#if you read this far down.. hello :D

[sad-leon]

(good future) Finding Home Pride edition <3

Trans Leo pride is something I see a lot, but personally, FH Leo wouldn't celebrate his gender. He grew up around Gali, who went through a lot of gender struggles, especially in his younger years, and with the brothers being so accepting, it's just another part of his life

But his lack of romantic attraction? That's something that stands out to him. He sees the brothers with their own attractions and crushes and such and realizes he stands out. He's different. But that's okay because he's still him and he's still valid

anyways~ it's pride month, which means i get to be even more annoying about aro pride ^-^

that final shot without text:

[crescentfool]

doing things outside of your usual is such a humbling experience...

[adore-laur]

hiii lovely i don’t know if you take requests but if you do please can we have an angsty piece for dadrry, like i know we had the christmas fight but like maybe h says something super mean to yn during an argument or he’s been super busy with work and he ends up being neglectful and stuff, and like i wanna see the groveling!!! it’s just a request if you don’t do angst i get it, but i would really love to see it !! no pressure tho xx

NEED YOU NOW

this is a flashback from the dadrry universe! enjoy, and please reblog / comment 🌝

——

It was 7:55 p.m., nearly three hours past the time Harry had promised to be home. His plate of food sat cold on the countertop. It had been his to make, but when you heard that he was staying late at the restaurant, you threw a quick meal together that was subpar by everyone's standards.

Truthfully, you were livid. Harry's paid paternity leave expired a week ago, and he was already breaking promises. I will always be home for dinner, he had vowed when you began to dread the day he put his chef coat back on and left you to parent alone. Remarkably, he had upheld it thus far. You just didn't think he'd let it collapse so soon.

You stewed over it in bed while trying—and failing—to put your four-month-old daughter down to sleep. It was the first time you had to do it by yourself, and to say it was shaping up to be a colossal catastrophe was an understatement. You didn't possess Harry's deep, soothing voice that was practically a lullaby of its own, nor did you possess his natural, rhythmic hip sway while rocking her to sleep. So, yes, there was a tiny kernel of resentment building pressure inside of you because of your shortcomings as a parent, and it would explode any second now. Because missing dinner was one thing, but missing the baby's bedtime? Outrageous.

Fussy cries rattled around the room as her body squirmed in the bedside bassinet. The probability of you joining in on her meltdown was soaring higher as the sky darkened. Nothing you were doing was successful in calming her conniption—not nursing, ocean air, white noise, or even her trusty pacifier could settle those high-pitched wails that simultaneously broke your heart and frazzled your nervous system beyond its regular state. You were determined to remedy the situation as a perfectly capable individual, but in your heart of hearts, you knew that sometimes you weren't the needed parent. Tonight, Harry was the desired nurturer. And he wasn't here.

With clammy palms, you surrendered your pride and unlocked your phone to call Harry. The last text he had sent was at 4:37. It read: Won't be home until late tonight. Don't know what time. I'm sorry. Out of frustration, you had left him with no response.

The ringing tone droned, and you held no hope that he'd answer. Realistically, there was no open opportunity to take a phone call in a fast-paced restaurant kitchen. The cogs needed to be moving at all times—otherwise, the wheel would splinter. You had accepted it years ago.

When you first started dating Harry, it was strenuous finding time for each other. On a lucky day, you'd talk to him during his lunch break. Weekends had bestowed the moments that made the relationship flourish. It should have gotten more manageable after all these years, but as a new mother, it wasn't something you could handle like a champ anymore.

Therein lay the problem: You had become too comfortable with having Harry home for twelve weeks. Calibrating to the changes that parenthood presented was much easier with a dedicated husband ready to face them with you. It had been a luxury to be a team from sunrise to sunset and every nocturnal hour that you both had spent devoid of energy. Your steadfast lover.

"Hello?"

You jolted, surprised to hear Harry's voice. It caused relief and rage to clash within you—not a pleasurable combination. "How much longer are you working?"

His sigh was smothered by scattered voices speaking in the background and kitchenware clanging noisily. "I don't know. We're finishing the dinner rush, and there's still loads of cleaning to do. Trust me, I've been trying to make an exit for the past two hours, but the orders keep coming."

"I need you here, Harry," you said shakily. "I can't do this by myself."

"Do what by yourself? What's goin' on?"

Rage won the internal battle and staked its claim over your sensibility. "Seriously? I have a baby that won't stop crying, a husband that has been missing in action for the past three hours, and I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"You never texted me back," Harry said, sounding like his focus was split half on the conversation and half on whatever task he was doing. "Have you tried walking her around outside? Maybe some fresh air will help."

You stood and started pacing around the room. "I tried that. I need your help. She wants nothing to do with me."

"Honey, I... I can't right now. I have to be here."

"Please," you begged, panic crawling up your throat. Could he even hear the baby crying on your end? How could he possibly understand your crisis through a muddled phone call? "I'm telling you I need you now."

"And I'm telling you I have a kitchen to run," he replied firmly. His tone softened when he added, "If I could leave right now, I would. It's just not viable when it's been this busy."

You stayed silent, chewing on his weak explanation. All your pent-up exasperation was simmering and had nowhere to go, so you infused your next words with it. "You're being neglectful."

"What?" Harry said. You could picture him with that cute little divot between his eyebrows, except the reasoning behind it wasn't so cute this time. "Wait, hold on, hold on. Say that again? Shit, I can't focus." A loud clattering of metal punctuated his rambling.

There was no fight left in you. Numbly, you walked over to the bay window and watched the ocean tide swell under the full moon. "Never mind. Go finish what's clearly more important."

"Listen, it's hard to hear you in here. Can I call you back in... um, I don't know, fifteen minutes?" He didn't seem angry and didn't sense the urgency you were conveying. He just seemed distracted, and it felt like a bruising kick while you were already down.

"Bye, Harry." You hung up, not regretting your stubbornness. His communication during the day had been meager. He should have known to keep you in the loop after three hours of waiting for him to come home. You had hung on by a thread and wondered if this would become the norm. You thought he was done with his old tendencies of being a yes-man.

What mattered to you the most was that Harry knew when to put family first, and tonight, you and your daughter were put on the back burner.

With two tears slipping down your cheeks, you succumbed to the feeling of utter helplessness.

——

Harry unlocked the front door, trying to recall the last time he had come home at nine-thirty at night. Surely months ago, when you were heavily pregnant and couldn't sleep. He had taken you for slow drives around the neighborhood and played with your hair in hopes of lulling you into a deep slumber. Worked like a charm.

God, he knew you were pissed at him. He was in the doghouse for good reason. Usually, you'd greet him at the door, happy to see him. Now, the quiet bounced off the walls uncannily.

He had been barely able to concentrate on anything while in the thick of dinner service. Too many stressors flew around the kitchen like bullets. It had been the absolute worst moment to respond to your panicked phone call. Why had he said yes to staying late? The agreement was to work from seven to five, Tuesday through Friday. He failed you today, and it killed him.

Ever since the baby was born, Harry had turned into a homebody. He loved seeing every room hold signs of his baby girl. Milk bottles in the refrigerator; tiny onesies in the washer; storybooks on the nursery's rocking chair; the tummy time mat on the living room carpet; the foldable bathtub in the kitchen sink (he planned to research if adults could use baby shampoo since the smell was irresistible). He'd gotten so attached to the routine that it came as no surprise—his first week back at work had been hell. He'd messed up several times, struggling to get back in the groove. His hands moved slower, his mind on overload as he caught up to the twelve weeks he missed. Everything there felt foreign. It sparked a realization that nothing came as close to feeling natural as being a dad did.

Harry shook his head to clear the tornado whirling around his brain and turned the kitchen light on. He immediately spotted his plate of dinner waiting for him, a depressing reminder of his broken vow.

An awful feeling sank like a stone in his stomach. This was all wrong. It was supposed to go like this: Harry, ravenous and in dire need of affection, would arrive home at five, the sun still shining. He'd kiss you in the foyer as you passed over his daughter. She'd coo happily, the weight of her in his arms a precious comfort. He'd carry her and entertain her with silly voices and other theatrical dad antics before getting started on cooking dinner. Then the night would slowly progress, and as everyone's eyes grew heavy with sleep, he'd wait until you were done nursing before burping a full-bellied baby and setting her in the bassinet.

And who was to blame for blowing that beautiful sequence to smithereens? This guy.

When Harry reached the hallway, he shivered. Was the window open? There was a chilly draft floating around, and when he peeked his head past the bedroom doorway, his assumptions were proven correct. There you were on the cushioned windowsill seat, the glittering moonlight illuminating your sleeping frame as you held his baby girl against your chest. She was asleep as well, with her limbs tucked all cozily in your motherly embrace. Harry just stood and watched for a minute, the day's stress cascading off his shoulders. Home. This was what remained the most paramount part of his life. He needed to apologize before you formed a grudge.

He didn't want to wake you or the baby, especially considering the overwhelming night you had helmed, so he hopped in the shower to contemplate the best way to handle... whatever had occurred over the phone. Harry knew that the postpartum phase was treating you roughly—your anxiety was a tight string ready to snap at any moment. He hadn't fully grasped the reality of you doing the bedtime routine alone. How hard it probably had been with a baby experiencing major sleep regression. He'd thought you using the word neglectful was harsh, but it was fair.

With a cleansed body and mind, Harry exited the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist. The breeze blowing in from the open window was too brisk for his liking, so he walked over and reached past you to close it. It squeaked, and he winced when you stirred awake. He stalled his movements as you came into consciousness, slowly and with weariness.

How motherhood looked on you was a thing of beauty. Even in the most ordinary moments, you were radiant, emanating warmth and solace. You were this family's guiding light.

Eventually, you swung your legs over the edge of the windowsill seat and stared at him blankly. Guilt struck Harry speechless, and all he could do was sink to his knees and press his face into your shin, like Stephan Sinding's Adoration. "Please forgive me, baby," he murmured, kissing the almond-scented skin there. "I'm so sorry. There's no excuse."

When you remained silent, Harry lifted his face and looked at you. The sight of your expression crumpling and tears welling in your eyes shattered his heart. He got up to sit beside you, pulling you and your daughter into a remorseful hug. "I've made you cry. I'm awful, aren't I?"

You sniffled. "No, you're not. I just don't understand."

"Can I try to explain?" he asked.

You nodded and let your head fall limply on his shoulder. Harry was grateful you weren't shunning him. After pressing a soft kiss to your temple, he said, "You needed me tonight, and I fell short as your husband and as her father." He stroked his baby girl's back, his palm nearly covering the entirety of it. "It was an unexpectedly chaotic day at work, and I... I don't know, it's like I forgot how to hold the reins. All my skill retention just vanished. It was bizarre, and I'm sure it has to do with being sleep-deprived, but it shouldn't have pushed me to stay late. I should've put family first, and I'm sorry you felt neglected. That wounds me to hear that." He grabbed your hand and held it against his heart, leaning down to kiss your knuckles tenderly. "So, from now on, I will be home for dinner. I will be here for bedtime. I will be here when you need me, for whatever reason. Because when you hurt, I hurt. And I don't ever want to make you feel like that again. Don't want you to doubt starting a family with me."

You were crying against his neck, and Harry couldn't tell if it was a good or bad sign. Every word he had said was honest. Poured straight from his soul. It was a vow to be better and to learn from his mistakes. The adjustment from a blissful four months experiencing fatherhood at home to transitioning right into a forty-hour workweek had been messy, and it still would be in the weeks to come, so he hoped you understood that he was trying. It would all balance out soon enough. It just took time.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," Harry whispered to you. His daughter was making whiny noises now, so he carefully took her from your arms and cuddled her close. It felt like his vital purpose.

Meanwhile, you inhaled a few deep breaths to collect yourself. Your hand gripped the towel around his waist, and you gasped before saying, "This whole time, I thought you were naked."

He laughed, thankful for the brief levity. "I think you're still dreaming, sleepyhead." A small smile lifted your lips, and he had no choice but to kiss them. He'd been gone for far too long today.

"I forgive you," you said quietly. "I trust that you won't let this become a habit. I think there were heightened emotions from both of us, for valid reasons, and I found it hard to communicate exactly what I needed."

"You needed me," Harry replied, feeling guilt creep its way back into his mind.

"I know, but I can't always expect you to drop everything when you're needed elsewhere. That's not fair."

He nodded. "Still, you're my partner. It's my responsibility to make you feel adored, and since I blundered that today, how about if I take all the night shift duties this weekend?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, relief softening your facial features. "That would make me feel very adored."

"Yeah?" He kissed your forehead. "And since tomorrow's Saturday, I think I'll treat you to breakfast in bed."

You hummed, pleased as punch. "Tell me more."

"We'll sit on the porch swing and drink coffee," he continued, the domestic visualization sending a rush of heat through him. "Watch the sunrise and listen to the mourning doves."

"No, I meant tell me more about treating me to things in bed."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Harry said through an amused laugh. "Are we talking about innocent bed activities, or...?"

You were in a reverie, no doubt thinking of not-so-innocent activities. "Remember our wedding night when we tried using that—" A sudden and sharp wail sliced through your sentence, and in Harry's mind, he caught a brief flash of the memory: you, perched seductively on the living room sofa in the newly purchased beach house, more breathtaking than the ocean view in the distance. Harry, unable to believe he had found you and got to treasure your love for life. And yeah... he couldn't possibly forget that ridiculous toy he'd been gifted with at his bachelor party. Moving on.

"Let's all get some sleep so we can act alive tomorrow," Harry said. When he stood to start rocking the baby, the loosened towel dropped to the floor, leaving him stark naked in the moonlight. You giggled, and the sound was like a shot of bliss straight into his veins. He laughed too, drowsiness finally hitting him. It'd be a long night ahead, and although he would likely rack up a measly four hours of sleep, knowing he'd wake up beside you and have only dad-related obligations for the next three days made it sound peachy.

For the first time that day, a sense of calmness washed over him. Home, sweet home.

——

[sacklerscumrag]

Metalhead Next Door

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Notes: hello :) i got the sudden urge to write for eddie munson today for some reason lol

i'm apologizing in advance for how bad it probably is. please keep in mind that i havent written anything in a long time, let alone for eddie

but if you do read it for whatever reason, thank you i love you im giving you a big kiss rn <3

Warnings: neighbors to lovers, jealous!reader, pining, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 1.4K

A loud rumble from a run-down truck rang outside your trailer window, jolting you from sleep. The book you abandoned some hours ago slid off your chest as you sat on the bed to peek outside. Snow continued to fall and hardened on the window sill from earlier that morning, each flake a silent whisper against the palm of your hand as you held it out in the icy air. Metal music blared through the familiar window across from yours, drawing your attention toward the warm glow coming from inside. An overpowering scent of weed lingered between the two trailers—something you'd found comfort in within the last couple of months of living next door to the Munsons. Of course, you'd heard the rumors where Eddie was concerned, and you'd have to be blind not to see how people treated him around here. Everyone ignored him, wrote him off as a freak while telling the tale of the long-haired devil-worshiping drug dealer to anyone who would listen. But after almost a year of living next to Eddie, you realized that couldn't be further from the truth.

The first night, Eddie crept up on your front porch when you weren't looking, making himself comfortable on the wooden staircase, offering whatever joint he was nursing—all leather jacket and wild hair with a grin that could warm you to your core if you let yourself admire him for a little too long. Since then, you'd meet Eddie outside once everyone had gone to bed and let his wild D&D stories carry you through the night. The world around you seemed to soften around Eddie, swallowed up by the relentless comfort of his presence. Even when he was gone, one last tiny blaze of warmth and light continuously flickered in your chest for him.

The night air was crisp, making you cling to your blanket that much tighter as you curled up in bed. You nearly jumped when you heard a thump against your bedroom window, a snowball crumbling as another landed against the window pane.

"You're not gonna make me wait out here until I freeze, are you?" Eddie's voice trickled in from outside, making you smile before quickly opening the window and letting him climb in. "It's fucking freezing out there. Hey, sweetheart." Your heart warmed at the nickname as he brushed past you, flopped down on your mattress, and picked up your abandoned book. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it far too many times today; the snow still crunched as he crossed one boot over another as scattered icicles clung to his jacket's leather and denim patches.

"Well, it's no D&D book, but-." Eddie teased before you cut him off by snatching the book, placing it on your bedside table, and settling beside him. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting to you so quickly.

"So what's new with you, Munson?" You said as you sank next to him, sneaking glances whenever he wasn't looking.

"Same shit, different day. I learned a new Metallica song last week, gonna play it at our gig."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll play it for you sometime." You smiled at that. "Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dustin." Eddie dramatically sat up on your bed and sighed.

"Dustin? Was it important?"

"Yeah, sort of; he's been trying to set me up with this girl. Or was it Steve setting me up? All I know is I went out with her last week, and now I gotta be at Family Video tomorrow at 6 to pick out a movie for whatever the fuck a double date movie night is." Your heart sank. Eddie was being set up; he was dating someone. And it wasn't you. Figures. He would never see you as more than a friend; all you ever did was hang out and talk about D&D; he could do that with any of his other friends. This shouldn't surprise you, but that didn't make it sting any less than it did.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie noticed your silence amidst his rambling. You were seemingly lost in your thoughts as you toyed with your fingers. Something had shifted; your warm presence from just a minute ago felt frigid and distant.

"Yeah." You wiped the tears welling in your eyes and stood from the bed, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. "Just tired, I'm just gonna go to bed." The mere thought of Eddie snuggling up on a couch with some girl made your chest feel like it would cave in any second. You quickly turned toward your window to open it, unable to face him without fear of bursting into tears.

"Sweetheart, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"You didn't just please…I want to go to bed." Your tone was firmer than Eddie had ever heard from you. He should go, head out through the window, and call it a night. But he couldn't. "Please." Your voice slightly cracked, and with it, a piece of Eddie's heart at the realization. When you managed to turn around, his chest was inches from your face, tenderness filling those big, brown, beautiful eyes darting back at you. His ring-clad hand cupped your cheek, skimming over your skin delicately like you would break under his touch.

Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Your arms around his neck; he tasted like cigarettes and mint from the gum he anxiously chewed before you came in. It was intoxicating. Chills spread across your skin when his hands slid across your waist, pressing you closer to him. It didn't take long for Eddie's need for you to become apparent with feverish hands pushing you back until the desk bumped against your ass; Eddie tapped your thigh to signal you to sit on the hard surface, standing in between your legs and trailing his lips down to your neck and chest. Your hands tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly.

"Eddie." You paused, studying his face for a moment; face flushed, hair tussled, and lips swollen and pink from your own; he was perfect. "I'm sorry. I should've told you how I felt, I-. Eddie's lips interrupted you with a searing but brief kiss as he spoke against your lips.

"Don't you dare apologize. I've been waiting so fucking long for this." A smile spread across your face, and relief flooded your chest. You tugged on his vest to draw him back to your lips as his hands began to knead your thighs, core clenching at the feeling. Whimpers escaped you from just his lips on your skin. His mouth worked its way along your neck, lifting your shirt and continuing to work his way down until he was kneeling before you.

"Can I?" You nodded as Eddie's ring-clad fingers hooked onto your shorts, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor along with your underwear. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and kissed the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "God, you have no idea how bad I've needed to taste you." Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue begin expertly working along your folds, then back toward your clit. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, then another. The chill of his rings pressing on your most sensitive spots as he plunged them in and out of you had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tighter around Eddie. Your chest heaved; every whimper and moan that escaped was like music to his ears. Eddie consumed you like a man starved; it was like the more pleasure he drew from you, the more he wanted. He couldn't get enough. He teased your clit between his lips and began to suck hard. Eddie's movements were relentless. Your eyes screwed shut, and your core tightened until it snapped. Eddie's hand dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you in place as you squirmed against him until you were practically pushing him away. He could see the blissed look on your face as he stood and wrapped your legs around his waist, carrying you over to bed. Once you were settled, Eddie stepped toward the still-open window.

"Don't go," you whispered; a pang of fear hit you. Eddie smirked to himself before shutting the window securely, throwing his jacket on your nightstand, and crawling in beside you.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

[kokomyass]

Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham

synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!

Notes: you are immortal in Neuvillette's part, you are a bad bitch in Wriothesley's part, you are part of the Academia for Alhaitham's part and hella shy

a/n: it was NOT a narrow win, this one won by far...so I hope you enjoy!!

also I might do a part 2 depending on how many people like it....and if you want any characters added just drop me a message 💜⭐️💜⭐️

Neuvillette

The Traveller and Paimon had decided to make an unexpected visit to the Palais Mermonia to see Neuvillette and Furina since they happened to be in Fontaine.

"Hey Sendene!! We are here to see Neuvillette and Furina!!" Paimon shouted out floating happily.

"Hello Traveller, Paimon. You see Neuvillette is currently away but you can make your way over to his office, he shouldn't mind." the Melusine said happily

"Thanks Sendene! See you!!" The Traveller and Paimon opened the doors to Neuvillette's office only to be met with an unfamiliar face.

You were sat down reading a book, with one leg crossed over the other deep in the book that you don't notice the two individuals walk in the room.

"Ummm...Hello there!! Whoever could you be?" your head shoots up to look at the Traveller and Paimon a look of suprise and happiness on your face at the same time.

"Ah! The infamous Traveller and Paimon!! Neuvi has said so much about you! It's so nice to finally meet you." you shoot up and hold the Traveller's hand, shortly moving to patting Paimon.

"You sure are energetic....but you never answered my question!" Paimon shouted putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh dear...that's my bad hehe...I am Y/N, its lovely to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Y/N!! So what are you doing in Neuvillette's office? You must be awfully close to give him that nickname" Paimon asks as the Traveller looks a bit confused as to how you had gotten so close to Neuvillette and how they didn't know who you were.

"Well I am Neuvillette's-" just as you were about to explain your presence, Neuvillette and Furina walked through the office doors making you smile warmly.

"Neuvillette!! Furina!! You run up to them giggling.

Furina walked through first, making her the first victim to your hug.

"Ah! Y/N!! It's nice to see you too" Furina smiled softly as she hugged you back.

"She's close to Furina too?! Just who is she?!!!" Paimon shouted feeling in the dark as the Traveller already had their suspicions...

"Oh how did you not know? She is Neuvillette's..." Just as Furina wanted to reply to Paimon's exclamation you squealing turned all their head in your direction.

"Neuvi~ I missed you..."

"Hello, my dearest. I too missed you an immense amount." Neuvillette said warmly making Paimon and the Traveller shocked at the love in his eyes and Furina unfazed by it.

You went on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around Neuvillette's neck hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away and handing him a cake box.

"I took a break from work to bring you a cake but now I'm gonna go...have a nice day at work and I'll see you at home!"

"I cannot wait to see you at home my dear, stay safe."

Neuvillette cups your face and places a kiss on both cheeks as you give him the cake, hug him tightly and pack your things.

"It was lovely to meet you guys!! Maybe we can meet up sometime!! See you Furina!!" you smile and wave to Paimon and The Traveller and Furina as they stare at you dumbfounded as you walk out the doors and Furina smiles and waves back.

"It is good to see you two, how have you been faring?" Neuvillette smiled turning to the Traveller and Paimon.

"UH...ERM....ARE WE GONNA IGNORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM??!! WHO IS Y/N TO YOU?!" Paimon screamed as Neuvillette held a neutral face.

"Oh Y/N is my wife. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put her in danger."

"That makes so much sense...its quite cute actually!! I can't believe THE Chief Justice has a wife!! For how long?" Paimon seemed to be extremely amused as the Traveller sighed at how dense Paimon was.

"400 years"

"SAY WHAT??!?!?"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Wriothesley

"Erm...can you hear that Traveller?" Paimon sounded uneasy as the Traveller gave her a look of uncertainty at whatever was currently going on in the Duke of Meropide's office.

There was currently shouting going on that was so loud that a few people gather around his office to see if they could get anyone the drama. (that the only entertainment they get down there)

"WELL IF YOU DIDN'T PUT MY CAKE IN THE BIN THEN I WOULDN'T BE HERE TO BE HONEST, WRIOTHESLEY!!"

"UGH Y/N I TOLD YOU, I CAN GET YOU A BETTER ONE!! PLUS YOU ARE SO LOUD THAT I BET EVERYONE IS OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!!"

"OH REALLY MR DUKE?? I LIKE THAT ONE CAUSE YOU MADE IT!"

"Y/N YOU AND I BOTH KNOW IT TASTED LIKE DIRT! AND STOP SHOUTING!!!"

Outside the office people were mumbling different things.

"Damn her sentence is gonna be for life if it wasn't before...."

"She's a soldier...."

Sigewinne showed up next to the Traveller and Paimon with an fed up look on her face.

"They are at it again...." She sighed and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Sigewinne!! Just what is going on in there?" Paimon asked as the Traveller flinched at another shout.

"You better go see for yourself..." Sigewinne pushed the Traveller and Paimon in the office and they climbed up the stairs to see a random woman and Wriothesley stop arguing to look at them.

Your demeanor changed completely as you turn your body to face them fully and smile.

"Oh hello! You must be the Traveller, and her cute little friend Paimon!" you smile softly as Paimon giggles and the Traveller greets you.

"Don't make Paimon blush!! However, the main issue is why you guys are shouting so much!!" Paimon places her hands on her hips like an angry mother.

Just as you started to calm you started getting heated.

"Traveller, I wouldn't usually be so desperate...but I could really use your help..."

"Hush it, Wrio." Paimon and the Traveller look at each other in shock.

Not only were you rude to THE Duke of Meropide but he also listened to you.

"Well, funny you guys asked....my HUSBAND here made me a lovely, beautiful delightful cake...last night which I enjoyed immensely!"

"Y/N-" Just as Wriothesley wanted to start you gave him a glare that shut him up.

"I REALLY enjoyed the cake, but my husband insisted it tasted like ass....so this morning after he had gone to work and I wanted to eat this cake I wake up to see it in the bin. So I am simply asking my husband to explain himself."

You fold your arms directing your attention back to Wriothesley.

"Wait....wait...wait...YOUR HUSBAND????!?!? WRIOTHESLEY THIS IS NEWS TO ME...." Paimon shouted as both the Traveller and Paimon both put their hands on their hips.

Wriothesley sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Guys....this is Y/N my wife of 3 years."

"Not for much longer is you keep this up."

"Y/N!! I'm sorry okay, I will make another one for you tonight." You immediately perked up and smiled warmly as you gave him a tight hug he returned, before you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"There we go, it wasnt hard was it! Anyway, I gotta go back to work...see you guys around and see you tonight, Wrio." you waved as you walked downstairs and left.

It was silent for a few minutes as the Paimon and the Traveller stared at Wriothesley in disbelief.

"I didn't want to tell you in these circumstances but-" Wriothesley started

"YOU BAKE??!!" The Traveller and Paimon spoke up in sync.

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Alhaitham

It was a lovely day and The traveller and Paimon were walking through Port Ormos, just as a little relaxation walk.

"Hey Traveller, isn't that Alhaitham? Let's go say hi!" The Traveller nods and they both go and say hi to Alhaitham despite him talking to you.

You turn your head and notice the Traveller and Paimon approach your boyfriend so you tapped him while he was talking so he would turn around.

"Ah, Traveller and Paimon. How are you? What brings you here?" Alhaitham turns around as you shyly stand behind him hoping they don't notice you.

"We are great! Just came here for a walk. What about you."

"I am discussing things with my partner...." Alhaitham glanced back to you suggesting you make an appearance as you only cower behind him, gripping his arm tight.

"Uhhh....I'm assuming that's them behind you in the Akademiya uniform." Paimon says crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Alhaitham nods before turning around and grabbing your shoulders, steering you infront of him. "Introduce yourself Y/N..."

"H-Hi....I am Y/N...." you don't say much before wrapping your arms around Alhaitham tightly and shoving your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you smiling faintly (not going unnoticed by The Traveller)

"Sorry, she is usually really shy..." Alhaitham deadpanned.

"How on earth can she be your partner?" Paimon asked kind of shocked that he was tolerant enough to work together with you.

"She is actually a very valuable asset. I don't appreciate your language." Alhaitham said it neutrally despite the cold look in his eyes.

Before anyone can say anything tou mumbled out from Alhaitham's chest.

"I wanna go home...." you squeezed him tighter as he did the same.

"Well, we are going home now, she seems a bit overwhelmed so we will catch you another time." Alhaitham says moving away making Paimon and The Traveller feel a bit weirded out at how close they were for partners.

"Hey wait!! I'm sorry I said that....I didn't mean it...are you scared of us?" you looked away from Alhaitham's chest smiling slightly at them but not letting go.

"I'm scared cause you guys are so cool, Alhaitham told me all about you!" you spoke softly before turning away and earning a head pat from Alhaitham.

"Well done for speaking Y/N, dear." Alhaitham said as you looked up at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"EWWW! JUST WHAT TYPE OF PARTNERS ARE YOU?!?!" Paimon shouted as you and Alhaitham shared another small kiss before walking away.

"Romantic partners and work partners."

"WHATTTT!!"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

a/n: I'm probs gonna do a pt. 2 just because j wanna write scara too and wanna make sure I haven't written too much...anyways I hope you enjoyed 💜✨️💜✨️💜

[clandestineloki]

Cold Flower (NSFW)

A/N: My public apology for going dormant on Tumblr for nearly 5 months.

tw: jotun!loki dom!loki, sub!cottagegirl!reader, loki’s cock is big but his size kink is bigger, corruption kink, praise kink, manhandling but very cutely if i may say!!, unrealistically fast paced because loki is horny ) >:D

read it on ao3!!

================================================

The grass tickles your ankles as you step through the bushes, careful not to step on any pretty flowers in your path.

Sunset is nearing, and you've only gotten so much as a few ferns. But you don't mind. The forest will bloom when it wants to, and even if you haven't collected any flowers for your work you're having a wonderful time looking around at all the birds and the deer and the butterflies and nature; just getting away from the busy life in the village is enough of a treat.

Stepping through a clear patch, you look around for any deer traps. What deer traps? The ones that have hidden nets that burst out from the ground like flytraps and scoop up any poor being that just happened to be there, leaving them trapped up in the air by a rope tied to a tree.

Now that you think of it, a clear patch in the middle of the forest means one thing: a deer trap has been set off already.

Right above where you stand.

Realizing the danger of being anywhere near a threatened or harmed deer, you’re ready to bolt out of the woods when you look up, and see a net that’s filled with leaves, branches, and stray grass reeds.

And dangling out of the net is a leg— a leg that looks less like a deer’s… and more of a person’s.

You gasp in horror. Someone’s caught in it!

Running around the tree, you find the rope suspending the trap buried in the ground. You rummage for your shears and hastily cut it, grabbing the rope to pull it down with your weight and let the trap sink to the ground slowly.

When it does, you run over, cutting away as much of the net as you can, digging through the leaves until you reach someone covered in an enormous fur cape.

You gingerly pull it back, and stare in awe.

It’s a man, with dark hair and sharp features, no doubt very handsome despite the scratches and cuts he’s sustained. The linen top he’s wearing is littered with twigs.

Softly, you brush away the twigs when you touch his wrist and freeze.

And quite literally, because his skin is as cold as ice.

Almost as if he were a corpse.

“Sir! Sir! Please wake up!”

When Prince Loki’s eyes open and adjust to the glare of the sun— and the silhouette blocking it out— his breath hitches.

Is this Valhalla? Am I… dead?

Surely, he must be. For above him kneels the most beautiful girl, almost shimmering in the golden light, it’s definite that you’re an angel.

“Hello? Sir? Can you hear me?”

An even lovelier voice for a radiant woman. He nods, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness!” You lean forward, brushing away twigs from his face and cloak. “I thought you had died! I hate those deer traps, they’re dangerous and they're so hard to see! It almost killed you! Are you alright?”

“Yes- Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

It’s as if he spoke without thinking, eager to hear more from your pretty lips. You catch your breath, kneeling back down, and he sits up to get a better look at the captivating face of his savior.

“How long have you been up there?”

Loki brushes his hand against his cheek. “I'm not quite sure- ah-”

He hisses when his fingers graze a wound on his temple, and he retracts his hand to find a few specks of scarlet.

“Probably not long, I'm still bleeding,” he shows you his hand, and you gasp.

“Oh, no,” you take a closer look at his face. “My house isn't far from here, I can help you clean up and get some rest. You must be exhausted. Are you alright with some porridge and biscuits? They're all I have the ingredients for and the farmers’ market is a bit far so I'm sorry if...”

Loki honestly can’t concentrate on what you're saying. He nods along, but he's rather focused on you.

As he tags along behind you as you retrace your steps to your home, Loki whispers a thanks to whatever Gods led him to be graced by your beauty in this moment, regardless of the circumstance. He had just been hunting for sport, unaware of the trap that had pulled him up into the tree so suddenly and rendered him unconscious.

Now, he's found something— no, someone— better; a much more rewarding, delicious little prey.

“I just realized I haven't introduced myself."

Loki looks up just as you say your name, timidly holding out your hand. He takes it after a moment.

“Loki,” he replies, once he finds it in himself to speak.

“Like the prince?"

He recoils a bit in surprise. “Yes- Yes, like the prince. Uh-"

“How are you feeling?" you ask, dabbing the cloth lightly against his wrist.

“They don't hurt if I don't move."

“Okay. Let me know if it does.”

Loki nods, watching you silently tend to his wounds, before he hisses softly.

You flinch, pulling away. “Oh, I'm sorry-"

“You really don't know who I am?” Loki asks.

A second passes as you look down at him, brows furrowing as you sit down next to him on your bed.

“I can't recall. Sorry, have you ordered flowers from me before?"

“You run a flower shop?”

“Yes, that's why I was in the woods. I was looking for fresh flowers and came across you up in that trap.” You tilt your head. “What were you doing in the forest, anyway?"

“I was... hunting for deer, and the last thing I remember is hearing something above me snap.”

“Hunting… Is that what you do for a living?”

“Well, no. My brother and I do it for sport."

“Oh."

Loki stares at you blankly. “My brother, Prince Thor."

You nod.

Loki chuckles. Your pretty little head hasn't registered it.

He leans in close, brushing his lips against your ear, and whispers very slowly:

“I'm Prince Loki."

And the reaction he gets is the cutest. Your lips part as your eyes widen, to which he grins.

But he doesn't expect you to fling yourself off the side of the bed and onto the ground, bowing down to him.

“Your Highness!” you squeak. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know!! I-”

“Darling, please," he chuckles, shaking his head. “That isn't necessary-"

“I'm so sorry, I'll get some tea, do you want anything from the market? Please, allow me-”

Loki bends down, lifting you off the floor in a princess carry and sets you down on the bed.

“Please, don’t stress yourself. You saved my life.”

He takes your hand, kissing it softly as he smiles up at you.

“Thank you, pretty angel.”

Your eyes widen as you stutter out tiny breaths. Norns, aren’t you the most adorable?

“I don’t think you believe me.” He stands up, pretending to be offended by your silence.

“No!” you cry . “I mean- I do believe you! It’s just- I was surprised, I didn’t think-”

“Didn’t think what? A prince would just be out in the woods for no reason?” He laughs, leaning down to you. Before you can respond, he chuckles again. “That’s alright,” he steps back, “you just need a little… evidence.”

Loki closes his eyes, and lets himself shift into his true form: blue skin, dark green patterns across his biceps. He hears the tiniest gasp of amazement from you as the magic also heals his wounds and cuts (and hopes that he’ll hear more of those cute noises very soon).

When he’s done transforming, he opens his eyes and stares down at you.

Dear Norns.

He knew he was already taller than you in human form, but this was just delightful. You’re much tinier than him, staring up at his stature with those wide doe eyes of yours.

“You are-” you blink a few times in shock. “You are the Jotun prince.”

He smiles even wider. “That’s right.”

“And… I… just saved the Jotun prince.”

He starts laughing, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Clever girl.” He knows he’s downright cruel, teasing you just because you’re so cute. “And do you want anything in return for ‘saving the Jotun prince’?”

“Well, I don’t know-”

Loki walks closer to you, and stands between your legs as he drops his cloak to the floor and leans down, drawling his next words very slowly.

“You deserve something… special. Something downright… pleasurable as a reward for saving my life. Something that you’ll remember for the rest of yours.”

He chuckles darkly when your breath hitches in realization.

He wants to make love to you.

“What?”

He pushes you down on the bed, trapping you in with his large body as he takes your wrists in one of his hands.

“You’ll feel undeniable bliss. I’ll take you over and over and over again until I’m sure you’re truly satisfied, because you’re such a sweet little angel saving my life and cleaning me up and looking so fuckable.”

You mewl, no doubt keening from his dirty words. He cups your chin.

“All you have to do is say yes. You don’t even have to do anything~”

His thumb brushes over your quivering lips, and push into your mouth. Loki grins as you look up at him, nodding slowly.

“Use your words, angel,” he teases, pulling his thumb away from your mouth.

It takes you a few moments to catch your breath. “Okay…”

He wanted to make you beg. He wanted you to say please, please fuck me so he could flip you over like you weighed nothing and take you over and over again like you’d asked but the way you whimpered withered away the last of his patience.

He had to make you his.

Loki captured you into a passionate kiss, muffling every last sound your pretty lips made so that only he could hear. He pulled away only to push you down on the sheets again, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you twitch in his hold, unable to comprehend how dizzy you are from just a kiss.

The two of you pull away for air as his dark green irises watches your eyes glaze over with submission. He grins, unbuttoning his white button-up and tosses it elsewhere.

He grins as you stare at his chest. Your tiny hands reach for him, tracing over the markings and patterns.

Loki hisses, taking your hands in one of his. You whimper as he stares down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Did that hurt?”

“No, no.” His voice softens as he leans in, kissing your nose gently, his other hand pushing your dress up your thighs. He kisses your cheek, then presses his lips against your ear. You shiver at his ice-cold breath.

“It doesn’t, angel. It’s just that if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to resist flipping you over and pounding you into the sheets until you’re dripping with my cum and you can’t think.”

He pushes his knee against your crotch, making you squeak like a pathetic little mouse. Loki grins.

“I will be doing that, mind you,” he teases. “But I simply have to get a taste of your pretty juices first~”

Your skirt bunches up against your twitching hips as Loki stares down at your dripping cunt.

“Oh," Loki chuckles. “You're already wet for me, angel, isn't that adorable~?"

You mewl, bashfully covering your face as he grins at your embarrassment.

“Stop teasing..."

Loki shakes his head, pouting in mockery. “Only if you stop being so cute when you're flustered. But until then…”

He places his hands on your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he lowers his face to your mound.

“... I'll enjoy fucking you until you submit to me.”

Your eyes widen as he licks your folds very slowly, and you whine shakily.

“Prince Loki..."

Loki grins, kissing your pretty cunt wetly and pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. And your helpless whimper of pleasure as he devours your pretty pussy whole is the cutest and most captivating noise he's ever heard.

He draws it out of you again, and again, and again, drinking every bit of your slick, even if poor little you are just getting wetter and wetter.

You're panting now, and Loki is equally as short of breath, only ever breaking away from you to watch your pretty face scrunch up so cutely. Loki licks his lips, nibbling on your thighs and making you squeak and tremble in his icy grip.

“You're such an adorable little angel," Loki grumbles. "Makes me want to eat you up like a little mouse, hmm?”

He holds you down firmly as your moans tickle his ears. The way your little hole squeezes around nothing is just so cute, he just has to stuff you full after he makes you come far too many times than you can handle.

“Aww,” Loki chuckles as you whimper breathily, thighs thumping helplessly against the bed. “Little angel can’t take it anymore?”

He brushes a blue finger against your dripping folds, sinking into your hole for the millionth time making you squeak and sob in sensitivity.

“P-Please…” you mumble, glazed eyes pleading for a moment of rest.

He sighs, forgetting you’re just a pure little thing having her first time, and gently scoops you into his arms to press a few kisses to your cheek and whispering your name.

“Have I thanked you enough already~?” He teases, and you nod, nuzzling into his hold though you shiver lightly.

Loki’s heart skips a beat. He feels you cling to him tighter and he feels your little ass grinding against his cock.

“Well,” he muses, “I believe my kingdom will be overjoyed to find that an angel like yourself saved their prince, hmm?”

“Huh?” you ask, still pleasure-drunk as you settle into his lap, as if you perfectly fit in his hold.

“I said,” Loki chuckles his icy breath tickling your face, “My kingdom would be overjoyed to find a pretty thing like you saved the royal prince, wouldn't they?"

“Mhm..."

“And they'll throw a week-long celebration...” he continues, trailing kisses from your cheek to your shoulder. “All for you~”

“R-Really?” you gasp as he begins sucking on your skin, sure to leave marks after. “A whole week? That's too much-!”

Loki laughs against your shoulder, holding your hips down so he can feel your hips grind against his cock. “Nothing is too much for a perfect little angel like you~"

Loki licks the bite mark he's so carefully placed on your skin, then looks up at your glazed eyes and twitching pout.

“Would you like to come back with me to the palace?"

The look of confusion and bashfulness across your face makes his cock twitch against your bare folds.

“Me?! With you?!"

“Do you abhor the idea of that?”

He knows he's being mean and he knows you don't hate the idea, but Loki just can't resist seeing you so embarrassed and stuttering to apologize.

“No! I didn't mean that! I was just surprised-"

Loki shakes his head with a little chuckle, and brings you closer to his face to kiss the crease between your eyebrows.

“I know, I know. I was just teasing."

“Don't be mean like that!”

Loki laughs darkly when you cross your arms.

In a flash, he’s got you on your hands and knees before your pretty head can even figure out what’s going on.

“And if I do, what are you going to do about it?”

You shiver at the dark growl in his voice.

You're so far deep in this haze all you can see is blue.

“Your highness-!”

Loki presses your chest against the bed, leaving your pretty ass on display, purely his for the taking.

“You’re just a little mouse that can’t hurt anything, hmm? Just so innocent, and weak, and ready to be ravished.”

A cold, thick finger traces your wet folds, and you whimper, burying your face in the sheets as he tickles your hole until you’re shaking with need.

“Maybe I’ll take you back home with me… and make you my wife.”

Loki shoves his finger all the way in, knocking the wind out of you because you swear you can feel him in your tummy.

“Your- Your wife?” You ask, voice higher and breathier.

“Yes~” he mocks your airy voice. “My pretty wife, who won’t have to get her pretty hands dirty ever again, who I’ll take care of, and protect, and fuck every single night.”

Loki curls his finger, reaching that sensitive little part in your cunt that effectively leaves you a mumbling, drooling mess on him.

When he’s gotten you wet enough, he draws his finger back (to his cute little angel’s momentary dismay) and forces your thighs apart with his body, the head of his cock twitching against your folds.

Loki will forever remember the gasp you let out when you feel just how big he is.

“Do you want to be fully mine? Do you want me to fuck this little hole of yours with my cock until you’re screaming for me?”

You whine at his dirty words, slurring something that sounds like a yeah, and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“Really?” he chuckles, fingering your little hole one more time to slicken your folds. “Do you think I’ll fit~?”

And with the dirty wet noises that tickle his ears as he sinks all the way in he gets his reply.

“Oh?” Amused, he runs an icy finger up and down your bare back. “She can take it, after all. What a good girl~”

Loki barely gets the praise out before the prettiest whimpers fall out of your mouth like sweet honey, your poor cunt clenching down on him as your voice gets higher and breathier by the minute.

“Please-” you hiccup, turning to look at him with those pretty teary eyes.

His vermillion eyes stare you down cruelly as he grinds his hips down into your ass, making your head fall onto the sheets as you slur out a moan.

His cock feels so heavy inside you and by the way he laughs quietly you know he knows just how big he is compared to you.

And the way he pins you down harder lets you know he loves it.

“Oh, you just feel so good around my cock,” Loki groans, pulling back and thrusting into your leaking little pussy.

Poor you, already sensitive beyond imagination as this handsome blue prince ruins any other man for you with the way his cock stretches you out better than anyone ever will.

Not that anyone else will get the chance to. Loki’s decided it: he will take you home to the palace and make you his wife, and everyone will bow before their new princess.

Loki can't resist you any longer. He beats your poor cunt like the beast he is until you're whimpering and bucking against him helplessly.

“Feels... weird..." you shudder and gasp, tears leaking from your eyes as he sinks deeper into you, his huge cock hitting all the good spots inside you as your pleasure takes over your senses.

“Oh, is she close? Is this perfect little cunt going to come all over me?”

Loki's dirty words make you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Yeah," you sob.

Loki laughs at how blissed out his little saviour is and stops,pulling out slowly and groaning when he hears the sinful squelching as your juices drip onto the sheets. He turns you on your back, pinning your wrists to your sides, and captures your lips in his as he sinks into you once more.

“I missed these pretty lips," he smirks into the kiss, taking you for himself.

“Y-You just kissed me a few minutes ago..." You sigh dazedly, though you love the attention he's giving you.

“Still can't get enough of you. You're just so sweet~" Loki licks your lips, thrusting harder and making you squeak and link your fingers through his.

“Say my name."

“Loki...”

“Gods," he throws his head back, almost moaning at how submissive you sound. “Surrender to me, darling."

His hands snake down to the back of your thighs, lifting them and pressing them to your chest, quickening his pace.

Your eyes scrunch up as you nearly scream in pleasure, wriggling away as if you could escape from him.

“Surrender to me, angel~" he grins, kissing your neck and marking you up. “A pretty angel like you deserves to be pampered like this every day. Imagine that? You'll never have to lift a finger, I'll do all the work, I'll do all the fucking.”

Loki accentuates that last word with a hard thrust into your hole, making your eyes blur over with tears as you mewl helplessly in the Jotun prince’s tight grip.

“Awh, don't cry," he teases, kissing your nose when he gets a sinfully great idea.

He stops his movements, making sure he's buried all the way inside you before he flattens his tongue against your soaked cheek and licks your tears away.

You gasp, stunned for a moment before you keen and twitch helplessly, whining loudly as he does the same to your other cheek.

And your poor little cunt just clenches down again.

Loki growls, his primal instincts taking over because you're his ideal mate and you're nothing like he's ever seen. The sounds in the room get filthier and filthier as he loses control and rams into your poor hole.

“What do you say, angel?" Loki asks, letting go of your wrist before his hand makes its way down to your clit, rubbing the little bud and making you scream and tremble in his arms. “Be my- fuck- be my bride? Be my pretty little princess?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, chest heaving as your eyes flutter shut.

“Are you close?"

“Mhm..."

“Cute little mouse," he chuckles, pressing open mouth kisses to your neck as he rubs your clit. “Let go for me now, angel."

It’s a sight from heaven as you orgasm all over him, soaking his cock with your juices and helplessly thumping your thighs against the bed because Loki won't stop thrusting in and out of you.

Loki growls, pinning you to the bed. He stills, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm, thick cum filling you up. It makes you feel even more full than you already do and it makes you dizzy with even more pleasure.

It becomes too much for your melting brain to handle when he pushes deeper into you and you gasp, attempting to kick him away.

A firm, cold hand grabs your ankle and spreads you wider, and you whine shyly when he grins at you with a cruel glint in his eyes.

“Stay with me, darling," Loki teases, gripping your hips possessively and holding you still on his cock so he can finish filling you up.

It feels like hours before he breathes again, but it's only been seconds for him, already wanting another round with you.

But the prince resists, setting your sore legs down slowly and carefully sliding out of your cunt.

You sigh in exhaustion, but your breaths falters in embarrassment when you feel just how much he pumped into you, dripping out of your twitching folds and onto the bed.

A tiny drop even lands on your ass and Loki chuckles at your wide eyes, leaning down to kiss your lips and whisper a dirty promise that he'll fuck you down there too next time.

“Next time?” you ask, lips parting.

“Yes," he teases. " I've decided it, you're never leaving my side, my guardian angel~”

And he scoops you into his side, letting you rest before he has a few more rounds with your pretty hole— then he'll take you back home to the palace and convince you to stay. He'll show you the library. He'll let you lose yourself in the royal gardens all day if you wish! As long as you return to his chambers each night and let him please you the way you deserve to be.

But he's fallen for you already and the whole kingdom will burn in a blaze of sapphire dust if anything or anyone ever keeps him away from you.

[heartlesscorpse]

Hello!! I've been absolutely obsessed with homicipher lately, and I really love the fanfics and hcs you wrote for the characters so far!! You're a really great writer, your style and aesthetic is honestly so good!

I was curious if you had any headcanons for how Mr. Crawling, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Silvair would be with a cane-user reader that has severe leg pain? Like they typically use a cane to help them walk easier, but sometimes they can feel so much pain in their leg that it becomes too much to walk and they sometimes need to sit down or take a break?

Homicipher characters taking care of reader is one of my favorite types of things to read <3 I hope you have an amazing day!

Homicipher Boys w/ Cane!reader

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHh YES I love the concept gbejbfj and I could def see this as a huge cute thing w/ Mr. Hood especially. 10/10, Homicipher boys taking care of the reader are the best HCs hands down gbejfjwj and tysm it makes me happy to hear that others rlly enjoy my work!!!! :D

Mr. Crawling 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Crawling as the absolute fucking sweetheart he is would want to be the biggest help for you when getting around certain areas of the Ghost Apartments.

⭑.ᐟ — At the same time, Mr. Crawling is also disappointed in himself he can’t be much of a help, it’s difficult for him to stand on his own feet for any longer than a few minutes considering he’s used to crawling around.

⭑.ᐟ — Which also means he can’t carry you :((

⭑.ᐟ — The best he can do however is help avoid any places like the boardwalk room with all the water or anything with a ladder so you’re putting less stress on your muscles and your bad leg.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Crawling does his best to try in protect you from any hostile residents (eg. the time you got kidnapped by Mr. Stitch), he’s not trusting anybody that’s not Mr. Silvair, or any other residents you’re not familiar with.

⭑.ᐟ — Ofc break times are also a must have so whenever there’s a room that’s safe to take a breather, he’ll basically lead you by the hand to take a seat and give your bad leg a rest. Cuddles are also given for a bonus <3

Mr. Silvair 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Silvair being kind of like the scientist/doctor, he’s pretty much the best source in getting any help you need for your leg.

⭑.ᐟ — Considering meds or painkillers aren’t things that exist in this ghostly dimension, Mr. Silvair tries finding other alternatives in order to alleviate your severe pain in your leg. Maybe try to work and figure out some sort of 'cure' with what resources and tools he has.

⭑.ᐟ — So with getting a few checkups/experiments done on your body (aka the weird thing going on with your body slowly changing due to staying in the Ghost Apartments), Mr. Silvair also checks in once in a while to see how your leg pain is going and suggests in resting whenever needed. You’re basically more than welcome to use his spare beds when you need them most.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Silvair might’ve found something better from the room with all the trashed items like a crutch for example so you can lean your weight on it a little and it’s somewhat easier to walk around.

⭑.ᐟ — Eventually Mr. Silvair found someway to help out with your leg pains, ofc having injections doesn’t look like to be the safest in normal people standards but yk, you’ll take anything you can get to be free from the pain even if it’s for a small while.

⭑.ᐟ — You might not get around much at this point, but whenever you’re in Mr. Silvair’s place you stay around for a little while during your breaks and Mr. Chopped’s just there keeping you company. :)

Mr. Hood 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Hood sees this as no problem at all tbh (It’s practically a W in Mr. Hood’s books).

⭑.ᐟ — Also fuck your cane honestly, he’s not thinking that ofc, but there’s no reason in needing one if Mr. Hood’s going to carry you all the time??? You can always rely on him to bring you to places you want to go.

⭑.ᐟ — You feel bad and selfish for taking advantage of Mr. Hood this way, but he’s honestly not complaining at all if he gets to hold you close like this whenever he wants. He’s not sure what the fuzzy feeling is but he just likes having you in his arms.

⭑.ᐟ — Sometimes you’d insist you’re able to walk on your own with the cane and you don’t need to be carried, Mr. Hood doesn’t think so, and he’ll still carry you anyways even if you don’t want him to.

⭑.ᐟ — It’s just looks so difficult seeing you struggle to get around certain places in the Ghost Apartments, there’s like a handful of dangerous things and you can’t run at all with that bad leg of yours.

⭑.ᐟ — There’s no need to feel guilty, even if Mr. Hood’s not put together or understand what he’s feeling most of the time, he’ll do anything to help out, keep you safe and protected. :))

[jweekgoji]

Hello! So I read your sentinel/starscream x reader fic and was absolutely devastated to check the tag and see it was one of like…maybe 3 other TFO!starscream fics on here? So I wanna request NSFW of my boy TFO!Starscream. The lack of content is killing me 🤕 Thank you! (Specifically a high guard!reader x starscream if you do end up see this)

Starscream/High Guard!Reader [TFO]

tw: NSFW (minors don't read, don't interact), praise kink, commander/subordinate relationship. word count: ~740 a/n: I think this version of Starscream will be more popular if only the writers decided to keep that scene where Starscream helps the main trio to rescue D-16 and the others. :(

It was no secret that the well-known leader of the High Guard was quite popular among the citizens of Iacon. Compliments came from all over the place, from the citizens to the Primes themselves.

“You've been so great today, I don't know who else would lead a mission against Sentinel so well like you do.”

“Mhhm.”

“There is no one else, a better commander than you.”

“...Continue.”

“I think you're far smarter and stronger leader than this false Prime wannabe, Lord Starscream.”

Starscream's servo clamps his mouth shut as your words reach his audio receptors. You notice his optics dimming a little, a slight shiver running along his spine. Did the mention of the title capture his attention that much? Or perhaps it was your confession that he was better than that greedy liar leading Iacon now? Either way, it doesn't matter at this moment.

“You're unbelievable...” Starscream says through gritted teeth, holding back from letting out more shameless sounds. Someone might hear.

Fragging you on the throne while your comrades are unaware, seemed a tiny bit risky, don't you think? He knows that, of course. If Skywarp or Slipstream spot the two of you like that, they will never miss the chance to tease him about it for cycles.

You meet his thrusts with your hips, feeling his spike pushing even deeper inside you. A slight smirk sparkles on your face in response to an earned muffled groan from your commander.

Who would have thought so? Starscream, of all the mechs you've ever met, melts in your optics with praise. At first, you hardly even noticed it. A brief ‘you're so strong, Commander!’ or ‘wonderful job, sir’ every time made him immediately drop whatever he was doing, only to realize what you had just said.

Receiving a lot of compliments was never unusual, but for some reason, it was you who made his spark beat a little faster.

“Don't even think...about telling it to someone,” his clawed servo snakes around your waist, pushing you lower onto his lap, digits pressing tighter with each deep thrust.

You purr softly in response, enjoying the lovely view of your leader sitting directly beneath you. At a steady, lazy pace, you felt his spike buried deep inside your valve, every tiny movement causing you to hold onto him tighter.

So, so painfully slow, it almost makes the red-and-white jet hiss in annoyance. Any other good day he would have appreciated your desire for something so vanilla, but right now, all he can think about is flopping your back down on his throne, taking you right here and there how he wants it now. But that would be too good to ask for, wouldn't it?

“If you want to do it faster, just say ‘please’,” you coo, rocking your hips against his own. “It's not that hard.”

“No,” he huffs, shooting you a strict glance. Him? Begging? How funny.

“Come on, boss,” you lean a little closer, his bright red optics narrowing at the sight of yours.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

Now that's your turn to huff. Maybe if you try to use your big, charming optics on him, to make him finally give in and admit to what exactly he wants from you. You want it too. Why can't he just use his words instead of giving you these longing looks? Your commander is so unfair and childish sometimes. He can't even look you in the optics right now, perhaps, so you wouldn't give him that puppy optics of yours even he can't say no to.

“If you weren't so moody all the time, commander,” you trace your digits around the edge of the jet's wings, rubbing the small circles around the sensitive spot. “I'd let you frag me on this throne any day of the week. Just so our comrades will know that I belong to you.”

For a moment, you see him stop. A sudden sense of panic runs through your processor. Was it too forward? Now things will be awkward. You've been so caught up at the moment, you barely had the chance to think about what slipped from your mouth.

Not like anyone had the strength not to fall on their knees for Starscream, though...that is, until you feel his wings twitch at the touch. A soft, pleased hum coming from his chassis. His servo slowly wraps around your own, only to catch your wrists together, pulling them in front of your center.

“Prove it then.”

[elikajinnie]

You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader Part 3

Part 3 of 4

P: Ghostface!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, stalking, obsessive/ possessive behaviour, blood/injury, violence, graphic descriptions, attempted murder, murder, kidnapping, mature themes, PLOTWISTS, IDOL CAMEOS!! i kinda went crazy with this...

Wordcount: 25.5k

Synopsis: In a quiet town where the shadows of the past seem to linger, you finally feel a sense of safety after surviving the horrors of Ghostface years ago. However, that peace is shattered when mysterious disappearances begin. One by one, people vanish without a trace, their fates linked to the haunting legacy of Ghostface, which begins to resurface. The past is not buried; it’s clawing its way back to haunt you.

a/n: this was way more complicated to write.. it was supposed to be dropped yesterday for Heeseungs bday! but i saw terrifer 3 so a setback! :/

REMEMBER!; This is purely fictional and just for fun. I do not wish any harm upon any characters.

please read part 1 & 2 first . playlist

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Heeseung turned sharply after you slipped away, his heart racing as he faced Taehyung. The sight of his friend, bloodied and hurt, only fueled the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. Taehyung let out a twisted laugh, his voice taunting. “I was one step ahead of you…” With a soft urgency, Heeseung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Stay with me, angel…” His eyes, usually warm, now burned with a fierce determination. He stood up, the tension crackling around him, and strode toward Taehyung. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, Heeseung pulled him to his feet with a fierce grip. “Hey! Hey! Let go!” Taehyung shouted, struggling against Heeseung’s hold, but his resistance was futile. Without a word, Heeseung dragged Taehyung toward the edge of the forest, the shadows growing deeper around them. When they reached a secluded spot, Heeseung released Taehyung, sending him sprawling onto the forest floor. Heeseung produced a knife, its blade glinting in the faint light as he twirled it effortlessly in his hand. “You will pay for what you did to Y/N…” Heeseung’s voice was low and steady, each word laced with a chilling promise. Taehyung's bravado crumbled as fear crept into his eyes, realizing the gravity of the situation.

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A woman sat alone in an empty office building, idly filing her nails while chatting on the phone. The monotony of the task at hand contrasted with the lively conversation she was having. "Yes, I know, it's completely crazy how she did that!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As she glanced up, the ceiling light above her cubicle flickered ominously. Wrinkling her nose, she looked down at her nails, scrutinizing them before setting the nail file aside on her desk. "Yes, I know, Nayeon… I will," she continued, nodding along to the conversation.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed from somewhere in the darkened office. Her head whipped around, her body tensing as she froze in place. She was supposed to be alone, finishing up some last-minute documents. "Soo-ah?" Nayeon's voice crackled through the phone. "I'll call you back, Nayeon," Soo-ah said hastily, ending the call and standing up to peer over her cubicle wall.

The only illumination came from the flickering ceiling light above her and the glow of her computer screen. "Hello? Is somebody there?" she called out, her voice quivering slightly. Silence greeted her, making the emptiness of the office feel even more oppressive. She sat back down, trying to focus on her computer, but another loud thud broke her concentration.

Her nerves frayed, Soo-ah glanced at the clock on her computer screen. It read 2:15 a.m.—far too late for anyone else to be in the office. Rising again, she cautiously peeked around the corner of her cubicle, just in time to see a dark figure woosh past. Gasping, she jerked back in surprise and hurriedly ducked under her desk, clutching her phone tightly.

The silence was suffocating as she waited, heart pounding in her chest. Gathering her courage, she was about to peek out from under the desk when the light above her suddenly cracked. Sparks flew down, showering her in a brief, terrifying burst of light before plunging her into darkness. She gasped, the darkness closing in around her.

With a resolve borne of sheer fear, Soo-ah slowly crawled out from under her desk. She needed to get out of the office, away from whatever was lurking in the shadows. She moved cautiously, making her way in the opposite direction from where she had seen the shadow. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her eyes darted around, straining to see through the darkness.

Soo-ah crawled to the end of the aisle and rounded the corner, facing the large window that overlooked the city. The faint glow of the streetlights outside barely illuminated the dark office, offering her a sliver of visibility. She sat for a moment, catching her breath, before carefully standing up and peeking over the cubicles. Seeing nothing, she continued to crawl, her goal set on reaching the elevator or the stairs.

She halted when she reached what she thought was a wall. But it wasn't a wall. Looking up, her eyes widened in horror as she saw a person standing in front of her. The figure wore a white twisted mask, holding a hunting knife that gleamed menacingly in the dim light. "Fuck," Soo-ah whispered, panic lacing her voice.

The masked figure swung the knife at her, slashing her shoulder. Pain erupted from the wound, and she screamed, bolting upright and running. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Soo-ah repeated frantically, grabbing objects from desks and throwing them behind her, trying to slow down her pursuer. But the person continued their relentless chase, their footsteps echoing in the empty office.

She glanced back, only to crash into something solid. Turning quickly, she looked up and gasped. Another person, identical to the first, stood before her, their mask twisted into a wide, mocking smirk. Terror gripped her heart as she realized there were two of them. "There's two of you!?" she said fearfully, her voice barely more than a whimper.

The figure in front of her lunged, stabbing her in the stomach. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, the pain too intense for sound to escape. The knife was pulled out, and she collapsed onto the floor, her phone sliding from her grasp. The screen lit up, showing Nayeon trying to call her back, the name on the screen a cruel reminder of the normalcy she had just moments ago.

Soo-ah lay helplessly on the cold floor, her vision blurring as she looked up at the two killers who stood over her. They tilted their heads in unison, a chilling and unnatural movement. "Nighty-night," one of them said in a deep, mocking tone before he plunged the knife into her again.

Darkness consumed her vision as the pain faded, leaving only the cold embrace of death. The last thing she saw was the white masks, their twisted expressions permanently etched into her mind as her body grew cold.

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You sit in the corner of a bustling café, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, half-listening to the faint hum of chatter around you through your noise-cancelling headphones. People come and go, ordering their coffees, catching up with friends, but you remain focused, immersed in your work. It’s your usual routine—tune everything out, lose yourself in the flow, and get things done.

After what feels like hours, you decide to take a break, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms. Pulling up a news site, you scroll absentmindedly until a headline catches your eye: "Another Disappearance Shakes Local Office: Young Woman Missing After Late-Night Shift." Your stomach sinks.

Clicking on the article, you quickly skim through the details. A young woman had vanished after 12 a.m. on Tuesday, leaving nothing but a pool of blood and her phone behind. Your frown deepens as you take in the chilling words.

“God dammit…” you mutter under your breath, rubbing your eyes in frustration. This was the third disappearance this month.

You sit there for a moment, staring blankly at the screen. The café noise fades into the background as your thoughts linger on the article. Three disappearances in one month. It didn’t make sense—people vanishing without a trace, no clear leads, only fear spreading like wildfire.

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the woman’s last moments, about the blood, the phone left behind. But the more you think about it, the more your chest tightens, an anxious buzz settling in the back of your mind. There’s no use dwelling on it, you tell yourself. Nothing you can do from here.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and turn back to your laptop. The work needs to get done, and you’re already behind schedule. You place your fingers back on the keyboard, forcing yourself to focus, typing slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed as you sink back into the rhythm.

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When you get home, the soft meow of Ddongsik greets you as he weaves between your legs, rubbing his head affectionately against you. You smile down at him, bending to give him a gentle scratch behind his ears. "Hello, sweetie," you say, your voice soft as you stroke his fur.

After slipping off your shoes and shrugging out of your jacket, you walk into the living room and find Heeseung lounging on the couch, controller in hand, eyes fixed on the TV screen. He glances over his shoulder at you and grins. "Welcome home!"

You walk over to him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks," you murmur, before heading toward the bedroom. Heeseung chuckles softly, already turning back to his game as you make your way to take a much-needed shower.

After your shower, the warmth from the water leaves you feeling relaxed, and you slip into your most comfortable clothes—a loose t-shirt and soft sweatpants. Padding back into the living room, you find Heeseung still on the couch, focused on his game but looking peaceful. You settle beside him, tucking your legs under you, and lean your head against his shoulder.

He pauses the game and turns to you with a smile, sensing you have something on your mind. "Feeling better?" he asks, shifting slightly to make room for you to get comfortable.

"Yeah, much better," you say, giving him a soft smile before your expression turns more serious. "I was reading about something earlier at the café… there’s been another disappearance."

Heeseung frowns, his brow furrowing in concern as he processes your words. "Another one? Like the ones from before?"

You nod. "Yeah, same situation. A young woman. She was working late, disappeared past midnight. They found blood and her phone, but nothing else." Your voice lowers as the weight of it settles between you.

Heeseung goes quiet, his gaze shifting from the TV to the floor as he grows thoughtful. His thumb taps lightly on the controller in his hand, but his mind is clearly elsewhere now.

"That’s… weird," he mutters after a pause.

In the days that follow, you begin to notice a shift in Heeseung. He becomes more thoughtful, his usual easygoing nature clouded with something heavier. It starts small—he’d sit quietly for longer stretches, his mind elsewhere even when the two of you were just relaxing or watching TV. But soon, it becomes more noticeable. He starts glancing over his shoulder more often, even when you’re just walking around the neighborhood or running errands together.

At first, it’s subtle. A quick look behind when you’re out at night, his hand lingering protectively on your back as you pass through crowded areas. But as the days pass, you can see it’s more than just casual caution. Heeseung becomes more guarded, eyes scanning the environment a little too often, his expression thoughtful, sometimes even distant.

You think about asking him what’s on his mind, but you know him too well. Heeseung’s the kind of person who will speak up when he’s ready. So, you don’t push. You give him space, knowing that whatever is weighing on him, he’ll reveal it in his own time.

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You were deep into your work at the office, the soft clattering of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation filling the room. As you focused on your screen, a hand appeared beside you holding a water bottle. You blinked and looked up to see Taehyun standing there, his usual calm expression on his face.

“Here,” he said simply, handing it to you.

You smiled, appreciating the small gesture. “Thanks, Taehyun.”

He nodded and walked off without another word, heading back to his desk. You watched him go for a moment before turning your attention to the water bottle. Just as you were about to open it, you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey!”

You looked up to see Yuna grinning at you, her energy as bright as ever. She leaned against your desk, eyes sparkling with her usual curiosity. “Got a minute? I’ve got something juicy to tell you.”

You laughed, setting the water bottle aside for the moment. “Of course, what’s up?”

Yuna leaned in closer, clearly excited to share whatever gossip she’d picked up.

After Yuna finished her lively story, you shared a few laughs and exchanged some light banter before she finally headed back to her own desk. Smiling to yourself, you turned back to your work, diving into the tasks at hand. Hours passed, the afternoon dragging on in its usual way, and soon enough, the office was beginning to wind down.

As you started wrapping up for the day, collecting your things and shutting down your computer, something tugged at the back of your mind. You glanced at your desk, suddenly remembering the water bottle Taehyun had given you earlier. You hadn’t even taken a sip.

But when you looked for it, your brow furrowed—it wasn’t there. The bottle wasn’t in the spot where you had placed it after Yuna interrupted you. You scanned your desk, thinking you might’ve absentmindedly moved it somewhere, but it was nowhere to be found.

That strange feeling from earlier crept back in. You distinctly remembered putting it down, so where had it gone? You stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the empty space where the bottle had been, the office now much quieter as people filtered out for the day.

It left an uneasy feeling, but you shook it off, telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe someone had mistaken it for theirs or a coworker tidied it up. Still, as you packed your bag and headed for the door, that unsettling thought remained, lingering in the back of your mind.

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The woman walked quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement in a steady rhythm as she made her way home from work. The street was dimly lit, the occasional flicker of a streetlamp casting long shadows, but she paid no mind to the darkness. Her eyes were focused on her phone, fingers scrolling through messages, completely absorbed.

A van passed by on the road, its engine humming as it drove past. She barely looked up, not thinking twice about it. But that was her mistake.

She didn’t notice when the van made a sudden U-turn at the end of the road. Didn’t hear how its engine softened as it slowed down behind her, the tires barely making a sound. She didn’t see the figure that slipped out of the side door, silent and quick, their footsteps blending with her own until it was too late.

The first thing she felt was the sharp pain as a knife plunged into her back, cutting off her breath in an instant. She opened her mouth to scream, but a rough hand clamped over it, muffling the sound before it could escape. Her eyes widened in terror, her phone slipping from her grasp, clattering to the ground as the van rolled up beside her.

The door slid open, and with terrifying efficiency, she was dragged off the sidewalk and thrown into the back of the van. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing down the empty street as the van sped off, its taillights disappearing into the night.

All that remained on the dark, quiet road was her phone, lying facedown on the pavement, and a small pool of blood where she had been moments before.

The woman lay crumpled in the back of the van, her body trembling in shock as waves of pain radiated from the wound in her back. She tried to speak, to cry out, but only weak, choked sounds escaped her lips. Her throat felt tight, her voice too strained to form words. Her vision blurred, the dim interior of the van spinning as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Through the haze, she saw them—the figures in the front of the van. The one driving wore a hood, their face hidden from view, but it was the other figure that made her heart pound in terror. Sitting across from her, they wore a white mask, plain and expressionless, but somehow more terrifying because of it. Their eyes were dark, void of any warmth as they stared down at her, watching her with a cold, eerie stillness.

The van rocked as it sped through the streets, the sound of the tires muffled by her own shallow breaths. She tried to move, to fight, but her limbs felt heavy, numb from the blood loss. Panic surged through her, but it was no match for the growing darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision.

“Time to sleep,” the masked figure said, their voice deep and twisted, each word dragging through the air like a final sentence.

The woman’s eyelids fluttered, her body losing the last of its strength. The world grew darker, her senses slipping away as the van continued its grim journey through the night. The last thing she saw before her consciousness faded was the haunting, lifeless gaze of the mask staring down at her, waiting for her to succumb to the darkness.

And then everything went black.

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As the days passed, the city grew more anxious. More women started to disappear, but the cases were erratic, with no clear pattern. There was no obvious timeline, no predictable interval between abductions. Some weeks passed in silence, giving a false sense of calm, only for another disappearance to send shockwaves through the city again.

The only common thread was chilling—each victim was a woman, alone. Whether she was walking home late at night or working past midnight in a dimly lit office building, it didn’t matter. The circumstances were always eerily similar: they vanished without a trace, leaving behind only blood and personal belongings, often a phone, as the sole evidence of their existence.

The media frenzy heightened with each report, but the police were left grasping at straws. Investigators found no obvious connection between the women—different ages, professions, and even locations around the city. Some worked in busy corporate buildings; others in small, isolated offices. Some vanished in residential areas; others in deserted industrial streets.

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The parking lot was nearly deserted, the fluorescent lights casting a dim, eerie glow over the rows of empty cars. It was close to 10 p.m., and the only sound in the air was the faint hum of the lights above and the soft click of the woman’s heels as she made her way across the pavement. Her phone was pressed to her ear as she chatted absently, trying to ignore the creeping sense of unease that always came with walking alone this late.

She spotted her car in the distance and quickened her pace, feeling a little more at ease as she got closer. But then she heard it—something subtle, like the shuffle of footsteps, just far enough away to make her pause.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice sharp in the quiet, her eyes scanning the shadows. Nothing moved. Silence.

She stood still for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest as she strained to listen, but no one answered. Probably just her imagination, she thought. With a nervous chuckle, she shook her head and returned to her conversation.

“Sorry, I thought I heard something,” she muttered into the phone, distracted, as she approached her car.

Then, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Confused, she pulled it away from her ear to glance at the screen. The caller ID was unknown. With a sigh, she hung up her previous call and answered the new one.

"Hello?" she said cautiously, her voice tentative as she looked around, the dark parking lot suddenly feeling more menacing.

A low, twisted voice crackled through the line, sending a chill down her spine. "What are you doing all alone out there?" the voice asked.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat as her breath caught in her throat. "Who is this?" she demanded, but the voice didn’t answer her question.

"Do you like horror movies?" the voice continued, ignoring her. There was a sickening playfulness to the tone, like whoever was on the other end was enjoying this far too much.

"No," she replied sharply, her fingers tightening around her phone as she reached her car. "I don’t."

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "What do you know about Ghostface?"

She blinked, confusion and fear mixing in her mind. "Ghostface? He’s… some infamous killer from a small town," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. "He disappeared without a trace. No one knows what happened to him."

"Mmm, that’s right," the voice crooned, as if amused by her answer. There was a brief pause before the voice grew darker, more sinister.

Her pulse quickened, and every instinct screamed at her to end the call. Without a word, she hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket. The conversation left her skin crawling, and she fumbled for her keys, desperate to get into the safety of her car.

As she searched, she caught a glimpse of something in her rearview mirror. Her blood ran cold. Behind her, standing just a few feet away, was a figure dressed in all black, a white Ghostface mask gleaming under the parking lot lights.

The figure held a knife.

A scream tore from her throat as she spun around, instinctively swinging her purse at the masked attacker. The bag collided with him, causing him to stumble back for a brief moment. But that was all she needed.

She turned and bolted, her heels clicking rapidly against the pavement as she ran, her heart racing in pure terror. Behind her, she could hear the sound of his footsteps pounding against the ground, growing louder as he gave chase.

The parking lot seemed to stretch out forever, each car she passed a blur as she sprinted for her life, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t dare look back. All she could focus on was finding a way out, away from the masked figure who seemed determined to end her night in blood.

The woman's heart pounded in her chest, her legs burning as she sprinted across the parking lot. But the heels she wore slowed her down, each step feeling more precarious as she stumbled forward, desperate to escape. Behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, closing the distance faster than she could manage.

Before she could make it far, a powerful hand grabbed her from behind, yanking her backward with brutal force. She screamed, but the sound barely had time to escape her lips before a sharp, searing pain tore through her chest. The knife plunged deep, and she cried out in agony, collapsing to the ground as she clutched the wound, blood spilling between her fingers.

The masked figure stood over her, head tilted in a chilling, almost curious manner as she gasped for breath, her vision blurring from the pain. For a moment, he simply watched her, as if savoring her suffering. Then, without a word, he raised the knife again and brought it down into her back. The second blow silenced her screams, her body going limp as her life faded away, leaving her lying motionless on the cold pavement.

Just then, another figure appeared from behind a row of parked cars. This one also wore a Ghostface mask, his dark clothes blending into the shadows. He approached casually, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him.

"You suck at talking to them," the first Ghostface said, glancing over his shoulder at the newcomer. There was irritation in his voice, as if critiquing a performance.

"Well, I'm not one for small talk, really," the second one replied, shrugging. He stopped beside the body, peering down at the lifeless woman. "Never been my thing."

The first Ghostface scoffed, wiping his knife clean on the woman's coat. "Maybe stick to the killing then."

"Yeah, yeah," the second one muttered. "Now help me with the body before someone shows up."

They both crouched down, working quickly and efficiently, lifting the woman’s lifeless form and dragging her to a nearby van parked in the shadows. With practiced ease, they hoisted her into the back, her bloodied body thudding onto the floor of the vehicle. The second Ghostface closed the door with a heavy slam, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of witnesses.

Before climbing into the van, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it onto the pavement, where it landed with a dull thud, lying abandoned just like the others.

The first Ghostface slipped into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as the second one jumped in beside him. The van rumbled to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness as it pulled away from the scene, disappearing into the night, leaving behind nothing but the woman’s phone and a fresh pool of blood.

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The atmosphere at work had shifted drastically over the past few weeks. Tension hung thick in the air, particularly among the women. The recent string of disappearances—women being abducted either on their way home or in their workplaces—had cast a dark cloud over everyone’s minds. Every news report felt like a weight added to the growing fear that no one was truly safe.

Today, the office buzzed with anxiety. Groups of women were clustered together, their voices low but agitated as they discussed the recent events. You, Yuna and Karina sat at your usual spot in the break area, watching as more and more people abandoned their desks to join the conversations. The women spoke in hushed tones, but their words carried across the room—snippets of fear and frustration, all centered around the same dark subject.

Your supervisor, Mr. Park, stood at the front of the office, trying to regain control of the room. He raised his hands, attempting to get everyone’s attention, but it was clear that the unease had reached a tipping point. No one was listening.

“Everyone, please, calm down,” Mr. Park urged, his voice strained but failing to cut through the chatter. “We’ve implemented more security measures—no one should be here late alone, and we’ve hired additional guards to patrol the area. We’re doing everything we can—”

One of the women, clearly fed up, interrupted him. “It’s not enough! These disappearances aren’t happening somewhere far away—they’re here, in this city, and it feels like we could be next!”

A ripple of agreement spread across the room. Another woman spoke up, her voice shaking. “What if it happens to one of us? None of these women thought they’d be the next victim either, but look where they are now.”

You exchanged a glance with Yuna, who had been sitting quietly beside you, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a pensive expression. She leaned in, her voice low as she whispered, “This is getting out of hand. It’s like every woman here is on edge, and I can’t really blame them.”

You nodded in agreement, your own unease matching the growing paranoia in the room. “No one feels safe anymore. The stories get worse every time we hear about them.”

Just then, another woman’s voice rang out from across the room. “What about walking to the parking lot? What if something happens there? They say one of the women was attacked near her car!”

Mr. Park sighed, visibly struggling to maintain control of the situation. “I assure you, we’re doing everything in our power to make sure that won’t happen here. Please, stick together, don’t leave alone at night—”

But his words fell flat. The fear was palpable, and it was clear that no amount of reassurance could quell it.

Karina leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it could happen to someone here? Like, someone we know?”

The thought sent a chill through you, but you kept your voice steady. “I don’t know. I really hope not, but it feels like no one is safe anymore.”

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the growing unrest around you. The women at the office were scared, and rightfully so. Every conversation seemed to circle back to the same grim topic—how quickly things could spiral out of control, and how anyone could be the next victim.

And as much as you wanted to stay calm, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach, wondering if you or someone close to you might be next.

As the chatter continued, the tension in the room only seemed to escalate. The atmosphere was thick with anxiety, and every woman appeared to be looking for a way to feel safe again. Just then, one voice cut through the rising din.

"Wait a minute, isn't she the one who had that encounter with Ghostface?" A woman named Lisa turned to you, her eyes wide with both concern and curiosity. "I mean, she literally survived attacks from both the original Ghostface and the second one. If anyone is a target, it’s her!"

The room went silent, and all eyes turned to you. A knot formed in your stomach as the realization of their scrutiny sank in. The stories of your past encounters had become a source of both intrigue and fear among your colleagues, but you never wanted to be in the spotlight for that reason.

“Yeah, I mean, you must know how to protect yourself, right?” another woman chimed in, her tone almost pleading. “What tips do you have for us? We could really use some advice.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, the pressure of their expectations weighing heavily on you. "I-I don’t think there’s much I can share,” you stammered, waving your hands in a dismissive gesture. “That was… different. You can’t really prepare for something like that.”

"But you survived," Lisa pressed, a hint of desperation in her voice. “You must have some kind of insight or strategy we could use. What should we do if we find ourselves in a similar situation?”

Their expressions were a mixture of fear and expectation, and it made you tense. "I know it’s scary right now," you continued, “but we have the police. That’s something, right? They’re there to help.”

"But what if they're not enough?" another woman interjected, anxiety spilling over in her voice. “What if something happens anyway? We need to be proactive!”

You could see the panic spreading, and your heart ached for them, but you didn’t know how to ease their fears. “Just remember to stay in groups and use the buddy system. If you see anything suspicious, report it immediately. We all have to look out for one another.”

The discussions turned to more practical solutions, but the sense of unease lingered in the air like a heavy fog. You couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the reassurances, the threat was all too real.

As the conversations resumed around you, you felt a shiver run down your spine, wondering just how long it would be before the next headline flashed across the news, echoing the fears that were now a part of your everyday life.

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As the days turned into weeks, an unexpected shift swept through the city. The disappearances that had gripped the community with fear suddenly stopped altogether. News outlets began to report fewer stories about the incidents, and slowly but surely, the police patrols that had been so prevalent in the area dwindled.

With the pressure lifting and the atmosphere around the office becoming lighter, a collective sigh of relief spread among the women in your workplace. Conversations that had once been laced with fear shifted to lighter topics—plans for summer vacations, new projects, and even office gossip.

You couldn’t deny the sense of relief that washed over you as well, but in the back of your mind, a small part of you remained cautious, wondering if this was truly over.

With the return of some normalcy, you decided to take a day off, feeling the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. Taehyun had been instrumental in helping you settle into the city, always supportive and there when you needed it. He had helped you find your job and offered guidance through those chaotic initial weeks. You had come to trust him, and the prospect of spending some quality time together felt like just what you needed.

The sun shone brightly as you met Taehyun at a local café. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as people enjoyed their day out. You settled at a table outside, soaking in the warmth and the sounds of the bustling city.

“Hey, it’s good to see you!” Taehyun smiled as he approached, his easygoing demeanor instantly putting you at ease. He wore a casual outfit that suited him well, and his presence was always a comfort.

“Thanks for meeting up with me,” you said, returning his smile as he took a seat across from you. “I felt like I needed a break from everything, you know?”

“I get that,” he replied, nodding in understanding. “It’s been a rough few weeks for everyone. I’m glad to see things calming down, even if it feels a bit too quiet.”

You agreed, grateful for the shift in the atmosphere but still wary. “Yeah, I hope it stays this way.”

As you chatted over coffee, sharing stories about your work and catching up on life, you felt a sense of normalcy returning. Taehyun made you laugh, effortlessly drawing you out of your worries and fears, reminding you of the good moments in life.

“Honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, leaning in slightly, “how are you doing with everything? I know the past few weeks have been tough on you.”

You hesitated, considering his question carefully. “I mean, I’m okay, I think. The disappearances… they shook me up, but now that they’ve stopped, it feels like we can finally breathe again. I just hope that it’s really over.”

Taehyun nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable to feel that way. But you’ve been really strong through all of it. I admire how you handled everything.”

His compliment warmed you, and you felt a little of the tension inside you ease. “Thanks, Taehyun. I couldn’t have gotten through it without support from people like you—and Heeseung.”

“Speaking of Heeseung,” Taehyun said, changing the topic, “how are things going with him?”

A smile spread across your face at the mention of Heeseung. “He’s wonderful. We’ve been trying to make time for each other amidst everything.”

“That’s good to hear,” Taehyun replied, a genuine smile on his face. “You deserve to have that support. You both do.”

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You were focused on your work when Taehyun appeared at your desk, looking flustered. "Hey, have you seen Sullyeon?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

You shook your head. "No, I haven’t."

"Aw man," he sighed, holding up a small stack of papers. "I have to go out for lunch, and she was supposed to print these for me…"

Without thinking, you spoke up. "I can do that if you want."

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a twinge of regret. You had been looking forward to your lunch with Heeseung, and now you risked being late. But seeing the defeated look on Taehyun's face had pushed you to offer help before you could fully process it.

His face brightened instantly. "You would be saving my ass," he said with a grateful grin, handing you the papers. "I owe you!" he called over his shoulder as he hurried off.

You sighed as you gathered the papers and made your way to the printer. You weren’t thrilled about cutting into your time, but it was too late to back out now.

You sighed again as the printer began spitting out the documents, the faint hum filling the otherwise quiet hallway. While you waited, your thoughts drifted to Heeseung and the lunch date you were already running late for. A part of you regretted offering to help Taehyun, but there was no turning back now.

A sudden, faint noise from behind made you pause. You turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the door to the emergency staircase at the far end of the hallway. The sound was so soft, it could have easily been dismissed—perhaps just the building settling or a draft—but something about it tugged at your attention.

You tilted your head, trying to listen more carefully. For a moment, everything was still. Shrugging it off, you turned back to the printer, watching as the papers slowly emerged. But then, there was another noise, slightly louder this time, like something shifting behind the door.

Your brow furrowed as you glanced back again. "Hello?" you called, your voice breaking the silence.

No response.

The hallway was unusually quiet. Most of your coworkers had already gone for lunch, and the floor felt almost abandoned. Hesitation bubbled up inside you, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you moved away from the printer and approached the door to the emergency staircase.

The handle felt cold as you pushed it open, revealing the dark, echoing space of the stairwell. "Hello?" you called again, your voice bouncing off the concrete walls and disappearing into the distance.

Still no answer.

You were about to close the door and dismiss it as your imagination playing tricks when something fell with a soft thud near your feet. The sudden sound made you jump, your heart skipping a beat. You stared down, eyes widening as you saw a single pink heel lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Your breath caught in your throat. It took you a second to recognize the shoe—it was Sullyeon’s favorite pair. She wore them nearly every day. Your mind raced as you looked up the stairwell, then back at the hallway behind you. Sparse with people, eerily quiet.

Unease began to creep in, but concern for Sullyeon overtook it. You took a tentative step forward, picking up the heel. It felt cold in your hand.

"Sullyeon?" you called, voice more urgent this time as you started climbing the stairs, your heart beating a little faster now. The door to the hallway clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the stairwell with the echo of your footsteps.

Each step upward seemed to amplify the unsettling stillness, and the further you climbed, the more your worry deepened. "Sullyeon?" you called again, but only the hollow sound of your own voice answered back.

Something was wrong. You could feel it tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding that lingered as you continued up the stairwell, clutching Sullyeon’s heel in your hand.

You reached the top of the stairs, pushing open the door to the floor still under construction. The dim lighting barely illuminated the area, where plastic barrier sheets hung loosely from the ceiling, separating piles of materials and scattered tools. Dust filled the air, and the eerie silence only deepened your unease. You pulled back one of the sheets, squinting to peer through the space.

"Sullyeon? Are you here?" Your voice echoed faintly as you moved between the barriers, stepping carefully around the debris.

No answer.

The unsettling quiet pressed in on you as you navigated through the room, your breath growing shallow with every step. Something was wrong. Deep down, you knew it.

"Sullyeon?" you called again, a little louder this time, your voice cracking slightly. You pulled back another sheet of plastic and froze in place.

Your heart dropped.

There, on the cold floor, lay Sullyeon, her body twisted in a pool of blood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. Her eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto yours. She gasped, trying to speak, but the words came out as painful whimpers.

"Sullyeon!" you screamed, rushing to her side. You knelt beside her, hands trembling as you applied pressure to the wound in her stomach. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and slick. "Stay with me! Stay with me, Sullyeon!" you cried, panic rising in your chest as you desperately tried to keep her conscious.

But Sullyeon’s hands feebly pushed against you, weakly trying to move your hands away. "What are you doing?!" you asked in disbelief, your eyes wide with confusion as you tried to help her. Then you noticed she was pointing, trembling, at something behind you. Her eyes filled with pure terror.

"He… he…" she choked out, barely able to speak.

You barely had time to turn before a sharp punch landed on your face, sending you reeling backward. Pain exploded in your jaw as you clutched your face, stumbling to regain your balance. Your vision blurred for a moment, but when it cleared, you found yourself staring into the mask—that mask.

Ghostface.

Your heart pounded, terror gripping you as you took in the sight of the iconic white mask. But this wasn’t Heeseung. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this wasn’t him. You’d watched him bury the mask and knife, leaving that life behind for good.

This was someone else. Someone who had taken up the mantle of Ghostface, using it to spread terror once again. And you were sure this was the person responsible for all the disappearances.

"You…" you spat, your voice trembling with fury and fear. The figure in the mask tilted their head, the sharp glint of a knife catching the dim light as they stepped over Sullyeon, moving toward you with slow, deliberate menace.

Before the masked figure could get any closer, Sullyeon, in a final act of bravery, kicked out weakly, tripping the attacker. They stumbled forward, crashing to the floor with a grunt.

"Run!" Sullyeon screamed, her voice filled with agony.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You scrambled to your feet, your heart racing as you bolted toward the exit, barely dodging the swipe of the knife aimed at your legs. The sound of Ghostface rising behind you sent a chill down your spine, but you kept running, your only focus on escaping the nightmare.

You threw yourself against the door at the top of the stairs, your entire body slamming into it with force. The door flew open, but just as you began to make your descent down the stairwell, a heavy weight crashed into you from behind. You screamed as you tumbled forward, the force of Ghostface’s body slamming into yours sending you both rolling down the stairs in a chaotic mess of limbs and pain.

Your body collided painfully with each step, the hard edges bruising your arms and legs as you tried to orient yourself. When you reached the bottom, dizzy and aching, you scrambled, trying to wiggle away. Ghostface, equally disoriented from the fall, lunged for you, his gloved hand reaching out. You screamed, kicking out with all the strength you had left, your foot connecting squarely with his face.

He let out a shout, clutching his mask as he reeled back, giving you just enough time to scramble to your feet. You ran, your heart pounding wildly as adrenaline took over.

You knew going to your desk and calling the police would take too much time. You needed to get out of the building, to get someone’s attention.

As you sprinted down the stairs, panic pulsed through your veins, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind you, Ghostface had gotten up from where you’d both tumbled down the steps. From the corner of your eye, you saw him glance over the edge, his gaze locking onto your retreating figure. His fist slammed into the metal railing in frustration, a loud clang echoing through the stairwell. The anger radiated off him as he leaned down, snatching up the knife he had dropped during the fall.

Without missing a beat, he started running after you, the sound of his boots pounding against the stairs growing louder with every step.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you flew down the remaining stairs, pushing yourself to run faster than you ever had in your life. Bursting through the door to the lobby, you ran toward the receptionist’s desk, your voice raw with terror. "Please, help! The killer—he’s after me! He’s in the building!"

The receptionist looked up, her face pale with fear as she took in your blood-streaked hands and panicked expression. She fumbled for the phone, her fingers shaking, but you knew every second counted.

You collapsed into a chair in the lobby, still shaking when the police arrived. Heeseung appeared beside you soon after, his eyes wide with horror when he saw you sitting there, bloodied and terrified. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his protective grip never faltering. You buried your face into his chest, your body trembling as you tried to steady your breath.

The police searched the building, but when they returned, the news wasn’t good.

"Look, miss," one of the officers began, his expression grim as he knelt beside you. "We searched everything, but the only thing we found was some blood and Miss Sullyeon’s phone." He held up a clear evidence bag, the bloodied phone lying inside. "The killer isn’t in the building anymore."

You sighed heavily, feeling a weight settle in your chest. Heeseung tensed beside you, his jaw clenched in frustration. "That clearly means the killer knows the area," he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the ground.

"Clearly," the officer agreed, sounding just as defeated. "Look, if it’s alright with you, we’d like you to come back to the station to fill out your statement. Is that okay?"

You nodded, exhausted. Heeseung helped you to your feet, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as the two of you followed the officers to their car.

Sitting in the back of the police car, Heeseung looked deeply unsettled. His hand found yours, squeezing gently as if to reassure you, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere. "I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt.

"It’s not your fault, Heeseung," you whispered, leaning into him. "Don’t beat yourself up over something you couldn’t have known would happen today."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I know… but this is all my fault." His voice cracked slightly, and his thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, his other hand softly tracing the bruise forming on your cheek.

You understood what he meant. It wasn’t about today. He was blaming himself for everything—the murders, the start of everything. Ghostface had started with him, and now it was continuing, spreading like a dark shadow over both of your lives.

You had fallen in love with a felon, a criminal, a murderer. He had buried the mask, but the legacy had been reborn, and now you were yet again in the midst of it.

The trilogy had begun.

You arrived at the police station, the air heavy with tension. Heeseung was more on edge than usual, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the room warily. You knew he wasn’t fond of police stations—it was no secret why. His past left a bitter taste every time you were around law enforcement, and you could feel the weight of his discomfort radiating beside you.

Inside, the officers seemed to pick up on his energy too. As you both sat down at a desk, you noticed how one officer, who was meant to take your statement, hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously toward Heeseung. His presence, usually calm and collected around you, now felt almost threatening to others, though unintentionally. You reached out and placed a hand on his, squeezing it softly, a silent reminder that you were in this together.

"Is it okay if Heeseung stays while I give my statement?" you asked, though it came out more like a gentle command.

The officer, clearly a little intimidated by Heeseung's stoic demeanor, nodded quickly, fumbling with his notepad. "Y-yeah, of course. No problem."

Heeseung settled back in the chair next to you, though you could feel the tension in his muscles. His fingers gently drummed on the armrest, his gaze flickering toward every movement around the station. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance—but you could tell he was simmering under the surface.

The officer glanced at Heeseung briefly, then quickly looked away. You could tell he was intimidated, not just by Heeseung's physical presence but by the silent weight he carried with him.

The officer cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling out a notepad. “Alright, ma’am, let’s go over everything. Please tell us what happened with the… attacker.” He hesitated at the word “Ghostface,” as if saying it out loud might somehow conjure the horror you’d just escaped from.

You nodded, leaning forward slightly, your hand still intertwined with Heeseung’s for support. “It all happened so fast,” you began, voice still shaky. “I was printing papers when I heard a noise coming from the emergency stairwell. I went to check it out, and I found Sullyeon. She was hurt—stabbed.”

The officer scribbled down your words but kept glancing nervously at Heeseung, who remained silent, his eyes sharp and observant. You continued, describing every detail you could remember about the attack, your voice faltering slightly as you relived the terror. “Then... he came after me. He was wearing a Ghostface mask, like the one from the murders back in my hometown. I... I don’t know who he was, but he attacked me, and I barely got away.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as you spoke, his hand tightening around yours as though trying to shield you from the memory. His tension was palpable, and the officer, clearly uneasy, fumbled a bit with his notes. “And, uh, the suspect... Did you notice anything specific about him? His height, build, any details?”

You tried to focus, but Heeseung's tension made it hard to stay calm. “He was under six feet tall, a bit shorter. He moved fast, and... he didn’t say anything, just chased me. I didn’t get a good look at anything other than the mask and the knife.”

The officer nodded, scribbling down the details while casting a wary glance at Heeseung. “Alright, we’ll take this information and do our best to track him down. We’ll also be investigating Sullyeon’s disappearance.”

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The drive home was heavy with silence. Heeseung’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he focused on the road. He hadn't said a word since leaving the station, and the tension between you grew with every passing minute. You knew this silence well—it wasn’t anger, but something deeper. Heeseung was in his head, wrestling with thoughts he never liked to voice.

When you finally reached home, the familiar creak of the front door seemed to echo in the quiet night. Heeseung held the door open for you, his eyes dark with something unreadable. As you stepped inside, he finally spoke, his voice soft yet strained. “You should go wash up.”

You nodded, sensing that he wasn’t quite ready to talk yet. After everything, you needed the hot water to clear your mind, to wash away the remnants of the day—the blood, the fear, the lingering image of Ghostface in your head. You could feel Heeseung’s eyes on you as you walked to the bathroom, his silent presence heavy with worry.

Once you had showered and changed into clean clothes, you found him sitting on the couch in the living room, staring out the window. The dim light cast long shadows across his face, making him look even more lost in thought. You approached cautiously, sitting down beside him, your presence breaking through his reverie.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everything that had happened, everything that lingered in your past, seemed to hang in the air. Finally, Heeseung broke the silence, his voice quiet but filled with something raw.

“I’ve always feared this would happen,” he began, his eyes still fixed on the window, as if looking anywhere but at you. “That someone… someone would pick up where I left off. I always knew it was possible.”

You stayed silent, listening, feeling the tension radiating off him.

“For years, I tried to put it behind me, tried to forget what I did as Ghostface. I thought burying it, moving away, starting over—it would all be enough. But these disappearances… I’ve been looking into them on my own, trying to piece it together. They’re not random. They’re murders. And now, they’ve come for you.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and fear. “I’ve been researching, trying to find patterns, but… it’s always the same. Young women, alone, just like you were today. And the one thing I’ve always feared… it’s happening. I’m losing you, and I don’t know what to do.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the tension in his grip. Heeseung’s eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Without you… I don’t know who I’d be.”

The intensity of his words hit you hard. You knew Heeseung struggled with his past, but hearing him voice it like this, raw and unfiltered, shook you. He had always been your rock, the one who seemed steady despite everything. But now, sitting here, you realized how deeply afraid he was—afraid of the person he used to be, and afraid of losing the one thing that gave him stability: you.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get through this together. We’ve faced worse, remember?”

Heeseung closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time you’re out there, every time you’re alone… It kills me. And today… I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault, Heeseung,” you reassured him. “You couldn’t have known. But I’m still here, and we’re going to figure this out.”

His grip tightened around your hand, and for the first time that night, he let out a deep sigh, leaning his head against yours. “I’m so scared, angel,” he whispered. “I’m scared of what’s coming. But I’m more scared of losing you.”

Heeseung's breath warmed your skin as he leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that fragile moment, suspended in the heaviness of your fears and unspoken worries.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised softly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mixture of fear and longing. It felt as if you were both trying to hold onto something precious, something that could slip away at any moment. But as you kissed him back, the weight of the world lifted, if only for a moment.

His hands cradled your face, fingers tangling in your hair, grounding you both. You melted into the kiss, your heart racing as the intensity of your connection deepened. It was more than just a kiss; it was a vow, a silent promise to protect each other against the shadows of your past.

As you pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching, you could see the storm of emotions swirling in Heeseung’s eyes—fear, love, and determination. “I need you to promise me something,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you replied, your heart aching for him, for the vulnerability he laid bare.

“If anything happens… if I can’t protect you…” he paused, his gaze intense. “You need to fight. You need to survive. I don’t care what it takes. Just keep running. Promise me that.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. “I promise, Heeseung. I’ll fight. I won’t let him take me.”

A flicker of relief passed through his eyes, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if sealing the promise between you. The fear still lingered, a shadow that clung to your hearts, but in that moment, you felt invincible together. Whatever Ghostface represented—whatever legacy of terror threatened to reclaim you—you would confront it head-on, side by side.

Heeseung pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from everything that lurked in the darkness outside. You could feel the tremors of anxiety still present in his body.

You began to rub his back gently, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his spine. With each stroke, you whispered sweet reassurances, reminding him that you were there and that everything would be okay.

Slowly, you felt his body begin to relax beneath your touch. His breath steadied, the tension in his shoulders easing as he melted against you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, and you could feel the weight of the world lift just a little. Heeseung sighed softly, and in that moment, you knew you had reached him.

Before you both realized it, the exhaustion and stress from the day began to take their toll. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins was fading, leaving a heavy fog of fatigue in its wake. Heeseung shifted slightly, pulling you onto his lap, and instinctively, you nestled closer, your head resting against his shoulder. He began placing soft, lingering kisses on your neck and shoulder, each touch igniting a sense of safety that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. With every kiss, you felt your eyelids grow heavier, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a tranquil state.

In Heeseung’s arms, you felt safe. The chaos of the day faded into the background as you succumbed to the comforting warmth that enveloped you. Your breaths became slower and steadier, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a deep sleep, completely surrendering to the solace of the moment.

“Always so sweet… so precious…” Heeseung murmured, knowing you were asleep. He could always tell by your body language—the way you relaxed against him, how your breathing changed when you finally surrendered to sleep. It reminded him of the time when you had first collapsed in his arms, utterly exhausted and vulnerable. Back then, he had revealed his dark secret, the truth that he was Ghostface, and yet you had still chosen him.

As you slept, Heeseung gently pulled back, carefully rearranging you so that you lay fully against his chest. He laid back on the couch, cradling you against him as he reveled in the moment. He played with your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands, each stroke a reminder—one that you were there, how he would always keep you close.

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Returning to work after a few days of leave felt like stepping into a spotlight you didn’t want to be under. After the attack, you had been on the frontlines of the news, plastered across every screen and newspaper. Now, as you walked into the office, everyone’s eyes followed you. People whispered and pointed, their murmurs barely concealed. It took you back to when you had first survived the original Ghostface years ago—the trauma, the constant attention, the feeling of being both a survivor and a spectacle. Back then, you’d learned that Heeseung had been Ghostface.

After waking up in the hospital, Taehyung had disappeared, and Heeseung never wanted to tell you what really happened after you fainted that night.

That dark chapter of your life had been followed by relentless media attention, to the point that you and Heeseung had spent years living in the secluded hut he had taken you to, just to escape. Slowly, the public interest in your story had faded into just another horrific event in the world’s ever-growing archive. When you returned to public life, there were still whispers, occasional stares from people who recognized your face. But it was manageable. You’d gotten used to it.

Now, though, it felt like history was repeating itself. Seeing your colleagues point, hearing the quiet exchanges behind your back, it all left you feeling a mix of guilt and hopelessness. Why was it always you? Why did the specter of Ghostface still loom over your life, even when you thought you had moved on?

You sat down at your desk and sighed deeply, putting your head down on the cool surface in an attempt to shut out the world. The weight of everything pressed down on you.

“Are you okay?” Taehyun’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts, and you groaned softly, not ready for conversation.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, lifting your head slightly to look at him. "I mean, I'll survive… I guess."

Taehyun’s expression was filled with guilt, his usual easygoing nature replaced by something far more solemn. “Yeah, listen… I just wanted to say sorry. If I had just printed those papers myself, this might not have happened.”

The remorse in his voice was palpable, but you shook your head. “It’s totally okay, Taehyun. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault,” you insisted, trying to sound more certain than you felt.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, though you could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. "Still… I should’ve been more aware."

You smiled weakly, trying to reassure him despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Really, it’s not on you.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of Taehyun's guilt as he sat beside you, shoulders hunched, concern etched on his face. "Really, Taehyun, it’s not your fault," you said gently, though a part of you wished none of this had ever happened. "There’s no way you could have known."

He hesitated, still uneasy. "But I feel like if I hadn’t asked you to print those papers, none of this—"

You interrupted, your voice softer now. "Taehyun, you can’t blame yourself. These things… they just happen. It’s like fate or something, always pulling me back into this nightmare." You gave him a small, tired smile, but your words carried a weight you couldn’t fully mask.

Taehyun shifted closer, concern deepening. "But are you really okay? I mean… facing all this again…"

You exhaled shakily, your defenses slipping as the exhaustion of everything you’d been through clawed at you. "Honestly? I’m tired, Taehyun. I thought it was over. Years ago, I saw that white mask for the last time, or at least I thought I did. And now… it’s happening all over again. I don’t know why it always has to be me."

His eyes softened with understanding, and without saying anything, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. It wasn’t a solution, but in that moment, his presence was enough. "You’re strong," he said quietly, "I know you are. But you don’t have to go through this alone."

The simple statement was enough to make your chest tighten with gratitude. "Thank you, Taehyun," you murmured, leaning into the support he offered, even if just for a brief moment.

After Taehyun left, you sat at your desk, trying to focus, but it was hard to shake the weight of everything that had happened. The office chatter around you felt distant until you heard familiar voices.

Yuna and Karina walked up, both wearing expressions of concern. Yuna was the first to speak. "Hey, how are you holding up?"

You forced a small smile, not wanting to get into it again. "I just… I want to forget for a while, you know?"

They exchanged a look, understanding immediately. Karina offered softly, "We get it. How about you come over to my place after work? Just relax, maybe watch something that isn’t terrifying for once."

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds good. I could use the distraction."

As they turned to leave, your boss suddenly appeared. Yuna and Karina gave you a quick nod before walking off. Your boss approached carefully, his expression serious yet empathetic.

"I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about everything that happened," he started, his voice low. "If you need more time off, don’t hesitate. You’ve been through a lot."

You appreciated the gesture, but you shook your head. "Thanks, but I can’t. I need the money."

He nodded in understanding, clearly wishing he could offer more, but respecting your decision. "If you change your mind, just let me know."

When work finally ended, you gathered your things, feeling the exhaustion of the day pressing down on you. As you walked through the office, your steps slowed when you passed by Sullyeon’s desk. It had been turned into a small memorial, with flowers, messages, and her picture resting in the center.

You stood there, staring at her smiling face. She didn’t deserve this. The guilt twisted inside of you, your mind filled with haunting questions. If only you could have helped her sooner… would she still be here now?

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, your heart heavy as you tore your eyes away and headed out of the building.

After leaving the building, you were greeted by Yuna and Karina waiting by the car. They both smiled warmly, offering you a much-needed sense of normalcy. The drive to Karina’s house was filled with light chatter, helping to ease some of the tension that had been building inside you all day.

On the way, you shot a quick text to Heeseung, letting him know where you were. He replied almost immediately: Keep your location on.

You sighed softly but responded with a simple Okay, understanding his concern. Heeseung never liked being left in the dark, especially now.

Once you arrived at Karina’s house, the three of you settled in the cozy living room. You sat on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, with a bottle of wine passed between you. Karina picked a random rom-com movie for background noise, but none of you were really paying attention. The conversation flowed easily, and for a little while, it almost felt like nothing was wrong. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort of being with friends—it was soothing, like a balm for your frayed nerves.

But even in that moment, you couldn’t fully shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It was subtle, a creeping sensation of being watched. Your eyes kept darting to the windows, trying to catch something—anything—out of the ordinary. But, every time you looked, there was nothing. Just darkness, an empty street with no signs of life. Yet, your instincts, honed by past encounters, told you something was off. You stood up, interrupting the conversation briefly as you moved toward the windows.

Karina raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking something," you replied quietly, already pulling the curtains closed. You walked from window to window, making sure they were all locked, double-checking the doors, and even ensuring the alarm system was armed. Karina and Yuna didn’t say anything. They knew about your heightened sense of security after everything you had been through. They understood.

Once you finished, you paused in the kitchen, your hand resting on the counter as you peered out one last time through the small window facing the street. Everything looked normal—no movement, no shadows, no sign of anyone lurking. Yet, that feeling in your gut wouldn’t leave.

You sighed, drawing the curtains shut before heading back to the living room. When you returned, Karina gave you a reassuring smile as you sat back down between them.

"Everything okay?" Yuna asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to push away the lingering tension. "Everything’s fine."

After a long evening, you and Yuna finally decided to head home. You both hugged Karina goodbye, thanking her for the night. As Karina stepped back into her doorway, she paused for a moment and looked down the street.

“I didn’t know the Jeons got a van,” she muttered under her breath before closing the door.

You caught the comment, something about it tugging at you. As you looked in the direction she had been staring, you noticed a black van parked a block away. It seemed like an ordinary van, nothing special about it at first glance. But a familiar knot of unease formed in your stomach. Your instincts, sharpened by past experiences, flared up.

"Come on!" Yuna’s voice broke through your thoughts, her hand gently tugging your arm. You let out a breath, nodding as you followed her onto the street. You pushed the feeling away for now. Maybe it was nothing.

Yuna spotted her boyfriend’s car waiting nearby and waved goodbye before getting in. You did the same, waving to her as she left, and then turned to find Heeseung’s car parked a little farther down. The sight of him waiting for you eased the tension in your chest.

You slipped into the passenger seat, the familiar warmth of Heeseung making you feel safe again. "Had fun, angel?" he asked with a soft smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours as he started the engine.

“Yeah,” you replied, managing a smile back at him. The black van lingered in your mind for a moment longer, but as Heeseung drove and the two of you started talking, the knot of tension slowly began to fade. You felt lighter, recounting your evening to him, and his steady presence grounded you as he responded with gentle laughter and comments.

When you both arrived home, Heeseung parked the car, and the two of you made your way to the front door, hand in hand. The cool night air seemed to melt away as soon as you stepped inside the warmth of your home. The moment the door closed behind you, Heeseung wasted no time. He turned toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed soft kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, and down your neck.

“Hee—stop,” you giggled, trying to gently push him away, though your heart fluttered at the affectionate attention.

He didn’t budge, his lips trailing down your shoulder now as he held you tightly in his arms. “You left me alone all afternoon… without my beautiful, perfect girlfriend,” he murmured against your skin.

You laughed, squirming a little in his grip but not really wanting to get away. “I wasn’t even gone that long.”

Heeseung grinned, pulling back just enough to look at you with that playful glint in his eyes. “Too long for me,” he teased, his hands tracing along your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I’ve been going crazy without you.”

You tried to protest, but your laughter only seemed to egg him on as he leaned in closer, pressing more kisses wherever he could reach. His warm breath tickled your skin, making you giggle uncontrollably, and it wasn’t long before you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, still laughing, but the smile on your face said otherwise.

“And you love it,” he smirked, finally pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You and Heeseung were walking hand in hand through the mall, enjoying the leisurely day together. Earlier that morning, when you mentioned wanting to go shopping, Heeseung had simply grabbed his keys, ready to take you wherever you wanted. Now, here he was, holding your shopping bags with his usual laid-back demeanor, though his eyes occasionally darted around the mall, taking in the surroundings.

“I need to go to the bathroom, wait here, I’ll be right back,” you told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading toward the restroom. Heeseung smiled softly at your kiss, his gaze following you for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench to wait.

After finishing in the restroom, you walked out, checking your phone as you stepped into the main hall—only to accidentally bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” you quickly apologized, looking up at the man you’d crashed into.

The guy was surprisingly handsome, and what caught you off guard was just how similar he looked to Heeseung. “It’s quite alright. I should have been paying attention,” he said with an easy smile.

You smiled back politely. “No harm done.”

As you turned to walk away, a look of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait, aren’t you that chick who survived those killers a few years back? Y/N, right?” he asked, his tone a little too casual for the heavy topic he brought up.

You stiffened slightly but nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Man, that’s wild! I remember seeing it all over the news, and then when your face popped up again recently, I was shocked!” he continued, oblivious to your discomfort. “That’s crazy, I can’t even imagine—”

“Yeah, it was… a lot,” you mumbled, trying to make your exit, but he kept walking with you, throwing out more questions.

That’s when you spotted Heeseung, who had already noticed you from across the hall. His face lit up at first, but the moment he saw the guy beside you, his expression turned serious, his body language shifting into something far more protective.

Heeseung stood up from the bench, striding toward you with purpose, his eyes never leaving the stranger by your side. When he reached you, he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The gesture was both possessive and protective.

“Is this your boyfriend?” the guy asked, glancing between you and Heeseung.

You could feel how tense Heeseung was against you, the low growls in his throat barely audible, but enough to send a message. “Yeah, listen, it was nice meeting you,” you started, trying to defuse the situation, but before you could finish, Heeseung pulled you with him, effectively ending the conversation.

“And that means we’re done here,” you said firmly over your shoulder, matching Heeseung’s pace as he led you away from the guy.

“Okay, bye!” the man called after you, but the tone in his voice felt forced, as if the friendly façade was slipping.

As you and Heeseung walked away, you glanced back for a second, only to see the guy standing there, staring after you both. His smile had disappeared, replaced by something unreadable before he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about him.

Very off.

As you continued walking through the mall with Heeseung, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that crept over you. Something felt off. The buzz of the crowd around you seemed distant, your mind hyper-focused on the unsettling energy lingering in the air. You glanced at Heeseung, hoping it was just your imagination, but his sharp eyes were scanning the surroundings more frequently than before.

“Do you feel that?” you asked quietly, your voice low so only Heeseung could hear. You didn’t want to draw attention, but the tension in your chest was becoming unbearable.

Heeseung didn’t need to ask what you meant. He nodded, his jaw tightening as his hand around yours gripped a little firmer. “Yeah, I feel it,” he muttered, his eyes flicking toward the corners of the mall, searching for something—or someone—out of place. His body language shifted, becoming more alert, his protective instincts fully kicked in.

Without needing to say another word, the two of you picked up the pace, your steps quickening as you both began to move in sync, making your way toward the exit in a quiet rush. Every few seconds, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see something lurking just out of sight.

Heeseung was on edge too, his gaze constantly darting to the entrances and exits around you, always aware. His body was tense, as though he was ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice. That same eerie sensation, the one that had haunted you for years, had returned—a feeling that something or someone was watching you.

When you finally reached the exit, relief washed over you momentarily as you stepped into the open air of the parking lot. The world outside felt quieter, but the anxiety hadn’t left you. The two of you made a beeline for the car, and once you were safely inside, Heeseung wasted no time starting the engine.

As you and Heeseung sped away from the mall, miles of road stretched between you and the unsettling encounter. The tension slowly began to lift inside the car, but a lingering unease remained. Heeseung's hand never left yours, his grip reassuring as the city passed by in a blur.

Back at the mall, a man walked out of the main entrance, his face set in a calm, emotionless mask. His steps were steady, deliberate. He paused just outside the doors, scanning the parking lot before slipping his hands into his pockets and walking forward.

A few steps later, another figure appeared, almost out of nowhere, falling into step beside him. The second man moved with a quiet confidence, his face equally unreadable. Without a word, the two of them began walking in sync, their movements perfectly matched.

They walked as if they had done this many times before, their presence barely noticeable to the crowd bustling around them. The pair exchanged no words, no glances—just an eerie, silent understanding that hung between them.

Something was coming, something dark, and it was creeping closer with every step they took.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The next morning, you arrived at work with a heavy heart, the events of the past few days weighing on you like a lead blanket. The first thing you did was place the flowers you had bought that morning by Sullyeon’s desk. A burst of color against the stark reality of the empty space, they were a tribute to her memory, a reminder of the life she once had. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself a moment to remember her before turning away to your own desk.

The morning passed smoothly enough, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your mind. Heeseung even stopped by with lunch, his smile brightening your day. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a gesture that momentarily made everything feel normal again. But just as he left, your phone rang, breaking the calm.

An unknown caller.

You froze, your stomach twisting in knots. The office was relatively quiet, a few coworkers dozing at their desks, lost in dreams. A chill ran down your spine as you accepted the call.

“Hello?” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Miss me?” came a deep, familiar voice, sending a jolt of recognition through you. The last time you heard it, it had haunted your nightmares.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to block it out. “Not at all,” you replied, your heart racing.

“Awww, that’s not very nice. After all, I have missed you!” The tone was teasing, mocking.

“Cut the bullshit. I know this isn’t you. You are dead,” you said, your anger rising.

“Correct. It isn’t me. Seems like you knew more than you let on to the press. Naughty,” he said, the malice dripping from his words.

“Who are you? What do you want?” you demanded, your grip tightening around your phone.

“What I want? Well, it varies,” he replied, his voice smooth and sinister.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“You’ll eventually see… for now, I just wanted to talk.”

You were about to stand up when he added, “If you alert anyone, I will kill Sullyeon.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What…?”

Just then, a notification pinged on your phone. You glanced down, your heart dropping as you saw a picture: Sullyeon, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied, fear etched across her face.

You gasped, bringing the phone back to your ear. “Sullyeon’s alive?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes! Why don’t you say hello?” he said, and you heard the rustling on the other end before Sullyeon’s familiar voice broke through, desperate and terrified. “Help! Please help me! I don’t want to die!”

Panic surged through you. “Get it?” he asked, a sickening satisfaction in his tone. You nodded, remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes,” you managed to say, your heart racing.

“Good. Now be good and leave the building. Go to the parking lot,” he instructed.

“Why?” you asked, dread pooling in your stomach.

“Because we want to say hello.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in horror. You were frozen, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. Fear, guilt, and a desperate need to save Sullyeon flooded your thoughts. You had to make a choice—stay safe and keep quiet, or risk everything for her.

Then the words echoed in your mind: we.

He had said we.

There was more than one.

Panic gripped you as the reality set in. This was not just a game of cat and mouse; this was a calculated attack with multiple players involved. You carefully stood up, your heart pounding as you grabbed your bag, and started making your way toward the parking lot.

Just as you stepped outside, you spotted Yuna and Karina getting out of Karina’s car. Relief washed over you momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by dread when you realized the danger they were in.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Yuna called, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Just… lunch,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“But lunch just ended?” Karina said, raising an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice.

You were about to come up with another excuse when your blood ran cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure in a black cloak and mask stealthily approaching from behind Yuna and Karina.

“Watch out!” you screamed, your voice breaking with urgency. But it was too late.

In an instant, you watched in horror as the knife in Ghostface's hand plunged into Karina’s back. She let out a muffled scream, her body crumpling to the ground.

Yuna spun around, wide-eyed and terrified, but before she could scream, another ghostface appeared from behind her, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Two Ghostfaces. You had been right.

All you could do was watch in horror as Karina collapsed, blood pooling around her, and Yuna stood frozen, a knife pressed against her throat.

“This was unscripted… we didn’t foresee that you two would show up,” the Ghostface who had stabbed Karina said, his voice dripping with amusement. He then turned to you, “Come here.”

Your heart raced as you felt a surge of desperation. “No, no, no,” you stammered, instinctively clutching your stomach.

“Come now, or I’ll kill dear Yuna here,” the second Ghostface threatened, his grip tightening on her.

You swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “If I come… will you leave Yuna and Karina alone?” you asked, your voice shaky yet firm.

The two masked figures exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. “Yes,” one of them finally said, his tone deceptively calm.

Taking a shaky breath, you began to move toward them, each step feeling like a lead weight on your chest. The first Ghostface didn’t appreciate how slow you were walking; he reached out and grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you toward a black van parked nearby.

The same black van you kept seeing.

Your mind raced as he yanked open the door and grabbed something from inside. Before you could react, he swung the back of a gun against your head, and everything went black as you were knocked out cold and thrown into the van.

“Hurry up,” he called, his voice cold and commanding. He cocked the gun as he climbed into the driver’s seat, eyes scanning the parking lot as he prepared to drive away.

The second Ghostface quickly threw Yuna onto the ground beside Karina’s limp body. He climbed into the van, slamming the door behind him as the van peeled out of the parking lot.

“You assholes!! Murderers! Kidnappers!” Yuna screamed, scrambling to Karina’s side. Desperately, she fumbled for her phone, trying to call for help.

Laying still, your unconscious body sprawled on the cold, hard floor of the van, the second Ghostface took advantage of your vulnerable state. He rummaged through the shadows of the cramped interior, his movements swift and practiced. Pulling out a length of rope, he began tying your wrists together, the coarse fibers digging into your skin as he secured the knots tightly.

“Make sure they’re tight; she is too slippery,” the first Ghostface said, his voice commanding.

“I know, I know,” the second one replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. He expertly bound your legs, ensuring there was no chance of escape. Your body, limp and unresisting, was easily maneuverable under his hands. The pressure was overwhelming, but you remained unconscious, unable to register the sensation of the ropes digging into your flesh.

With your limbs secured, the second Ghostface reached for a sack, pulling it over your head and plunging you into darkness.

After a moment, the second Ghostface grabbed your bag from the floor of the van, rifling through its contents with an air of urgency. He pulled out your phone, the screen illuminating the dim space as he turned it over in his hands.

“Remember the code?” the first Ghostface asked.

“Of course I do,” the other replied confidently. He quickly unlocked the device, navigating through your apps with ease.

As he located the location settings, he turned off your tracking feature, ensuring that no one would be able to trace you. With a swift motion, he then powered down your phone entirely, the screen fading to black.

“Perfect,” he said, tossing the phone back into the bag before tossing it aside.

The two of them exchanged glances, a sense of satisfaction washing over them as they finished their preparations.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The news of your disappearance spread like wildfire, igniting panic and despair in the hearts of those who cared about you. Your family was in shambles, frantically calling and messaging anyone who might have seen you. Your colleagues whispered anxiously in hushed tones, casting worried glances at each other. Your friends, were desperately trying to get the police to take action.

But amid the chaos, Heeseung was a tempest of emotion, sitting in the living room of your shared space. The once-cozy area was now a wreck, furniture overturned and scattered belongings reflecting the turmoil raging within him. He felt like a caged animal, raw anger boiling beneath the surface.

Ddongsik, was safe at Sunoo’s house, and for that, Heeseung was grateful, but the emptiness of the space only amplified his sense of isolation.

He had promised to protect you, to keep you safe from the horrors of the past that had once haunted your lives. And now? Now he felt like a failure. The weight of that failure pressed heavily on his chest, making each breath feel like a struggle. He could hear the echo of his own heartbeat, a relentless reminder that time was slipping away.

His mind raced as he stood up, clenching his fists at his sides. He needed a plan—he couldn’t just sit idly by while you were out there, in danger. There was only one thing to do.

He made his way to the mess on the floor, searching for his phone. As he picked it up, his gaze hardened with determination. He opened his contacts, scrolling until he found the name he needed. Pressing the phone to his ear, he breathed heavily, willing the other person to pick up.

“Pick up,” he muttered under his breath, anxiety coiling tightly in his stomach.

Finally, the call connected. “Get ready. I need you,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. There was no time for niceties or explanations; he ended the call almost as quickly as it began.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Heeseung turned and stormed out of the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he gripped the wheel with fierce determination. He had somewhere to visit before he came for you.

As he drove off, the night swallowed him in darkness, but a single flame of resolve burned brightly within him. He would not fail you again.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The hospital room was heavy with tension, the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the palpable anxiety that hung in the air. Karina lay unconscious in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded her. She was hooked up to various machines, beeping rhythmically, a constant reminder of the fragility of life.

In one corner of the room, Yuna and Taehyun stood, their voices raised as they argued over what to do about your whereabouts.

“What do you mean we can’t just wait? We need to go to the police again!” Yuna insisted, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears threatening to spill over as she glanced at her friend lying in the hospital bed. “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best!”

Taehyun ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “And what do you think will happen if we go to the police again? They’ll just brush us off! We need to figure this out ourselves!” His voice was laced with desperation, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Figure it out how, Taehyun? By yelling at each other? By making each other feel worse?” Yuna shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “We need to be doing something productive, not arguing!”

Before Taehyun could respond, the door swung open, and a couple of nurses entered, their expressions a mix of professionalism and concern. The tension in the room was so thick that it felt like they had walked into a minefield.

“Excuse me, but we can’t have this kind of arguing in here,” one of the nurses said firmly, glancing at Karina and then back at Yuna and Taehyun. “You need to keep your voices down. This is a hospital, and your friend needs to rest.”

Yuna and Taehyun exchanged glances, both realizing that their emotions were getting the better of them. They took a step back, the heat of the moment cooling as they recognized the seriousness of the situation.

“Sorry,” Yuna mumbled, looking down at the floor, shame creeping in as she felt the weight of her worry for Karina.

Taehyun nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We’re just… worried about her,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurses moved around the room, checking Karina’s vitals, their movements efficient and calm. One of them smiled reassuringly at Yuna and Taehyun. “We’re doing everything we can for her. She’s a fighter, and she’s in good hands. Just try to stay calm, okay?”

As the nurses continued their work, Yuna took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “We need to think of a plan,” she said, her voice quieter now but still filled with determination. “We can’t let this go on. We have to find Y/N.”

Taehyun's gaze drifted back to Karina, lying unconscious and fragile in her hospital bed. “I know we need a plan, but right now… all we can do is hope that Y/N is still alive.” he finally said, his voice low but steady.

Yuna bit her lip, fighting back tears as she nodded slowly. “I know,” she replied, her voice trembling. “I just… I can’t shake this feeling that something terrible is happening to her. What if they…”

“Stop,” Taehyun interjected, shaking his head. “We can’t think like that. We have to believe she’s okay. We have to believe she’s out there fighting to come back to us.”

Yuna sniffed, tears spilling over her cheeks. “But what if she’s not? What if she’s… trapped or worse?” Her voice broke, the fear spilling out.

“I can’t even entertain that thought,” Taehyun replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Y/N is strong. She’s faced Ghostface before. She’s survived this kind of nightmare. She’s still fighting, I know it. We just have to keep hoping and… and doing whatever we can to help.”

Yuna wiped her tears away, her expression a mixture of sadness and determination. “You’re right."

“Let’s figure out what we can do next,” Taehyun said, his tone resolute. “We need to reach out to everyone who might have seen something or knows something. There’s got to be a lead somewhere.”

Yuna nodded, taking a deep breath as she composed herself. “Okay."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the lingering fog of unconsciousness. The pain in the back of your head throbbed like a drum, making it difficult to focus. Panic began to rise within you as you realized you couldn’t move. Your wrists and ankles were bound tightly, the ropes biting into your skin as you struggled against them.

The darkness enveloped you, except for the faint glow of the moon filtering through a broken window, casting eerie shadows across the room. You shivered, the chill seeping into your clothes, which were inadequate for the cold air. Your heart raced as you caught a whiff of something metallic and unsettling—a stark contrast to the musty scent of the space. Looking down, you noticed the floor beneath you was stained with dry blood, and the realization made your stomach churn.

Desperate to understand your surroundings, you turned your head, scanning the dimly lit room. That’s when you saw her. Your heart dropped. Sullyeon was lying just a few feet away from you, unconscious and vulnerable. Fear gripped you as you tried to call out to her, but your voice was muffled by the gag that restrained you. Panic coursed through your veins as you wriggled in a futile attempt to free yourself.

“Sullyeon!” you managed to whimper, hoping that somehow your voice would penetrate the haze of her unconsciousness. You struggled to get closer, but the ropes held you firmly in place. You could see the bruises forming on her skin, the remnants of whatever violence had occurred before you both ended up here.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the rising tide of fear. You needed to wake her up; she needed to know she wasn’t alone. You tried again, making sounds that were half whimpers, half grunts, but she remained unresponsive.

“Please, Sullyeon,” you begged silently, your eyes darting around the room for anything that could help. There had to be a way out of this nightmare.

As you shifted slightly, trying to get her attention, the memories of the phone call flooded back—Ghostface, the threats, the urgency. A cold dread settled in your stomach. You couldn’t let despair take hold. You had to stay strong, for both of you.

With a sudden determination, you began to rock your body back and forth, hoping to dislodge the ropes binding you. If you could just get free, you could help Sullyeon and find a way out of this place.

With a sudden jolt, your efforts to rock the chair back and forth became too intense. The chair tipped over, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard floor. A sharp pain shot through your side, and you groaned, the impact making your head spin.

In a frantic effort, you managed to pull the gag from your mouth, feeling the coarse fabric scrape against your lips. The taste of the cloth was metallic, and you spat it out, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. You took a moment to steady yourself, but before you could formulate a plan, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

As you looked up, your heart sank.

Two figures loomed over you, their silhouettes barely illuminated by the faint light filtering through the broken window. Instinctively, you narrowed your eyes, fueled by anger and a desperate need for escape.

“Look who’s awake!” one of them exclaimed, a mocking cheerfulness in his voice that sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the smirk behind the ghostly mask.

“Sorry for the mess, it’s a rent,” the other one chimed in, a tone of faux apology lacing his words.

“We got it for free!” the first one added, a laugh bubbling up from beneath the mask.

You felt your stomach churn as the harsh reality of your situation settled in. They had been joking about this—about the chaos and pain they were causing. You glared at them, the fire of your hatred burning in your chest.

Now that you were up close, you noticed the details you had missed before. The lean Ghostface wore a mask that seemed almost sad, its eyes downturned, as if it were mourning something. The other Ghostface, however, wore a bloodied mask, the crimson streaks an unsettling contrast against the white surface. Each mask told a story of violence and despair, one of them hiding behind a facade of sorrow while the other relished in the brutality.

“Let me go!” you spat, your voice hoarse and filled with venom. “You think this is funny?”

The taller one chuckled, leaning closer to you. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not about the laughter. It’s about the thrill. And you… you’re the main event.”

The sad one stepped forward, a strange glimmer of something almost empathetic flickering behind the sad mask. “We didn’t want to hurt you, but you know how it is. This is just business.”

“Business?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re monsters!”

“Monsters?” the bloodied one echoed, tilting his head. “That’s rich coming from you. You think you’re the victim here?"

Your heart raced as they loomed over you, their words slicing through the air like a knife. “What do you want from me?” you demanded, determination mingling with fear.

“Oh, we want you to play,” the bloodied Ghostface said with a sinister smile. “A little game of cat and mouse. And you, my dear, are the mouse.”

Before you could respond, they both lunged forward, grabbing you by the arms and hauling you back to your feet, forcing you to stand despite the pain shooting through your body.

“Welcome to the show,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost playful, sending another wave of dread through you. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s been through something traumatic. It’s your turn to entertain us.”

You felt your stomach drop as the implications of his words settled in. This wasn’t just about you; it was a twisted game for their enjoyment, and you were the unwilling participant.

“Let Sullyeon go!” you shouted, your voice ringing with desperation. “She hasn’t done anything!”

The bloodied mask ghostface stepped closer, his tone mocking. “Oh, but we’ve got plans for her too. Just sit tight. The fun is about to begin.”

They began to drag you toward the grimey window the room, and you searched for a way out. You knew you had to think fast. The stakes had never been higher, and your survival depended on your wits and strength.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, searching for anything you could use to your advantage. The moonlight streamed in through the broken window, illuminating the remnants of what looked like a former living space—a few scattered pieces of furniture, a shattered mirror, and remnants of something that looked like a previous struggle.

You felt the blood drain from your face as the bloodied-masked Ghostface dragged Sullyeon’s unconscious body across the forest floor. “No, no, no!” you gasped, panic surging through you. You struggled against the ropes binding you to the chair, but it was no use.

The view sent chills down your spine—the back of the abandoned house opened up to a dense forest, but it was the graveyard that made your heart drop. Rows of crooked tombstones jutted out of the ground, silhouetted against the night sky.

“Front row tickets!” the sad-masked Ghostface chuckled darkly, leaning against you. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but your words caught in your throat as you watched the bloodied-masked one throw Sullyeon to the forest floor like a discarded rag doll.

“Leave her alone!” you shouted, voice trembling as he cut the ropes binding her legs, leaving her wrists tied. The next moment, he doused her with a bucket of cold water, and you watched in horror as she sputtered awake, confusion flashing across her face. In a panic, she bolted upright, and ran.

“Run! Sullyeon, run!” you screamed, your voice hoarse with fear, but it fell on deaf ears. The bloodied mask Ghostface waited a moment, a sinister grin etched on his mask, before he took off after her, his movements smooth.

You felt helpless, chained to the chair as you watched Sullyeon sprint into the night, desperation fueling her flight. But he was faster, and as you screamed for her to escape, your heart sank further with each agonizing second.

“No! Sullyeon!” you screamed, desperate to reach her, but the ropes only dug deeper into your wrists as you struggled against your restraints. “Leave her alone! We had a deal!”

But your cries fell on deaf ears as the bloodied-masked Ghostface swiftly caught up to her. You watched in horror as he plunged the knife into her back. “No!” you screamed again, but the sound only echoed back at you in the empty night.

Sullyeon collapsed onto the graveyard floor, her body going limp. “Sullyeon!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as the ghostface loomed over her. He dragged her lifeless form toward a freshly dug grave, and you felt your heart shatter as he threw her down into the dark hole.

“No! You assholes! You liars!” you screamed, the weight of the loss crushing down on you. “You promised!”

The sad-masked Ghostface dragged you away from the window, and you thrashed against his grip. “Easy there, sweetcheeks,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “We used her as an example for you. For now, we won’t hurt you, but only if you behave.”

He pulled the gag back over your mouth, tying it tightly around your head as you glared defiantly at him, tears blurring your vision. “Now stay put,” he said, patting your cheek as if you were a pet. You watched him retreat, the door clicking shut behind him.

You screamed and cursed through the gag, frustration boiling over, but the futility of your situation crashed over you like a wave. Hours felt like days as you lay there in the darkness, staring up at the moon through the window, shivering from the chill that seeped into your bones.

It was too late. You had failed to save Sullyeon, and the weight of that reality hung heavy in the air, suffocating you with despair.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

As you sat in the chair, tied and gagged, you found yourself slipping in and out of sleep, the exhaustion taking its toll on your body. The pain in your wrists from the rough ropes and the ache in your head from the earlier blow pulsed rhythmically with each breath. Each time you closed your eyes, darkness enveloped you, bringing a brief respite from your grim reality, but it never lasted long before the cold or hunger stirred you back to consciousness.

When the sun finally crested the horizon, its light streamed through the broken window, casting soft beams across the room. You groaned, your voice muffled against the gag, as you blinked against the brightness, still feeling the remnants of your nightmares. Alone. The room felt empty, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed your life just days ago.

Hours dragged on, and the sunlight slowly faded, giving way to a dimming sky. You had no sense of time, but the shadows creeping along the walls told you the sun had sunk low, and with it, your hope flickered like a dying flame. Your stomach grumbled painfully, a reminder of your hunger that gnawed at you, sharper with each passing moment. You wished for water, for anything to quell the parched feeling in your throat.

As the house settled into quiet, an eerie stillness enveloped you. The only sounds were the creaking of the old structure and the rustle of the wind outside. You wondered if you were alone most of the time in this desolate place. Was there no one watching over you? Or were they simply waiting for the right moment to return?

Your heart raced as you listened intently for any sounds in the house. The stillness was unnerving, and after what felt like an eternity of waiting, you slowly began nudging the chair you were tied to, grunting with the effort. You strained against the ropes, desperate for freedom, and with a sudden shift, the chair tipped over, sending you crashing to the floor. A small voice of victory escaped your lips as you fell, exhilaration flooding through you.

You quickly quieted down, ears straining for any response, but silence enveloped you. Cautiously, you looked around the room and your gaze fell on a shard of broken glass scattered on the floor. You didn’t know if it was from the window or a mirror, but it didn’t matter. It was your only chance.

With shaky hands, you grabbed the glass, carefully positioning it against the ropes binding your wrists. You began to saw back and forth, your heart pounding as you focused on freeing yourself. Time became a blur, each agonizing second stretching out as you desperately worked at the ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you felt the tightness give way enough to slip your hands free. You quickly pulled the gag from your mouth, relief flooding over you as you gasped in the stale air, smacking your dry lips.

No time to celebrate. You grabbed the glass again, using it to cut the ropes around your legs before standing unsteadily. The hunger and exhaustion fought against you, but adrenaline propelled you forward as you made your way to the door. You pulled down the handle and pushed it open, peeking out into the empty hallway.

Cautiously, you tiptoed down the corridor, heart racing, until you heard a front door slam shut. Panic gripped you as the voices of the two Ghostfaces echoed through the house. You quickly scanned your surroundings and spotted a half-open door nearby. You slipped inside, barely breathing as you listened.

You glanced around the room, taking in the dimly lit space before your eyes landed on an open window. Freedom lay just outside.

You climbed out of the window, carefully navigating the shards of glass that crunched underfoot as you made your way onto the roof of the veranda. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling darkness inside. Just as you steadied yourself, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, making your heart race. You ducked down, pressing your body against the sloped roof, praying they wouldn’t see you.

Voices erupted from inside, panic lacing their words. “She’s gone!” one shouted, the urgency in his tone sending chills down your spine. “Where did she go?” another replied, their frantic footsteps pounding against the floor. “He’s gonna kill us!”

You knew you had to keep moving, and carefully, you made your way to the edge of the roof. Peeking over, you assessed the ground below; it was a good drop, but you didn’t have time to think about it.

Suddenly, you saw the sad-masked Ghostface poking his head out of the window, his finger pointing directly at you. “There she is!” he yelled, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

In a panic, you leaped off the roof, hitting the ground hard. Pain shot through your legs, but you didn’t stop to assess the damage. You forced yourself to your feet and sprinted away from the house, the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Get her!” you heard behind you. “She’s running!” the voice filled with a twisted excitement.

You sprinted past the graveyard, heart pounding as you raced into the thick embrace of the forest. Branches whipped at your face and legs, but you didn’t stop. You had to keep moving, had to put distance between you and the twisted faces of your captors.

You had to escape. You had to survive.

You pushed deeper into the forest, branches clawing at your arms and legs as you ran. The dense canopy overhead blocked out most of the moonlight, casting the woods into a near-complete darkness that was both disorienting and comforting. You had a good head start, but you could still hear their footsteps crashing through the underbrush behind you. The sounds grew louder, closer, and dread pooled in your stomach.

The forest was a double-edged sword; the thick trees and foliage offered you cover but also limited your visibility and speed. You had to be careful not to trip over roots or lose your bearings. Every time you heard a twig snap or a branch break, panic surged through you. They were hunting you, and every moment counted.

You darted around a massive oak tree, momentarily hidden from view, and pressed your back against its rough bark, trying to catch your breath. You could hear them yelling to each other, their voices echoing through the trees, frustration evident in their shouts. “She went this way!” one called, his tone filled with a mix of anger and eagerness.

You took a moment to listen, heart racing, hoping that they would miss you. The darkness felt heavy around you, and you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You had to think strategically. If they were coming from behind, then you needed to move laterally—find a way to confuse them.

As you carefully peeked around the tree, you spotted a narrow path weaving through the underbrush, leading deeper into the forest. Taking a deep breath, you made a decision. You would have to take the risk.

You slipped away from the tree and sprinted down the path, forcing your legs to keep moving despite the exhaustion that was beginning to creep in. You could hear the muffled sounds of their pursuit behind you, but the dense trees began to obscure their voices.

You focused on the path ahead, your heart pounding in your ears, urging you to go faster. The moonlight broke through the canopy occasionally, illuminating your way and giving you just enough light to navigate the twists and turns of the forest.

You pushed yourself, heart racing, as you dodged branches and ducked under low-hanging limbs. You didn’t know where the path led, but it had to be better than staying in the open. You needed to find a place to hide—somewhere they couldn’t reach you.

In the distance, you heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps growing closer, but you were determined not to let them catch you. You had to survive. You would fight for your life.

You were pushing yourself to keep moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart raced as you tried to look behind you, desperate to gauge how close they were. That was the exact moment your foot caught on a root hidden beneath the leaves. You tumbled forward, unable to regain your balance, and fell down a steep ravine, the world spinning as you plummeted.

The impact was jarring. You groaned in pain, your wrist twisting awkwardly beneath you as you landed hard on the rocky ground. Pain shot through your arm, and you instinctively clutched at it, biting back a scream. Panic surged as you glanced up, the sound of your pursuer's footsteps growing louder.

Peering through the dim light, you caught sight of the sad-masked Ghostface peering over the edge of the ravine, a sinister smile painted on his mask. "I found you," he said, his voice dripping with a twisted satisfaction.

Fear washed over you, igniting a primal instinct to survive. You screamed, the sound echoing in the hollow of the ravine, before you scrambled to your feet, pain radiating from your wrist but ignoring it in the rush of adrenaline. You could hear him chuckling above, but you didn’t have time to think about that.

You ran again, the ground uneven beneath your feet, struggling to navigate the rocks and brush. The ravine was deeper than you had thought, and as you ran, your breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation laced with desperation. The darkness felt suffocating, but you forced yourself to focus on finding a way out.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind you, their rhythm growing closer. “You can’t escape!” the sad-masked Ghostface taunted, his voice mocking. You didn’t dare look back; you just ran, hoping that the terrain would slow him down.

Just ahead, you spotted a narrow path leading up the opposite side of the ravine. It was steep, but it was your only chance. You pushed yourself harder, legs burning as you climbed, using the rocks and roots for leverage. You had to get to the top before he reached you.

With every ounce of strength, you finally reached the edge, pulling yourself up and scrambling onto solid ground. You turned to look back, panting heavily, heart racing. The sad-masked Ghostface stood at the edge of the ravine, frustration evident in his stance, but he was still trying to find a way down.

You took a moment to catch your breath, scanning your surroundings for any potential escape routes. You needed to keep moving. You had to stay one step ahead.

You would find a way out. You had to.

You ducked behind a thick tree, heart pounding in your chest as you leaned against the rough bark. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you peeked around the trunk, scanning for any sign of the sad-masked Ghostface. Relief flooded over you when you saw that he was no longer at the top of the ravine. It seemed for a moment that you had escaped.

The forest around you was eerily quiet, a stillness that felt both comforting and unsettling. You laid your head back against the tree, allowing yourself a moment to breathe. Your wrist throbbed painfully, a reminder of your fall, but the fear of being caught kept you from fully assessing the damage.

As you gathered your thoughts and tried to prepare for your next move, you heard nothing—no footsteps, no voices, nothing. The silence wrapped around you like a shroud, and you began to consider moving again, to find a safer place to hide.

Just as you were about to step out from behind the tree, a sudden chill ran down your spine. You glanced up, and to your horror, two figures emerged from behind the trees directly in front of you. Both Ghostfaces stepped into view, their masks eerily expressionless but the glint of malice in their eyes unmistakable.

“How?” you shouted, your voice shaking with disbelief and fear. You hadn’t heard them approaching at all.

The two of them exchanged glances, a silent communication that sent dread pooling in your stomach. Before you could react, they lunged at you simultaneously. Panic surged through you, and you ducked to the side just in time to avoid the first swipe of a knife.

You stumbled backward, your heart racing as you searched for a way to escape. You darted to the left, narrowly avoiding a second strike, but you felt a sharp tug at your shirt as one of them grabbed you. You twisted in their grip, desperate to break free, but the other Ghostface was closing in fast.

“Get away from me!” you shouted, adrenaline fueling your struggle as you fought against the grip tightening around your arms.

Just as you thought you might break free, you caught a glimpse of the knife glinting in the moonlight. The sight sent a wave of terror through you, and you kicked out with all your strength, managing to break free from the hold of one of them. You turned to run, the fear propelling you forward as you dashed into the dense underbrush.

Branches whipped against your arms and legs, but you pressed on, knowing you couldn’t stop. The sounds of their pursuit echoed behind you, taunts mixing with the rustling of leaves and snapping twigs as they followed closely. The forest felt alive, every sound amplifying the danger that lurked in the shadows.

“Keep running!” one of them shouted, laughter tinged with malice. “You’re just making this more fun!”

You knew you had to find a way to outsmart them, to lose them in the twisting paths of the forest. You pushed your aching body to its limits, desperation giving you strength as you darted through the trees, your only thought to survive.

You pushed yourself through the underbrush, every instinct screaming at you to keep moving. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, sharpening your senses as you spotted a thick bush up ahead. You dove behind it just as you heard the crunch of leaves behind you.

“They’re getting slower,” you muttered under your breath, your heart racing. You knew that if you could just outsmart them for a moment, you might buy yourself some time.

As they drew nearer, you grabbed a handful of small stones scattered on the ground and hurled them toward the right, creating a loud clatter. Instantly, the two Ghostfaces turned their attention in that direction. Seizing the moment, you dashed to the left, weaving through the trees and thick underbrush.

“Split up!” you heard one of them shout, and you felt a surge of hope. If they were separated, you could evade them more easily.

But as you ducked under branches and maneuvered around roots, you could hear them regaining their ground. The forest felt like a maze, and you used every trick you could think of to keep them at bay. You grabbed a low-hanging branch and swung it toward one of them as he approached, hitting him hard enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled back, but the other was still closing in fast.

“Get her!” he shouted, lunging at you with the knife. You barely dodged his swipe, feeling the cold air rush past as the blade narrowly missed you.

You picked up a nearby rock and hurled it at him, hitting his shoulder. “Hey! Watch where you’re throwing that!” He cursed, and that moment of surprise was enough to buy you a few precious seconds. You dashed deeper into the woods, panting heavily, but you could hear the two of them coordinating their chase.

But as the chase continued, you could feel your strength waning. Each time you narrowly avoided their attacks, they managed to graze you, leaving cuts on your arms and torso. Your shirt soaked through with blood, but you pressed on, driven by the need to survive.

Eventually, you reached a clearing with a thick tree trunk at its center. Thinking quickly, you ducked behind it, hoping they would run past you. The moment they did, you bolted from your hiding spot, adrenaline pushing you forward once more.

But just as you thought you might escape, you turned to see the other Ghostface emerge from the other side of the clearing, blocking your path. Panic surged through you as you realized you were surrounded.

“Gotcha!” one of them laughed, and before you could react, they lunged at you. You fought back with everything you had, kicking and screaming as you tried to break free. But their combined strength overwhelmed you.

They tackled you to the ground, pinning you down. You struggled, but it was no use; they were too strong, and exhaustion was creeping in fast. As they restrained you, you felt the sharp prick of a knife close to your throat, and your body froze in fear.

“Stop moving, or we’ll make this much worse,” the bloodied Ghostface warned, his voice low and dangerous.

With one final effort, you tried to twist away, but it only earned you a sharp jab to the side. Pain shot through you, and the world began to spin.

“Just relax,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost mocking as he tightened his grip. “You’ll be out of here in no time.”

You were outnumbered and outmatched. The last thing you saw was the glint of a knife above you before everything faded to black as they knocked you out cold.

When you regained consciousness, it was in a haze. You met with the dim light filtering through the broken windows of the living room. The room was eerily quiet except for the sound of your labored breathing and the faint creaks of the old house settling around you.

The cold floor beneath you sent shivers through your body. You tried to move, but the ropes binding your wrists and ankles were tight, digging into your skin with each futile attempt to wriggle free. Panic rose within you as you recalled the last moments of your freedom before they had caught you again.

As your vision cleared, you spotted the two Ghostfaces nearby, their masks glinting ominously in the low light. The sad-masked one leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the other one paced back and forth like a caged animal.

“Not letting you out of our sight,” the sad-masked one said, a sinister grin hidden behind the mask.

“No glass now to cut yourself loose,” the other added, his voice low and mocking.

You glared at them, anger bubbling beneath your fear. “You won’t get away with this!” you spat, your voice hoarse and weak.

The pacing Ghostface stopped and turned to you, tilting his head as if considering your words. “Oh, but we already have,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re all ours now."

The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest. You had no idea how much time had passed since your abduction or if anyone was even searching for you anymore. You felt utterly alone, but you couldn’t let them see your fear.

“I won’t give up,” you replied defiantly, though your voice quivered.

The sad-masked Ghostface chuckled softly. “That’s the spirit! But you might want to reconsider your chances. It’s just the two of us now, and we’re not afraid to make it more… interesting.”

You swallowed hard, feeling dread wash over you as they exchanged glances, their twisted excitement palpable. Desperation clawed at your insides. You needed to think of a way out, to use whatever time you had before they decided to make good on their threats.

The room felt stifling, the ropes around your limbs a constant reminder of your captivity. You started to shift your wrists, trying to find any weakness in the bonds. If you could just loosen them enough, maybe you could break free.

As you moved, the sad-masked Ghostface stepped closer, watching you intently. “What’s the matter? Trying to escape? You really think you can get away from us?”

You froze, your heart racing as he crouched down beside you, his mask mere inches from your face. “You should know by now that we always win.”

You locked eyes with him, steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm you. “We’ll see about that,” you challenged, even as the weight of your reality pressed heavily upon you.

The pacing Ghostface resumed his movements, and as you carefully continued to twist your wrists, you felt the slightest give in the ropes. Hope ignited within you. You just had to buy time until you could get loose.

The tension in the room escalated as the two Ghostfaces began to argue amongst themselves. The bloodied masked one was clearly furious, his voice low and threatening as he paced back and forth. The sad-masked one stood there, arms crossed, seemingly unfazed by his partner’s anger.

When they turned their attention back to you, and the sad-masked one approached, tilting his head with a curious yet predatory look. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” he said, leaning closer. “Tell us about the first Ghostface. Is he alive? Do you know where he is?”

You stared back defiantly, refusing to answer. His questions felt like bait, and you wouldn’t take it.

Frustrated, the bloodied Ghostface stepped in, his tone turning accusatory. “What about the second Ghostface? Taehyung! What happened to him?”

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name, shock coursing through you. You had never expected to hear about Taehyung from them, and the sudden realization that they knew about him sent your mind racing.

“What do you know about him?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, instinctively defensive.

“Doesn’t matter,” the bloodied Ghostface growled, moving closer. “What matters is what you know. So, are you going to tell us, or are we going to have to make this… unpleasant?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “They’re both gone,” you shouted defiantly, your voice echoing off the walls. “You’ll never find them!”

Both Ghostfaces stilled at your words, exchanging a glance that sent a shiver down your spine. You could see the anger and frustration brewing between them, and you knew you had struck a nerve.

“You think you can play games with us?” the bloodied one hissed, stepping even closer. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

The sad-masked one smirked, the corners of his mask curling upward. “Seems like you’re not going to cooperate, which means we have to resort to other methods.”

You steeled yourself, fully aware of the implications. “Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you,” you retorted, even though a part of you trembled at the thought of what they might do.

They exchanged another glance, and you could see their minds working. You had no idea what they had in store, but you were prepared to fight back against whatever twisted game they intended to play.

The bloodied Ghostface turned to you, his tone low and menacing. “You may think you’re tough, but we have ways to get the truth out of you. You’ll regret not talking soon enough.”

As they stepped back, you braced yourself.

As the two Ghostfaces approached with their knives glinting ominously, your breath hitched in fear. Your heart raced, and your mind instinctively went to Heeseung. Was he safe? Was he even looking for you? You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump followed by grunts of pain. You heard bodies crashing to the floor, but felt no pain. Cautiously, you opened your eyes—and gasped.

Standing before you was another Ghostface. His mask was dirtied, the cloak torn and stained. In his hand, he held a heavy plank, which he had clearly used to knock out the other two. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process what you were seeing.

"You…" you started, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Without a word, the Ghostface dropped the plank and, with deliberate movements, pulled the dirty mask up just enough to reveal his face. Your heart skipped a beat.

It was Heeseung.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the sight of him—your Heeseung, standing there in front of you, having just saved you. “How?” you whispered, barely able to find your voice, overwhelmed with relief and shock.

Heeseung’s expression was intense but softened as he pulled the mask back down over his face. "Sorry I didn’t get here sooner," he said quietly, immediately kneeling beside you. He picked up one of the knives from the ground and quickly began cutting through the binds around your wrists. "It was harder than I thought to track you down."

As soon as your hands were free, he gave you the other knife. You stood up, your legs trembling as the reality of your rescue sank in. And then, without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you close as your tears of happiness flowed freely.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you cried into his shoulder, your voice muffled by the cloak he still wore.

“I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I?” Heeseung whispered, his grip tightening as if he’d never let go. You could feel the weight of his words—he had come for you, just like he said he would.

The two Ghostfaces stirred, groaning in pain, they struggled to stand upright. The bloodied-masked one wiped his hands on his cloak and pointed at Heeseung, his voice rough. "You! Who the hell are you?"

Heeseung straightened up, his presence commanding and cold. He held the knife tightly, his stance shifting as he met their eyes. "I understand you two were looking for me?" His voice dropped, deep and dangerous, the same chilling tone you recognized from the past—the voice he’d used back when he first called you, before everything had changed. Before he’d fallen in love with you. Before he had planned to kill you.

You couldn’t help but shiver, the memories flooding back.

The sad-masked Ghostface tilted his head, his voice laced with confusion and awe. "You… you're him?"

Heeseung took a step forward, eyes narrowing behind the mask. "I’m the original."

At those words, the two Ghostfaces exchanged quick, shocked glances, the realization hitting them hard. Their curiosity quickly spiraled into a barrage of questions.

"What happened to you?" the sad-masked one asked, his voice trembling with a mix of admiration and fear. "Why did you vanish?"

"Why are you back now?" the bloodied one chimed in, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. "And where is Taehyung? The second Ghostface?"

The room was tense, the weight of their questions hanging in the air. Heeseung's eyes darkened, his grip on the knife tightening as he stared them down. There was no trace of the loving partner you knew in this moment—this was the cold, ruthless version of him they were dealing with.

"I had my reasons for disappearing," Heeseung said, his voice steady, calculated. "But trust me when I say—you're making the same mistakes we did. And as for Taehyung…" Heeseung’s gaze flickered, a flash of something unreadable crossing his features. "He’s gone. Permanently."

The silence in the room was deafening as the two Ghostfaces processed his words, shifting uneasily. They had no idea what they were truly up against now.

The two Ghostfaces exchanged glances, clearly unsettled by Heeseung’s words. The bloodied-masked one shifted his stance, gripping his knife tighter, but there was hesitation now. "Gone? What do you mean he's gone?" His voice was laced with frustration and confusion.

Heeseung’s gaze was unrelenting, his calm demeanor only making the tension thicker. "Taehyung made a choice. One that cost him his life." His voice was low, deliberate, sending a shiver through you. He glanced at you for a brief moment, his expression softening, before returning his cold stare to the two Ghostfaces.

"You're lying," the sad-masked one spat, taking a step forward. "He wouldn’t just die. You did something to him, didn't you?"

Heeseung remained motionless, the knife in his hand glinting under the dim light. "It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you two are playing a game you can’t win."

The bloodied Ghostface’s grip on his knife wavered slightly as he processed Heeseung’s words. Heeseung’s presence was overpowering, and you could see the doubt creeping into their movements. They had wanted to emulate the original, to bring back the fear and chaos, but now they were standing face to face with the source of it all. And they weren’t prepared.

"You think you can just walk in here and take over?" the bloodied Ghostface sneered, trying to regain some control. "We’ve planned this for years. We’re not going to let you ruin it!"

Heeseung stepped forward, his knife raising slightly, his voice dark and taunting. "Ruin it? You’ve already ruined yourselves. The moment you decided to come after her"—he motioned toward you—"you sealed your fate."

Before they could react, Heeseung lunged forward with a precision that was terrifying to watch. His knife sliced through the air, and the bloodied Ghostface barely managed to dodge the strike, stumbling backward. The sad-masked one, too slow to react, was left vulnerable. Heeseung’s movements were fluid, quick, and within moments, he had knocked the sad-masked one to the ground with a powerful kick.

You stood frozen, gripping the knife he had given you, your heart pounding. Heeseung was a different person now—cold, relentless, and efficient. You had always known he had this side, but seeing it again, now, reminded you of the past when he wasn’t your savior, but your enemy.

The bloodied Ghostface rushed at Heeseung, but Heeseung sidestepped with ease, slashing his knife across the Ghostface’s arm. A scream of pain filled the room as the bloodied Ghostface dropped his weapon, clutching his bleeding arm.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Heeseung muttered, his voice filled with contempt. "You’re nothing but cheap copies."

Heeseung’s knife pressed against the sad-masked one’s throat as he pinned him to the ground. The bloodied one, still holding his arm, looked on in desperation, knowing he was outmatched.

"Please," the sad-masked Ghostface whimpered, his voice shaking. "We were just trying to continue what you started."

Heeseung looked down at him, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. For a moment, you wondered if he’d show mercy.

"You never understood," Heeseung said coldly. "This was never about continuing. It was always about ending."

The bloodied Ghostface, desperate and enraged, let out a roar as he lunged at Heeseung from behind. Heeseung, quick and unphased, sidestepped and grabbed the bloodied one's arm, twisting it sharply before flipping him over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor with a painful thud. The bloodied one groaned, clutching his side, but his sudden attack gave the sad-masked one just enough time to back away and regroup with him.

The two Ghostfaces stood together now, breathing heavily, shaken but determined. Heeseung's cold eyes followed their every move, his grip on the knife unwavering. He pointed it at them, the air thick with tension. "Who even are you?" Heeseung demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"We are the remnant of the past," they both said in unison, their voices hollow behind the masks.

Without another word, the two Ghostfaces charged at Heeseung again, this time in perfect sync, a relentless force determined to bring him down. They swung their knives with wild fury, but Heeseung was faster, dodging and countering with sharp, calculated movements. Each clash of metal rang out in the room, the echoes of their battle filling the dark space.

Heeseung deflected their attacks, his focus unbreakable. He managed to slice across the sad-masked one’s arm, drawing blood, but the other seized the moment and slashed at Heeseung’s side. He grunted, taking the hit but not faltering, spinning around with a quick kick that sent the bloodied one stumbling back.

"You’re just like the others," Heeseung muttered through gritted teeth, his breathing heavy but controlled. "Thinking you can survive this. But you won’t."

The sad-masked Ghostface, now visibly injured, glanced at his partner. They were clearly weakening, their moves becoming sloppy. But they weren’t giving up. They circled Heeseung again, trying to flank him from both sides.

Heeseung shifted his stance, readying himself. This was far from over.

You watched, heart racing, knowing the stakes. Heeseung wasn’t just fighting for himself—he was fighting for you.

Suddenly the sad-masked Ghostface made a beeline for you, you bolted, your legs carrying you as fast as they could into a nearby kitchen. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out the fear, but only barely. You looked around wildly for anything to defend yourself with, your heart pounding. Before you could react, he tackled you from behind, slamming you into the cold kitchen tiles.

He raised his knife high, ready to bring it down on you. In desperation, you gripped your own knife tightly and thrust it upward, piercing his stomach. He shouted in pain, his strike going wild and stabbing your shoulder instead. A scream ripped from your throat as he yanked the blade out, preparing to stab you again.

Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, something—or someone—grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak and hurled him off you. Gasping in shock, you looked up and saw a figure standing above you. Unlike the others, this Ghostface wore a black mask instead of the iconic white.

"Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!" the voice was almost cheery, and you blinked in confusion.

“Huh?” you muttered, dazed and unsure of what was happening.

Before you could even process, the sad-masked Ghostface charged again, but the black-masked figure reacted instantly, delivering a brutal kick followed by a series of punches that sent the sad-masked assailant flying out of the kitchen.

Heeseung rushed in just then, his eyes frantic as he saw you on the floor, bloodied but alive. "Let's go! Let's go!" he yelled, grabbing you under one arm, while the black-masked Ghostface took your other side. They practically carried you as you all ran toward the front door, only to find it blocked by the bloodied Ghostface, his knife gleaming in the dim light.

"Upstairs!" Heeseung barked, and the three of you rushed up the staircase, racing into a room at the end of the hall. Slamming the door shut behind you, they quickly barricaded it with anything they could find, their movements fast and desperate.

"I have a plan!" the black-masked Ghostface said, catching his breath.

"What’s your plan?" Heeseung asked, still on high alert.

"It involves fire," the black-masked figure answered, nonchalantly as if this was an everyday conversation.

"What?" Heeseung shot back, clearly not expecting that answer.

"Can someone tell me what's happening?!" you shouted, the frustration and confusion finally boiling over. None of this made any sense. Your shoulder throbbed, and you were bleeding, cornered in a strange house with two people you were barely keeping up with.

Both Heeseung and the black-masked figure turned to you. The black-masked figure tilted his head before casually pulling the mask up.

"Jake?!" you exclaimed, your jaw dropping.

"Heya!" Jake grinned, far too cheerful for the situation.

"You're Ghostface too?!" You were more shocked than angry, your mind barely able to wrap around the revelation. Jake, your friend—now in the same mask that had haunted you—was standing there like this was just a reunion.

Heeseung, shaking his head, sighed and looked over at Jake. "So… fire?"

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, I think burning this place down should work. It’ll take care of those two, right?"

Heeseung frowned, glancing at you before looking back at Jake. "You're serious about this?"

"Dead serious," Jake said, his eyes darkening a bit, the lightness in his tone shifting.

The door rattled violently as the pounding from the other side intensified. You, Heeseung, and Jake all stiffened, your hearts racing as the room filled with tension. Without warning, the door was kicked open, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang. Two Ghostfaces stormed into the room—one with the bloodied mask and the other with the sad mask. But now, the fight was even. Heeseung and Jake, still wearing their masks, leaped into action.

Chaos erupted instantly.

You stood frozen for a moment, watching as four Ghostfaces, indistinguishable in the frenzy of movement, attacked and dodged each other with precision and fury. Knives clashed, bodies collided, and the room became a whirlwind of violence. The sound of grunts, thuds, and the sharp swish of blades cutting through the air overwhelmed your senses.

Jake, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged at the sad-masked Ghostface, driving him into the wall. The two struggled, their knives clashing as they wrestled for control. Heeseung, on the other side, faced off against the bloodied Ghostface, their movements fast and brutal. You could hear the sound of blades slicing through fabric, followed by the occasional grunt of pain as both sides took hits.

You felt utterly helpless. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed yourself against the farthest wall, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty. Every instinct told you to run, but there was nowhere to go. The only exit was blocked by the chaos unfolding in front of you.

At one point, Heeseung was thrown back, his knife skidding across the floor and stopping near your feet. You gasped, crouching down to grab it, your hands trembling and threw it back to him. As you stood up, you saw Jake take a punch to the gut, causing him to stagger back, his grip on his own knife loosening.

You wanted to help, to do something—anything—but the intensity of the fight made it clear that stepping in could cost you your life. You clutched your knife tightly, your fingers white-knuckled, but your feet refused to move. The sight of the four Ghostfaces, each donning their masks as they fought in a blur of black robes and flashing blades, left you feeling paralyzed with fear.

The sad-masked Ghostface managed to push Jake to the ground and swung his knife down, but Jake rolled out of the way just in time, delivering a swift kick that knocked his attacker back. Heeseung, meanwhile, grappled with the bloodied one, both of them trading blows and slashes, their masks stained with sweat and fury.

The room became smaller with each passing second, the violent dance of the Ghostfaces making it hard to breathe. You clutched your chest, unsure how much longer this battle would last, or if any of you would make it out alive.

A loud crash snapped you back to reality as one of the Ghostfaces—Jake, you realized—was thrown against a dresser, causing it to splinter under the force. The sad-masked Ghostface was relentless, advancing toward Jake with his knife raised, ready to strike again. Heeseung, locked in his own fight, couldn’t break free to help. You were the only one who could stop it.

Your heart pounded as you looked down at the knife in your hand. Could you do it? Could you actually fight back?

With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, ready to make a choice.

As the sad-masked Ghostface raised his knife to strike Jake, your body moved before your mind could catch up. You lunged forward, gripping the knife. Your legs felt weak, and your heart hammered in your chest, but you knew you had to act.

With a scream, you plunged the knife into the side of the sad-masked Ghostface just as his arm came down to strike Jake. The blade sliced into him, and he let out a guttural gasp, his body freezing in place. He staggered back, his knife slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor as he looked down at the wound you had inflicted.

Jake quickly scrambled to his feet, panting, his eyes wide as he took in what had just happened. "Y/N!" he gasped, momentarily shocked by your actions.

The sad-masked Ghostface stumbled back, clutching his side, blood seeping through his robes. His masked face turned toward you, his breathing ragged and uneven.

Before you could react, Heeseung, who had just disarmed the bloodied Ghostface, surged forward, his knife flashing as he delivered a brutal slash across the sad-masked Ghostface's chest. The man collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, his mask tilted to one side as he struggled to breathe.

You stood there, panting, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized what you had done. You had attacked him. You had saved Jake.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The bloodied Ghostface, seeing his partner fall, let out a roar of rage and lunged toward you with reckless fury. Heeseung was there in an instant, blocking his path and shoving him back. The two clashed violently, their movements fast and deadly.

Jake, now on his feet and regaining his composure, grabbed his knife and moved to help Heeseung. Together, they forced the bloodied Ghostface into a corner, their attacks coordinated and relentless. Heeseung landed a powerful punch to the masked figure’s jaw, causing the bloodied Ghostface to stumble.

As the dust settled from the chaotic struggle, Jake and Heeseung wasted no time in pulling the masks off the defeated Ghostfaces. Your breath caught in your throat as their faces were revealed.

The sad-masked Ghostface was none other than the guy you and Heeseung had encountered at the mall—the one who had been so strangely charming yet oddly unsettling.

But it was the second figure that sent shockwaves through your system. Kim Ji Woong, Taehyung’s little brother. You stared, wide-eyed, as the reality of the situation sank in.

“What?” you managed to say, disbelief threading through your voice.

They exchanged tense glances before sad-masked Ghostface stepped forward, a faint smirk crossing his lips. “Myung Jaehyun, pleasure to make an acquaintance,” he said, his tone laced with mockery. He turned to Heeseung, the smile fading. “Your dear stepbrother Heeseung,” he added.

You felt your heart drop as Heeseung’s eyes widened in shock. “Step… brother?” he echoed, the weight of the revelation crashing over him like a tidal wave. He gently pulled off his own mask, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

Jaehyun looked down, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Mom… remarried,” he explained, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions.

Ji Woong, not willing to let the moment linger, huffed in frustration. “Yes, yes, such a nice brotherly reunion… yet you!” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Heeseung. “You killed my brother!”

Heeseung’s expression hardened, his voice devoid of warmth. “Your brother deserved it,” he stated flatly, and the tension in the room skyrocketed.

In an instant, Ji Woong lunged at Heeseung, rage fueling his movements. Heeseung retaliated, the two engaging in a brutal struggle.

“Hey!” Jake shouted, springing into action as he jumped to intercept Ji Woong. The chaos erupted once more, fists flying and bodies colliding. Jaehyun followed suit, rushing at Jake with an intensity that mirrored his companion's fury.

“Y/N! Run!” Jake called out, urgency lacing his voice.

You didn’t hesitate. The instinct to survive kicked in, and you sprinted past the tangled bodies, darting down the stairs and bursting through the door. The cool night air hit your face, but you didn’t stop. You ran, heart pounding, adrenaline fueling your escape as you fled the house.

The sounds of fighting echoed behind you as Jake and Heeseung fought off Ji Woong and Jaehyun. You didn't stop to look back, your body moving on pure instinct as you burst through the front door of the house, desperate to escape the chaos.

The cold night air hit you like a wave as you sprinted across the yard, your feet crunching on the dry leaves.

Behind you, you could hear faint shouts—distant, but still there. It was hard to tell if it was Heeseung or Jake calling out, or the others trying to chase after you. Either way, you kept running.

You stumbled over the uneven forest floor, your mind racing. How had it come to this? Jaehyun, Heeseung’s stepbrother? Ji Woong, Taehyung’s brother? None of it made sense. The weight of it all—of how intertwined everything was—made your head spin.

You stumbled onto the road, your legs shaky from exhaustion, past a gate that hung half-open along the overgrown driveway. The forest loomed around you, thick and oppressive, stretching for miles with no signs of civilization in sight.

Tiredness weighed heavily on your limbs, and before you knew it, you collapsed in the middle of the road. The cool asphalt felt comforting against your skin, but fear crept in as you lay there. Just as you were about to succumb to the darkness of fatigue, two headlights pierced the night, growing brighter as the vehicle approached.

You scrambled to your feet, waving your arms frantically. “Help!” you shouted, desperation clawing at your throat. The car came to a screeching halt, and the door swung open.

“Help me!” you cried, relief flooding your senses as you recognized the figure stepping out of the car. “Taehyun! Please, you gotta help me!” You rushed forward, grasping his hand tightly, your heart racing with hope.

But the words that left his mouth sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Oh, Y/N… if only there was someone that could help you now,” he said, his tone dripping with something sinister. Confusion washed over you, and before you could process anythingl, a sharp pain struck the side of your head.

Everything went black.

In an instant, the world faded away, leaving you engulfed in darkness. Your last conscious thought was of Heeseung and Jake.

Part 4 coming soon

Feel free to reblog and like <3

[bitter-me]

Hello,I am have been reading your work for quite sometime :), I really am loving them so far 😭💗 .I saw that your requests were open, so may I be able to ask for Dazai or Fyodor with male reader who are like Sunday from HSR, and could be in a enemies to lovers type relationship :D, the plot can be upto you :>

A Seraphim or..

Osamu Dazai | M. Reader as Sunday [Honkai Star Rail]

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"Who are you..? An Angel.."

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The Charmony Festival.

A once-in-an-era event held in the Country of Festivities, Penacony.

Members of the five great families, which together make up "The Family" on Penacony. As well as staff members of the Reverie, are united in welcoming the world to their home.

The Oak Family.

The Alfalfa Family.

The Bloodhound Family.

The Iris Family.

The Nightingale Family.

All important figures in Penacony.

But one stood out the most...

The man with a halo and wings. [Name].

The leader of the Oak Family. The organizer of the Charmony Festival and a representative of The Family of Penacony. The most important figure amongst them and the one holding the most power.

Who wouldn't be interested in a man like him?

With a charming smile and a soft voice, paired with his unique appearance... he's like an Angel.. no..

A Seraphim.

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The first time he laid eyes on him was at the Golden Hour. The moment he saw the man himself he thought he saw the heavens itself.

A Seraphim.

He thought.

But upon further observation... Dazai soon found a different answer..

His vibe seems a little.. sinister..

His smile barely even reaches his eyes.

His voice is soft and yet his tone is firm.

Either way, [Name] had caught his interest.

.

.

.

.

.

"Your radiant glow illuminates me! Your voice is as soft as an angel! I can't believe that I've met such an angelic being! Please make me the happiest man and kill me with these holy hands of yours."

What.

What did he just said.

What in Harmony's name did he just say?

[Name] can't help but chuckle as he pulls his hand away from Dazai's hold. What was that? A proposal?

"Aha.. you're quite funny, Mr. Dazai.. but I believe you've drank too many SoulGlad." He replied, trying to keep it casual and professional.

This man, this suicidal prick..

He's all talk and flattery. It never fails to get under his skin with how buddy-buddy he is. They're only acquainted and yet this bandaged man acts as if they're old friends. Does he even know who he's speaking to? He's [Name]! Leader of the Oak Family! The very mention of his name could silence a whole room and this man dared do such things to him!

"Now now~ I only drank a few~" Dazai reassured with a smile on his face. "Don't you want to go back home to heaven with me~?"

"I believe you'll be sending me down to the fiery pit instead of going up."

"Ouch! How cruel! Then how about we go to your manor?"

"Don't make me turn you down twice."

This.. man child.. what does his agency even see in him..

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"Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palm with a hot iron, so he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."

"...What have you done?"

"Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed. I implore THEM to shed THEIR light, and I'll ask you questions on THEIR behalf. Next... you have 113 seconds to prove your innocence and gain my trust."

"And if I refuse to answer?"

"You can try — and we'll see if the Harmony rejects you."

It had finally led to this.

Both of them had taken off their masks. Revealing the true wickedness underneath. The suicidal maniac and the so-called leader of the Family.

Oh how he hated that man.

Acting like a child who believes he could get away with everything. It's time where [Name] to put his foot down and stand his ground. This entitlement will not go unnoticed by him and with THEIR radiant light.. he will find the truth..

And judge him as the Harmony see fit.

"Question: Do you have an ability?"

"Yes."

"What a simple answer. You, too, understand that idle chatter leads only to poverty."

"Did you neutralize your ability when you entered Penacony?"

"No. My ability nullifies others."

He already figured that out.. which is why he's holding this "trial" with THEM. For the power of the Aeon is far more powerful than any ability in the world. "Does the page of the Book you handed over to The Family belong to the agency?"

Honestly, he never would have thought the Armed Detective Agency would use such an item to bargain their way into Penacony. Something as powerful as the Book. A page of the Book.

It's a given why he allowed them to enter the dreamscape when they bargained such an item.

"Yes."

"Is the Page of the Book in this room right now?"

"Yes."

"Is your memory free from any kind of tampering or deletion, encompassing but not restricted to the techniques of the Garden of Recollection?"

"Yes."

"Are you a former executive from Port Mafia?"

[Name] continues to ruthlessly question him without missing a beat. Dazai furrowed his eyebrows at the question. Something that doesn't make sense. How could [Name] know such things? "Yes. You even know about that?"

"Does your agency and the Port Mafia have any ability to read, tamper with, or manipulate one's own or another's mind?"

"No. Does it matter?"

"Do you love your family more than yourself?"

Okay where is he getting at here... the questions are getting more and more personal. "Yes."

"...Do you hate and wish to destroy this world with your own hands?" [Name]'s expression turned serious as he narrowed his eyes, his perpetual smile seemed to widen slightly. "...I don't know."

"Interesting. Now, the final question..." [Name] breath out, putting his hands behind his back. "Can you swear that at this very moment, the page of the Book is safe and sound in this box?"

Dazai seems to hesitate a little, thinking of a way to get around this. He always has a plan after all. "...Of course."

[Name] hums as his smile turns a little more sincere. "Looks like we can get an answer."

"Open it, Mr. Dazai... It's your last chance to defend your honor."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Aren't you happy, Mr. Dazai? You'll finally get your wish in seventeen system hours, the end that you desire so much. Off you go, Mr. Dazai. You are free. I will wait here for your good news."

"Maybe one day.. no.."

"In another universe..."

"I can learn how to love you too.."

[ddollfface]

Hello, first of all I really appreciate your blog. I love to read your story's, they are incredible C:

Secondly, I wanted to take a request for a yandere baki? Like, he falls for a classmate who is really shy and insecure but she secretly trains to become more confident and stronger? Maybe Baki wants to help her (or not depends on how you think yandere baki would be) and also protect her?

Sorry if my request is a little bit confusing ^^" If it's too random for you, you can just write general yandere baki headcanons :") I hope you have a nice day and thank you in advance :D<3

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Trigger Warnings; Bad writing, she/her pronouns, possessive thoughts, not really yandere, reader is depicted as really socially awkward and clumsy, uhhh Kozue doesn't exist in this universe ig (I'm sorry bbg) It's no problem, nonny! I love it when ya'll give me random scenarios lol. Though I write really slowly, so sorry that it's been so long... Enjoy and give me any feedback! I'm still trying to tweak Baki's character profile!

“C’mon, do one more. You got this,” 

You panted, stretching your muscles to the extent you could, bringing your chin above the bar, trying to focus on the searing stretch in your muscles, and using it to motivate you as you lifted yourself up once more. Your thighs were clenched, trying to fight gravity, and get twenty pull-ups, surprising yourself when your head gets above the bar. 

Seventeen… that’s Baki’s age, you think with a small smile gracing your face as you go for another one, only to whine, wincing as your arms refuse to move. Just as you’re about to drop, you feel your classmate, who you’re too nervous to call a friend, hands grab your waist, helping you down from the pull-up bar. His hands cupped your waist, practically carrying your weight in his hands, catching you off-guard.

“I-thank you, Baki,” You mumbled, glancing over your shoulder as he set you on the ground, and smiling. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest, feeling accomplished at how many pull-ups you did. Only just a month ago, you couldn’t even hang from the bar without getting sore, but with Baki’s help, you’ve improved so much! It makes you giddy as you think of your progress, of how far you’ve come, and how much stronger you’ll be in the future. It gives you a surge of confidence whenever you find yourself exerting some of your newfound strength, beginning to love yourself a little more. 

“No problemo,” Baki shrugs, trying to remain lax, ignoring the throbbing of his heart. He got to touch you, place his hands on your waist, and carry your weight. God, you’re so pretty, even when you’re all sweaty. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy (he is). Your presence feels like a punch to the gut, giving him a newfound energy, the same feeling he chases when he fights. His heart pumping blood throughout his body, forcing it through his veins as his brain races with thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts. He can almost feel his hands shake, practically begging his conscience for a chance to grab, hold, and smother you with affection, to pepper kisses all over your face, and praise your body in a way you deserve. 

He can’t even describe the surge of joy he got when you asked him for help, looking at him… well you didn’t look at him, preferring the ground’s gaze whenever you talk to him, but that didn’t matter too much. Your words were far more important. The moment your soft voice shyly asked for him to train you, to help you out because you wanted to be better, to be more confident. 

And while Baki loved you for who you were and the way you were he understood. He understood wanting to be better, to strive for more and more until your nails have gone raw and bloody, unable to claw away. He understands the feeling of not being where you want to be, of not being stronger, or accomplishing more. 

Though you both have different reasons for training, he understands the core values of it. You’re training to help build confidence and find value in yourself, while Baki does it because it’s a staple in his life, the only consistent pillar throughout his short years. But you both share the determination and though you likely will never be as strong as him, which is completely okay and likely how he’d prefer it, he admires how you had the confidence to approach him, asking him for help with something so personal.

Of course, he said yes. What kind of man would he be if he denied you help? Especially when you asked so sweetly? He still remembers how his cheeks grew warm and how he could hear his heart thud against his ribs at the idea of watching you work out. And though, Baki will never admit to it… you’re just so pretty, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You’re so soft, so kind, and just so cute. There’s no way he can’t gawk, respectfully, whenever he sees you squat, or how you smile whenever you complete a set, looking at him with amazement. Sometimes you’ll even hug him! And, honestly, he could die a happy man!

He tries his hardest, never wanting to make you uncomfortable, keeping your best interests in mind, and that’s why he absolutely refuses to let you work out in public. Nope, nope, nope, that’s not going to happen. Sure, you two can go on a run together, but he makes sure to give you one of his athletic zip-ups, not wanting guys to gawk at you, knowing that they will. 

It doesn’t matter that you’re only sixteen, he knows how men think, how they reduce you to your body. You’re so much more than that, and that’s why his blood boiled when he saw a guy let his eyes trail across your body as you did some push-ups. Yeah, no, you’re never going to a public gym again, that was the first and last time he’d ever let you do that. 

And if you were to ask, he’ll just say that you can’t even imagine the amount of sweat and bacteria on those machines. Can’t you imagine how many sweaty, grubby hands have touched those dumbbells? Or how many people have sat on that bench? Yeah, you can’t give him a number, and after that, you refused to touch your face without washing your hands and wiping away any grime from your face with a wet wipe, even upping your skincare a little.

Don’t get it wrong, you’re not a germaphobe or anything, but you had to agree with Baki, though you weren’t going to challenge him either way. You had noticed the gleam in his eyes as he pulled you up and off the floor, stopping you in the middle of your rep. Of course, you pouted a little, seeing as you were about to do ten push-ups! But you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stir any trouble, so you just kept your head down as Baki said you guys were going to end early. 

You didn’t want to, but you trusted Baki, and you weren’t going to say no when he looked so sure of himself. You hadn’t noticed the way his eyes seemingly darkened when he walked behind you, noticing how your leggings hugged you too tightly, nor did you seem to care when he handed you a jacket, saying you looked a little cold. If anything, you thought it was extremely sweet, and it made your cheeks grow warm, and your stomach does flips. 

“Well, it’s getting pretty late; you want me to take you home?” Baki’s voice draws you out of your little trip down memory lane, causing you to look up from your hands, which you were probably staring at for an embarrassing amount of time. With a small smile, you nod your head, turning to face Baki, and wiping some sweat from your brow. 

“Um, sure! That sounds like a plan-” You cut yourself off with an awkward chuckle, internally cursing yourself for being such a dork. I mean, what could Baki, probably the strongest man in the world, be thinking of you? He probably thinks you're super duper weird and that you sweat too much, oh God. What if you smell! 

Slowly losing yourself in your thoughts, Baki quirked a brow, noticing that you seemingly were spacing out, so, like any normal person who definitely hasn’t been daydreaming about his moment since he first met you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and tilts his head, “*Hey, are you good? You’re not lightheaded or anything, right? That wouldn’t be too good, yeah?*”

Baki had a small, reassuring smile on his lips, and the small mole on his upper lip stretched slightly, catching your attention. Feeling your cheeks heat up, your brain went into override, becoming overwhelmed with how close Baki was. You could see all the pores in his skin, and you could feel him too. His palm was oddly warm, maybe a little sweaty, but that was probably just you… ew. His hand cupped your shoulder, thumb drumming against your colder skin softly as he awaited your response, but you just looked at him with parted lips, eyes wide, and mind blank. 

You definitely looked like an idiot, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, feeling a little awestruck. Let’s just say that conversations have really never been your thing, especially when they’re cute guys without a shirt. Trying your best, you succeeded in keeping your eyes locked on his face, not letting them linger and drift down to his neck, where his SCM muscle flowed down to his clavicle and mended with the infrahyoid muscle group, only for his trapezius muscle to lay over his shoulder blade and peak from his back. His pectoralis majors were bulging against his sternum, making him seem more like a bodybuilder than a normal, teenage boy, not even to mention his serratus anterior, which was clearly defined and wrapped around his sides-

“Geez, man, you’re such a creep, staring at my muscles,” Baki chuckled, hiding how giddy he felt with your eyes on him, him, him.  His hand moved from your shoulder to your head, ruffling your hair with a cheeky grin as he tilted his head teasingly, “Is that a little drool I see there?” The hand on your head moved to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip, as if there were really drool (there wasn’t, he just wanted to make you flustered). His calloused fingers teased your cheek, almost covering your whole face, and you thought you might just die. 

“Pphha-Oh, my God! I’m so, so sorry, Baki! That was so weird-” You fumbled over yourself, practically jumping away from his hand with a warm face. Your lips were trembling slightly, your nerves dripping through your veins as you cracked your knuckles, unsure of what to do with yourself as you felt your blood turn into molten lava. Standing with your arms straight and hands by your side, you quickly maneuvered to get your stuff, quickly remembering what the conversation was. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, your legs were unstable as you steadied yourself and glanced around Baki’s home, not wanting to come anywhere near his gaze. 

“Well, anyways-I, um… I think I should go, um, home.” I spoke unceremoniously, ending your words with an out-of-place cough, only fueling Baki’s amusement as he looked you up and down. You were just so cute. He could just eat you up. His syrupy brown eyes swirled with amusement, taking in your nervous form. He really is obsessed, isn’t he?

He can’t get enough of your flustered smile, the way your lips quirk and tremble as you let meaningless words slip from your lips. Your eyes always got so scattered, flickering across whatever room, just to avoid his gaze. Although he’d love for you to get more comfortable, to just relax around him, he does enjoy these moments where you slur your speech and wave your hands around; it’s comforting in a sense. Deciding not to push any further, knowing your heart would probably thump out of your chest, he shrugs his shoulders and gives your bicep a small tap, “Sure thing, I’ll let you off this time.”

His voice was soft and playful as to coax you out of being so nervous. You just smile stiffly, feeling your heart thump, thump, thump, going crazy in your ribcage as you try to cool your tense figure, to slow the blood flooding in your ears. Giving him a nervous, wonky smile, you shrug your bag further up your shoulders, needing to do anything to distract you from the situation at hand. Baki was just so cool, and everything about him was amazing, but you were just… you. For God’s sake! Baki is probably the strongest man in the world, for all you know! And he’s training you of all people? He must be an angel or something… 

That’s what you think. You don’t know the gleam that flickers through his eyes whenever you turn away, the pure, utterless obsession that flows through his veins. Though Baki wouldn’t consider himself to be a jealous man, by any means, he can’t help but worry about you. You also don’t know the amount of men he’s dealt with through the school year; the amount of people he’s had to… steer away from you, just to keep you safe. But that’s good. You don’t need to know, ever. 

And you still don’t know as you walk side-by-side through the residential neighborhood, Baki holding your bag, of course. He always insists that he helps you out, seeing as you must be oh so tired from your workout, so just let him help you out, yeah?

To you, it was a smooth night, although a little awkward and embarrassing, it was nice. There was a soft breeze, so it was pleasing on the back of your neck, and you could feel your hair tussle and flow. Humming under your breath, you glance around the neighborhood you know like the back of your hand, and observe the different houses. Many were more 1970s-stylized architecture, but it was pretty nonetheless. They all had dark, wooden frames and sloped roofs, guarded by flimsy, wooden fences. With your eyes locked onto your surroundings, you lost track of how long you’d been walking until Baki suddenly stopped, nudging you for your attention. 

“Oh, thanks for walking me home, Baki…” You chuckle, catching yourself before you could make you look like more of an airhead. Scratching your cheek, you turned your back, standing in front of the gate that led to your small home, where your parents were probably snooping out the window to see what cute boy had brought you home…

“Nah, we’re chillin’. I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know how it is.” He shrugged, giving you a small, endearing smile before shoving his hands into his jean pockets, glancing at the ground before looking back at you. Giggling sheepishly, you messed with the hem of your shirt, before clearing your throat and straightening your posture. The air was oddly relaxing, though still a little stiff.

“Yeah, but you really didn’t need to, especially since you’re carrying my bag, too!” You sighed dramatically, pursing your lips slightly as you tried to make the mood a little lighter, more for yourself than Baki. He chuckled, rolling his eyes a little with some sass, handing you your bag as you motioned for it. 

“Geez, what d’ya think of me? I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I let you walk out here by yourself.” Baki flicked your forehead with a quirked brow, continuing, “But really don’t mention it. You’re like my best friend, practically my responsibility.” He added with a nonchalant grin. 

Nodding your head with a smile, trying to ignore the growing warmth on the back of your neck. God, talking to Baki was so easy, even if you fumbled your words an embarrassing amount of times, and you couldn’t help but feel your brain speed up, racing a million miles per hour. Subconsciously, your eyes kept lingering, down, down, down toward his lips, watching them move as he spoke. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, there was a tug on your heart, feeling a pull toward Baki, and he felt it, too. 

Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Oh, c’mon! Just do it! You hyped yourself up, adjusting your duffle bag on your shoulder as I leaned your weight onto one foot to another, slightly nudging yourself closer to Baki. Your heart was pounding, ringing in your ears as you kept your eyes nervously locked on his face. Baki had continued talking, rambling off about some fight he had recently. Of course, you loved hearing Baki talk, but you couldn’t think straight, hyper-fixating on this inner turmoil that took over your thoughts. Though Baki had noticed your fidgeting and shift in behavior, he brushed it off as you just being antsy to go to sleep. Wait; why are you so close?

And just like that your lips brushed against his cheek, only there for half a second that Baki thought that he had imagined it. A slip of electricity had shot through both of you, a lingering warmth on his cheek as Baki stared at you with wide eyes. You just kissed him! Baki’s brain went into overload, standing there with his lips parted like a fish. Of course, your face had blossomed with an overwhelming amount of warmth, so hot that even Baki could feel it radiate off of you. Without a second thought, you rushed into your home, though not without running into the half-opened gate and tripping up the steps. 

Baki hadn’t even noticed your clumsy movements, far too focused on the warmth that swelled under his skin, a feeling he wasn’t used to. The tips of his fingers were pulsing, feeling static as he urged himself to do something, but his mind was caught up on what he felt. Everything was upside down, his world spinning, and the rhythm of his heart kept him in a jumble. It felt like his brain was empty but swirling with more thoughts than it should. Your lips felt oh so soft, and he couldn’t forget; he didn’t want to forget. 

“You’re just too much.” He mumbled under his breath, a newfound determination blossomed in his heart, and a lovesick gleam in his brown eyes. You just confirmed everything he’s ever wanted and dreamed of; you were his. You want to be his. That just means that you don’t need them either, all you need is him, and he’s sure you wouldn’t mind just staying at his place, right? You’re practically dating now, and it’s only right that you live together; that’s what couples do, right? 

As he walked away, steps a little off-center, a plan formed in his head, obsessive delusions fueling it. With just one, small kiss, you had decided your fate. No longer could you get off as just being his “best friend”, no. You were his lover now, his future wife. Though you didn’t seem to fully grasp that, Baki’s glad to give a helping hand.

[serawritesthings]

AS FAR AS DREAMS GO

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x fem! reader Summary | While Arthur found sanction in his dreams, you would fret about them every night. While he longed for the sweet caress of your hands, you were unknowing, fooled by his stoic facade as your dreams only brought you nightmares. Tags |  Angsty, Arthur Morgan pining for the reader, hinting at smut, intimacy, two idiots clearly in love, some sadness ensues Word Count | 10.3k A/N | Hello, lovelies! It's my second-ever fanfic; I hope you like it! Also, I got carried away, so it’s quite long (sorry)… It's loosely based on the mission with Uncle when you rob a wagon, but I have my spin on it. It’ll work more with the story this way. If you want, it can fit in with my recent fanfic about Arthur, but maybe set earlier in their “relationship.” ;D THANKS FOR READING!♡ Part two

Arthur felt you in his sleep last night. 

He remembered the caress of your fingers on his icy skin, leaving scorching traces of blazing fire in its wake as your hearts collided and molded into his deepest longing. Like a strange mirror, it portrayed you as you always were: tender and loving, fiery but forgiving. But it wasn’t you; instead, it was a thought of you. Like when walking down the street and catching a glance of a person that seemed familiar, but with another look, was someone else entirely. Only in his dream-filled sleep could he allow himself the sweet torture of your presence, for in those moments, he didn’t have to think of the consequences his thoughts would bring. His dreams of you overtook his mind, whether he was willing or not. For in his mind, you had carved a path so profound that it would be etched into his senses until his last breath, clouding his sanity, never again being able to differentiate dreams from reality.

Oh, how you held him in your embrace. It made him long for the sun to disappear under the horizon once more when the warm springs of light found him in the chilly dawn. He could still feel traces of your touch in the short period between sleep and consciousness. For a brief moment, it made him question whether it was a dream or if his deepest desire had come true. You were his.

But he would wake up and find that the warmth he held in his hands had dissipated, like hot ash falling between his fingers, making Arthur attempt to dig up what remained of you from the ground. He was left aching with no relief, cold and shuddering in the chilly morning, standing over the remains of your ghost. It was like his heart had been burned with it, only coming alive once more when you returned to him at midnight.

But for you, dreams had trouble finding you at night, if they even found you at all. You could never escape reality to find sanction in the warm blanket of imagination. When dreams did reach you, memories replaced fantasy and washed over like cold, freezing water. You would fret and worry, tossing around wishing you could melt into the sheets and float to where you could become someone else. There was a time when the dreams would bring you solace, whether it was a conjecture of old memories or what your younger self would conjure up. But that was a long time ago, and you find that the older you get, those dreams drift further away. So, you had nowhere to escape, nothing to ease the hardship that daytime brought. So, sleeping is just a blink of an eye nowadays to make the night pass faster.

After a sleepless night, you sat by a tree overlooking the vast landscape. It’s quiet between the trees this morning. It brought a sense of calm to the otherwise quite hectic place. Although chilly, the wind carried a frisk waft, clearing your head. You enjoyed these mornings and often found yourself awake before the others. It’s a habit you picked up through the years, though a younger you would complain about having to rise that early in the morning. It felt like the world was entirely your own. It is even calmer in times like this, where the residents consist mainly of women when the men are out. It brought a sense of comfort to you, for they were the ones that had been kind and welcoming to you. Unfortunately, your time alone didn’t last long, for you have learned that people rose relatively early here. But the time you did get for yourself gave you a chance to ponder the time that had passed up until now.

Sean, a peculiar man, had recently been brought back from being held captive by bounty hunters soon to be transported up the Upper Montana River to a federal prison. You had immensely worried for him, finding his presence over the last few months to lighten your sometimes rather gloomy mood with his ridiculous shenanigans. Some had been unsure if going back for him posed as a good idea, but the thought of leaving him behind saddened you and many others. Somehow, you had managed to convince Arthur to lend a hand, with considerable help from Javier You knew Arthur cared for Sean, even though he’d probably rather die before admitting it.

When you first got wrapped up with these people, you admit that Arthur scared the living daylight out of you. There was a certain air around him that exuded strength and authority, never stopping short of resorting to violence. You were no stranger to what kind of man he was, what they were; neither were you of their business, but you were apprehensive of them more often than not. The womenfolk had told you countless times that Arthur could be immensely ruthless when needed and had done things that would leave your blood running cold. And you didn’t doubt them. Behind those calculating eyes and quiet demeanor lay a long life of violence and hardship. You were sure of it.

That’s why you felt stuck when it came to him. Despite all this, he was a kind man. However, he didn’t speak much when it concerned you. More so, he worked hard, and you rarely spotted him in camp. Freezing your guts out in those mountains was the longest time you had seen his face consistently. You couldn’t do more than respect him, and although apprehensive around him, you had found yourself doing it less because of his dangerous aura and more because he made chills run down your back and a warmth spread in your stomach like wildfire when he set his eyes on you. It wasn’t a fire that spread fast, destroying everything in its path and bringing misery. Instead, a fire dispersed like slow poison, mingling with your blood as it flowed through your body, claiming you bit by bit until you surrendered to its ever-so-prolonged heat.

“I heard you begged for the boys to come get me!” Time had flown by quickly, and soon, you heard the clanking of pots and the sound of steel against the wood. Sean had suddenly spoke up as he neared you, his Irish accent lacing his words heavily. Although you had missed him and didn’t want to leave him to an insufferable fate, you hadn’t forgotten his teasing. He knew very well he was exaggerating, but he wouldn’t let go of the chance to bury you in his flamboyant personality.

“That’s quite the exaggeration, Sean.” A small smile spread on your lips. “Don’t make me regret standing in favor of your return.” A snort left the red-headed man at your words. Pursing your lips, you put your gaze on him as he stood beside your seated form with his arms crossed, gazing out onto the open landscape of Horseshoe Overlook.

“Ah, how I missed ya big words and harmless threats.” You could hear a few snickers at his statement from the people gathering around the campfire. A blush covered your cheeks. You had a reputation for sounding smart sometimes, and people did not stop at anything to tease you, especially the man in front of you.

 “Did ya miss me?” A cheeky grin grew on his punchable face as he raised his eyebrows, expectantly leaning closer to you.

A scoff left your lips, but you didn’t have time to answer him as the sound of hooves drew near. A certain dread always filled you at the sound. Even though you knew it most likely was someone returning to camp, you could never be too sure what state they would be in. You often worked alongside Ms. Grimshaw to help when someone got hurt, having extensive knowledge of tending to wounds and other bodily harm. It worried you, for the possibility of not being able to help someone would someday appear. Like that poor man, Davey. Luckily, you had managed to take care of Marston well enough. But he did look awful these days with that scar adorning his face; there was no denying that.

You and Sean looked up as the horses raced through the path among the trees that led to your whereabouts. You could see Dutch among them, with Arthur and Hosea. Scowls were apparent on their faces as their loud voices broke the solitude in the air, seeming to argue viciously about something.

“What’s that about?” You questioned the man beside you. “God knows, but I’d stay outta it if I were you.” He gave you a knowing look and slouched away to bother someone else. Your curiosity was piqued, but you let it be for now, raising to help Mary-Beth wash some foul shirts she was struggling with—damned Reverend.

The day continued, mindless chatter filling the space between you and the girls as you worked under Ms. Grimshaw’s sharp, watchful eyes. She had been in a terrible mood today, so her reign was relentless.  

“Do you think she would be mad if we threw the clothes from the cliff edge?” A grumpy Tilly spoke up, her hands relentless as she scrubbed the fabric that never seemed to get cleaner. Sadly, it only became filthier the more she worked on it. Karen laughed as she raised her eyebrows, a mocking expression on her face. “Oh no, that won’t do for great Ms. Grimshaw. She would probably throw you right along with it.” Their laughter cut through the air, contagious as you smiled at their exchange, glancing up to see if Ms. Grimshaw had her eyes on you. But instead, your eyes found a pair of blue ones staring at you when you looked up—the brief moment left you unsure where to put your gaze after the contact broke. 

You cleared your throat as you spoke quietly. “Grimshaw means well.” They groaned at you, rolling their eyes. “Sure, Miss Righteous.” They laughed again as you joined them. Before you could hinder yourself, your eyes gazed up at Arthur again, finding him staring at you again; a particular fervency lay deep within them. However, he directed his eyes away from you hastily, like you caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. Seemingly tense, the man grabs a match from his pocket, lighting its phosphorus tip from his booth’s worn leather soles. When he took a drag, he peeked at you again, his head bowed, hiding under his worn hat. 

Dutch and Hosea were in a heated discussion, with Arthur listening in languidly. It probably related to what had transpired before they returned to camp. Although more collected now, there was still a tension in the air. By your observations, they were the “three main men” around here. They had been holding together most of their lives, naturally giving them authority over the gang. When they talked, you listened. Simple as that.

You touched your face discreetly, wondering if you had gotten soot from tending the fire on your cheeks again. What else could be the reason for Arthur’s stare? How embarrassing that would be. He made you somewhat uncertain already; you couldn’t possibly handle his mocking adding to that.

“I wonder what they’re talking about?” The question you asked left the girls perking their heads up and gazing at you before following your gaze, looking at the men arguing. “Yeah, it seems pretty serious,” Mary-Beth said, curious about their exchange. They had been going at it for quite a while now as evening drew closer. You observed them with intrigue. That’s when Hosea’s eyes planted on you, beckoning you over with his finger. He looked cunning as he settled leisurely in his chair, content. You gazed questingly at the girls as they shrugged their shoulders, looking as confused as you.

Dusting off your skirt, you rose from the small barrel you used as a makeshift chair and approached the men. You gave them an unsure smile, still confused, wondering what they could want to bring you into their apparent disagreement. 

“Well, we have a perfect actress with us, gentlemen. I’m sure she could charm our seemingly formidable friends.” Hosea patted your arms as your feet shifted under you when he spoke up. What could they possibly be talking about? Dutch was gazing at you indescribably as Arthur stared at the table. His arms crossed, not meeting your gaze.

“Well, her damsel in distress act has saved us before.” A low chuckle left Dutch as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table.

“May I ask what you’re talking about?” As the question left you, you could see Arthur raise his head to watch you. His expression was blank, but his eyes seemed sullen, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he took a drag. 

“Uncle’s received a tip of a supply wagon passing through carrying a payroll, lookin’ to be unguarded. They want you to help us.” His voice was quiet as he observed you, his accent thick. You had helped them on some jobs before, although only smaller ones since you weren’t as acquainted with the work as the others. You mainly had accompanied Hosea on his schemes, finding that both of you had quite the same proficiency in depicting a role. Although you had taken up some theatrics when you were a small child, you had never imagined you would use them to deceive people. You found Hosea to be a spiritful figure despite his age. When thinking about it, he reminded you immensely of your father. He was too stubborn to let himself grow old, and his spark for living and refusal to take on the habits of an older man made him seem immortal to you. But he wasn’t, which became evident to you the older you had gotten.

“Of course, if I can be of help.” You offered them a small smile, surprised they decided on you, not someone else. It didn’t seem scary for you; you would, of course, be accompanied. And they knew what they were doing, which had become apparent to you since they always managed to get out of trouble. Compared to some of the things they did, stealing from a wagon seemed mild. And with Arthur accompanying, you knew you would feel completely safe.

“S’not a good idea.” The words that left Arthur made you furrow your brows. What could be the reason for his doubt? Some parts of you understood that you might not be as proficient as the other women, but as you mentioned, playing the damsel in distress was right up your alley. And you already felt as if you were a burden around here.

He avoided your offended look as he continued, pointing his finger at Hosea. “I ain’t lettin’ h-anyone get hurt just cause Uncle got told a tip from some sad, half-witted lowlife! Now, I ain’t against looking up the lead, but we handle it without the theatrics an’ all, Hosea.” 

You were about to speak up, but Dutch did before you could. “It would give you the advantage to have someone stop the wagon; that way, you have the man unguarded and on the ground.” He gave you a look-over. You leaned slightly away from his calculating gaze, his squinting eyes examining you.

 “Yeah, that’ll do; let Uncle prove his worth this time. Bring Bill and Charles with ya.” With that said, he stood up from his chair and nodded at you with a beaming grin, and sauntered off. Wonder what Molly saw in him. Often, you found him to lean towards arrogancy, the way he let everyone else do his dirty work. But they all seemed to listen to him, which meant what he did gave some positive outcome. 

“Trust me, Arthur, she’ll do good. And she might make up for your dumbness.” As Hosea’s chuckling figure slowly disappeared, you gazed curiously at Arthur, who was scoffing, staring after the man. 

“I know how to handle myself, Arthur. And I know you know that too.”

“Sure.” He dragged out the word, voice mirroring his now grumpy mood.

“So?” You raised your eyebrows. He gave you a questioning look. “What’s the matter?” You asked. 

He let out a long breath. “It ain’t safe. A random tip could be risky. It probably means someone else heard ’bout it, too, if the man was willing to give up the information. Likewise, it could be a setup. We don’t know, do we?” You leaned on the table before him, placing your hand to stead his bouncing knee. You knew what he meant. But every mission was risky, especially these days when you had law coming at you from what appeared to be every direction. Despite this, you had to do it to survive, and you wanted to show them you were capable.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out.” Your voice was mild, an undertone of understanding lacing your words. Even if it were Uncle’s idea, it would fall on Arthur either way if things went wrong, as it always did. And you knew he cared, even though he never showed it. Or think he didn’t show it.

He was about to speak, but a loud voice broke through your conversation. “Gotten over me that fast, has she? Already moving on to the gang’s grouch? I’m hurt. Here I walked around thinkin’ you missed me!” You gave Arthur a last look, squeezing his knee to gaze at Sean as he dramatically held his hands to his heart. Laughing at his antics, you stood up. “I’m not sure anyone missed you when you were gone, right Arthur?” You strolled off with the Irish man following you, not noticing the wistful, prolonged stare the blue-eyed man had set on you since you touched his knee with your delicate hand, the feeling of your skin leaving a fire trail he couldn’t douse.

-

“That’s it, Ada.” The grey coat of the Andulasian was silky under your palm as you graced her sun-warmed coat, giving her a carrot you stole from Pearson’s wagon as you distracted him with your mindless chatter the following evening. Her ears perked up at your soft voice, munching. She nickered contentedly as her mane blew under the frisk breeze that wafted around you.

“You know, you should’ve settled for a faster horse instead of an Andalusian. She’ll slow you down.” A gruff voice broke out in the otherwise calm spot as the sound of spurs clanking was accompanied by heavy footsteps. You looked up at the man, noting how he leaned lazily against the empty hitching post and put his hands on his belt. It surprised you, it did. He didn’t usually instigate a conversation with you.

“She’s fast enough, my Ada. And she’s family now, so.” You voiced your thoughts softly, hearing his statement from many others when Arthur, Dutch, and Micha returned to the desolated mining town with two horses and a crying Sadie up in Colter. The horse piqued your interest when you set your eyes on her, and Arthur kindly let you keep her for the time being, planning on selling her when they got the chance. Your disagreement was apparent, and not putting up much of a fight; he let you keep her. Hosea, too, opposed it when he saw the mare, but your stubbornness made him laugh. I’ll let you figure it out on your own then, he had told you.

“Well, at least we’ll know you’re safe if you get attacked by a snake.” A low chuckle left Arthur, still finding you’re choice of a companion foolish. 

“Oh, are you making jokes now?” You looked at him as he straightened and strode towards you. “Cause if you are, it’s not very funny.” You backed away slightly, not used to him being so close. He put his gloved hand on Ada’s soft coat and patted her softly. A waft of smoke reached your nose as he stood next to you, coupled with the smell of a man who did hard labor. But amidst that, there was something else, something warmer and manlier. “Well, she’s real pretty, that’s for sure.” His gaze went down to you before he directed his gaze, fastening the tie strap you didn’t secure well enough.

You rarely saw Arthur with his hat off, his hair usually peaking out from under the well-worn leather. But he didn’t wear it this morning, and you wondered why. It blew softly in the wind, a slight beard adorning his face. It fit him well, adding to his roguish appearance. He was pretty handsome.

You didn’t realize you were observing him as he focused on your not-so-good job putting on the saddle. He didn’t seem as on edge as usual, the constant frown gone and replaced with a serene expression. Arthur didn’t look as frightening this way when he was relaxed, although his advantage in height and bulky form made up for it. 

“Be careful today, yeah?” He gave you a curt nod when you replied that you would, walking over to his horse. You saw Charles walking in your direction, greeting you with a smile when he got close. 

“We should head off as soon as possible; I’m worried we might miss the wagon.” His voice was calm, as it tended to be often. Sometimes, it felt like Charles was a shadow as he kept quiet, primarily to himself. He rarely got into trouble and handled things with a clear mind. You could but only like him, finding his solitude comforting and much like your own. 

When Bill and Uncle appeared, you hoisted yourself into the saddle, giving Ada a soft pat before setting her in motion. Uncle had told you it was just up the road from camp, near the crossroads where an old, ruined church remained. “You ride first and hitch up the horse in the trees behind the church. We will stop near the crossroads to look for the wagon passing through as you get them to stop and get down on the ground.” Arthur said calmly, pointedly looking at you. 

As you rode off, Arthur stared after you as you disappeared between the trees. The worry had settled in his stomach when Hosea brought up the idea for you to tag along. He wasn’t opposed to you doing your share in the gang, but bringing you on such a spontaneous mission made him uneasy.

“She’ll be fine, Arthur, and we’ll have our eyes on her the whole time.” Charles’s hushed voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he secured his gun on the saddle. Even though Charles seemed calm, a slight worry still tainted his words. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” 

“I understand.” They sat in their saddles, heading out after Uncle’s lead. 

“You know, after this, you will realize how much I do for this gang. Looking up this lead has not been an easy feat, gentlemen.” He looked proud in his seat, bringing his hands up like he already had secured the money. “Sure, Uncle, drinking and talking to some bum who just might be lying to you is exactly what this gang needs right now.” Uncle just scoffed at Arthur. 

“You know, you should be nicer to me, Arthur, and you will be after you realize this will bring us a well-deserved fortune.”

“Yeah? And what are you going to spend it on? More booze?”

-

The church where you said goodbye to Ada was no short of run-down. Missing planks, bottles with an unnamed liquid inside, and cigarettes everywhere made you wonder what kind of people sought shelter here. You didn’t have trouble finding it because it wasn’t too far from camp like you were told. Trying not to think about leaving Ada in such an environment, you wandered towards the road you were told they would pass through. 

‘

You hid behind a tree, shielding you from anyone coming down the path. You hoped Uncle was correct; otherwise, things could go south fast. No stranger would let a hurt woman linger on the road; likewise, they wouldn’t let her stumble to the seat with a hurt leg, meaning you would get the driver on the ground. Simple but effective. You only hoped Uncle had been correct, that this would be easy. 

Taking Karen’s advice to loosen a few buttons on your shirt, you revealed some of your cleavage. Make him more willing, quoting her words. The skin now exposed glows in the sunlight from the light layer of sweat coating your skin from the heat. You smile to yourself. This’ll do just fine. You run your hands on the ground to dirty up your skirt like you had been crawling in the dirt. You didn’t want to think about how hard it would be to get it out of the fabric since you likely had to clean it.

Peaking up from the tree, you could spot Arthur, Uncle, Bill, and Charles from a distance, gazing upon your spot as masks adorned their faces. Who were they trying to fool? They looked ominous where they sat on their horses. God, if the driver got the slightest look at them, he would run the other way, and the operation would be over. You felt your hands grow clammy at the suspense as your shoulders tensed, sitting on the ground as you leaned against the tree. 

You took your face in your hands, massaging your temple. “Okay, wagon approaches; I frantically run out from the woods, screaming at the driver to help. He stops and steps down on the ground to ask me what’s going on, hopefully worried. I tell him I’m getting chased by a maniac, and the others will handle the rest.” You breathed out as your heart beat wildly, voicing your plan aloud. “Easy peasy, right?”

That’s when you heard it, the crunch of the wheels rolling in the ground in the distance growing louder. Taking a deep breath, you ruffled your hair slightly and leaped out from the tree, running towards the road like satan himself was after you.

“Mister, please!” Your voice shrieked out, startling the man. With an exasperated expression, you stumbled down after tripping on your skirt, getting dirtier from the mud covering the path. Holding your hand on your leg, you gazed up at the men above you who looked at you alarmed. His face was adorned with small eyes and wrinkles that depicted his old age as he had to squint to see you. It made you question why such an old man drove a fortune alone but pushed the thoughts away. “You have to help me!”

“Miss, what’s happened to ya?” Immediately, he slowed the horses, stepping down from the wagon to inspect the predicament before him. He looked friendly, just like his tone was kind, and worry filled his eyes as he jogged towards you. Kind, but foolish.

“Some men trailed me, oh some god-awful men trailed me, and when I cut through the woods with my horse, she freaked out and bucked me off!” Panic settled in your voice as you looked pleadingly at the man holding your shoulder. “Please, mister, my leg hurts awfully bad; I think it’s broken.” Tears filled your voice, choking up the words leaving your mouth. His hands found your shoulders as he kneeled. “Come here, Miss. We’ll get you home, yeah?” You nodded at him with pleading eyes.

The air around you was calm, and the wind blew softly, contrasting your shrill voice in the early morning as he helped you stand up. With your weight on his shoulders, he didn’t even have the time to turn around before the cold metal of a pistol met the back of his head.

The pistol cocked. Frozen beside you, the hands supporting you grew still as the blood on his face drained, eyes staring into yours like he could see Arthur behind him in the reflection of your eyes.

“Let’s not do that. Why don’t you step away from the woman and throw your gun on the ground?” Arthur’s cold but calm demeanor frightened even you, looking different from the man you were used to. “Real slow now.” His eyes found yours, staring from under his hat as he spoke. A chill went down your spine, now understanding why he had a reputation for coming off as frightening. Behind him, Charles was rummaging through the wagon as Uncle and Bill stood behind him on their horses, acting as lookouts as their rifles were pointed at the man beside you. 

“Listen, I work for Kerosene and Tar, Leviticus Cornwall, alright?” His voice was shaking, but he still tried to scare the men. Bold. You could hear Bill curse in the distance, the name familiar to them. Judging from their reaction, it wasn’t good news, and the anxiety rose in you like wildfire again as you tried to get away from the man holding you, his presence now suffocating.

“Hey, step away from her old man.” Arthurs’s voice grew firmer as the words rumbled in his chest, pushing the gun tighter against his temple when the man grabbed your shoulders harder. When you turned your head towards the elderly man, he looked as frightened as you, shocked by how the situation had transpired.

“Hey, Arthur, I got the money!” Charle’s satisfied voice made you both look up, but as you did, the sight of horses charging towards you in the distance made your eyes widen. Your breath stuck in your throat at the picture, your pulse rising as you struggled to control your quivering palms.

“Aw, shit. Uncle!” Arthurs voiced his annoyance at the downturn of the situation as he hit the elderly man with his gun, his body falling limp beside you as he held his head in his hands. Shocked, you looked at his squirming body as he writhed on the ground. Before you could shake away the shock that nailed your feet shut, you felt a pair of arms shake your petrified form.

“Get your head straight girl!” Amidst the loud sound of hooves filling your ears from every direction, Arthur shouted at you as he grabbed the horn on the saddle and hopped onto his horse. Sitting tall, he placed his arms under yours so he could lift you. Now seated before him, the sudden motion made your head spin as the world around you stayed a constant blur.

“Bill! We’ll split up, make it harder for them to track us. You go with Charles and Uncle to the left, and we’ll go straight! Stay out of camp for awhile!” His shouting brought you back to reality, the sound of bullets heading towards you growing louder the clearer your head got. Bill shouted in agreement as he cursed loudly and took off hastily, rifle in his hands as the three escaped the scene. Making a clicking noise, Arthur urged the horse to move, the force pushing your body forward from the sudden speed. The severity of the situation dawned on you when you glanced back at the riders following you. Your heart beat heavily against your chest; the number of men chasing after you could only be likened to a whole army. 

“There’s so many!” The wind wisped your hair around you as you flew through the country. You glanced back at Arthur. “Yeah, I know! But I think the others got the worst of it!” His statement did nothing to calm your racing nerves as bullets rushed past you. Boadicea’s muscles moved fervently under you as Arthur spurred her on. Fast didn’t seem like fast enough. The pace painted the world blurry as you 

rode on for a long time, the skies beginning to turn dark.

After a long while following the road, Arthur steered off it and up a hill into a tightly grown forest. “I think we’re losing them!” Your voice flew in the air as the wind in your ears whistled when you looked back. Almost stumbling on a rock, you both flew forward as Arthur’s heavy weight fell on you momentarily. A choked sound left your throat as the air left you, and you heard him curse out a sorry behind you. Recovering quickly, Boadicea picked up the pace once again as you gazed behind you, trying to see if they had gained on you.

Why in the world were there so many? Maybe Arthur was right, and it was a setup. After a while, the sound of hooves slowly grew distant, the only noise being your heavy breaths intermingling as you felt the adrenalin still run through your veins. 

“Shit, Arthur. What the hell was that?”

“That is why you don’t trust Uncle’s shit plans!” His voice was sharp like glass as he realized he was right like he usually was. “Foolish-minded fools, the lot of ’em!” He voiced his thoughts angrily. He was tense behind you, every move filled with a raging fury as he swiftly urged the horse forward.

“What do we do now?” You voiced your concerns worryingly. You had no idea where you were; the place was unfamiliar. It had grown chilly as the sun disappeared from the blue sky, the cold wind now apparent as the danger dissipated, and your body grew aware. 

“We find somewhere to hide until the next morning; they’ll probably be out looking for us, seeing as they think we have their money.” You hoped the others were well, even though you weren’t entirely too happy with how things had transpired. If Arthur wasn’t lying, they got the worst of it. You wanted to voice your concerns but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being; not entirely too sure that’s what he wanted to hear right now.

“I know a place where we can hide. It’ll be cold, but we’ll be safe. For now.” Unbeknownst to you, he glanced down at your shivering form. 

After a while, you could feel your breath calm down enough for you to relax slightly. Although you were still sitting up tensely, aware of the position you were in. Arthur was a big man, towering behind you, almost embracing you as his arms held the reigns at your sides. The warmth radiating from him was immense, and the softness of his scout jacket softened the impact of your back to his chest as the horse galloped. It did make you somewhat uncomfortable being that close to the man, but as time passed and the colder the air got, you found yourself sheepishly leaning backward to stop the chills running through your body. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it or, worse, push you away from him. 

The top of your head only reached his jaw when you glanced up at him, leaning your head back slightly. He was focused on the road ahead; eyes squinted angrily as he still grumbled bitterly under his breath. The corners of your mouth raised slightly before you curled your lips under your teeth, turning to look forward. He really was a grump sometimes.

Leaning forward, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck to try to calm your nerves. “You know, I’ve never been good at riding horses, so thank god you’re with me. No coordination whatsoever.” You laughed, trying to distract yourself from being chased through the now-dark country. Even though you couldn’t see them anymore, they were probably still on your lead. “We should be lucky we didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. When we stumbled over that rock, I thought we were don-”

“That’s the place over there.” His gruff voice interrupted your nervous blabbering.

Your head perked up at his mention. It wasn’t much to cheer for, run-down seeming like a compliment compared to this place. Although still standing, it looked like it would fall apart if someone as much as touched it. But it had a door, and the windows were barred, protecting it from the winds rummaging through the landscape. I guess that counts for something.

“You sure they won’t find us here?” A gust of smoke from the cold surrounded you when you spoke. Logically, if they had followed your direction, they would probably have gone rummaging through every abandoned house they encountered on the way. The only answer you got was a grunt, and you almost rolled your eyes at him. What splendid company you would have for the rest of the night. Although, he had been right about the whole ordeal, so it wasn’t hard for you to see where he came from. If your previous thought had been correct, all of this would fall on Arthur. With him being in higher authority in the gang, he also held more responsibility and had to make sure the plans went along smoothly.

As you approached the cabin hastily, he stopped the horse in a quick motion, the dirt flying in the air as it surrounded you both. Hopping down from the saddle, he patted Boadicea gently on the neck. “Come ‘ere.” His hands went around your waist as he hoisted you down from the tall animal, fingers squeezing subtly around your waist as he steadied you on the ground, avoiding your gaze. 

“Why don’t you hitch her up by the door? I’ll have a quick look in the cabin.” As he pointed to Boadicea, you gave him a curt nod as you did what he asked. “Will she be alright out here all night?” You blurted out as you fastened the rope against one of the planks in the fence surrounding the cabin’s front porch. A distant reassurance from Arthur could be heard as he ensured you would be alone and undisturbed. Giving the animal one last pat, you stepped up the wooden stairs, wrapping your arms around you. Since the sun had disappeared from the sky, it was dark inside, and your eyes found it troubling to adapt since the moon didn’t light up the room. 

The house was eerie. Furniture still adorned the chipped, wooden planks with thick dust covering the various surfaces. The air was cold, with the smell of wood mingling with the ever-so-slightly scent of moldy food left on the plates. It looked like the people that had been living here had just walked away during their dinner.

“I wonder who lived here.” you thought out loud. Your voice was barely a whisper like the people were still sleeping upstairs. Although muted by the carpet, the floorboards creaked when you stepped inside, the fabric now muddy from your shoes. Arthur was shaking the planks nailed to the windows from the inside, making sure they would stay in their place

“Come on. I’ll keep a lookout for a while, see if I can hear them passing by. Get some rest.” He pointed you toward a botched chair in the corner. It didn’t look like the most comfortable chair, but it would have to do for the night. Not that you had a choice anyway.

“Are you sure? I can accompany you if you want.” Your words grew warm at his selfness, looking at him with a prolonged gaze as he reached to take off his jacket. He held it towards you and, as he secured his hat, bowed his head as he headed out the door.

“Nah, get some rest, alright?” You were left in the darkness as the door closed, trembling from the shivers racking through you with the heavy jacket hanging from your grasp.

-

What the hell was he thinking? He daydreamed about you like he had every right to imagine you that way when you rode with him. Hell, you would probably spit in his face if you knew that most of his thoughts involved you. What a sad man you are, Arthur Morgan, thinking you could ever get your hands on her. Pure and warm, that’s what you were. You were too good. Your care extended further than his ever had, treating him like he deserved your kindness. Deserved you. He kept his distance from you, only speaking to you when necessary to try to make you understand that he wasn’t a good man—but being as close to you as he had during the ride shut off his brain entirely.

The guilt ran through him as he sat on the porch, leaning against the door. Being in the same space as you proved to be too much for him now, the smell of your hair still clouding his mind. Shit, it was impossible to keep you out of his mind. Raising from the coldness of the ground, he swept his hands over his face, leaning his arms to rest against the fence as he observed into the distance. The place was surrounded by trees, somewhat deep in the woods, quite far from the path. He hoped it was far enough, not wanting to put you in more danger than he already had. 

Irritation was still running through him at the outcome of the situation. He knew this would happen. At least they got away with the money. But if Cornwall’s men managed to get ahold of Bill, Uncle, and Charles, it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t feel up for a rescue mission right now; they had far more complicated things to think about.

-

As you sat in the chair for a while, wrapped in the oversized jacket Arthur lent you, your eyes became familiar with your surroundings. Finally, you could breathe out, although the stress from the predicament you just got yourself into raced through your body, making it hard for you to rest. It was dark and cold, and you missed the comforts of falling asleep in your bedroll at the lookout, surrounded by the women’s quiet whispering. Although, you felt safe enough knowing Arthur was outside in case anyone would stumble upon you two. 

There was a large table in the middle of the room where Arthur had placed his satchel and some benches adorning the walls by the stove. A fireplace was by one of the walls with various portraits perched on it, along with some candles and other trinkets. Yawning, you stepped up from the seat, wrapping the jacket tighter around you as you stepped towards the wall, examining the portraits. You wondered who they were as you ran your nimble fingers over the dusty surface, a stoic face now starting to show. You laughed slightly under your breath; the man looked downright horrified as the woman beside him smiled warmly. Was that his wife? You turned the frame, squinting so you could read the writing. 

“Ms.Hevett with son, Mr.Hevett.” Hmm, they both appeared to be very old. Mamas-boy maybe? You giggled again, putting your hand over your mouth to dull the sound. Returning the portrait, you glanced around. Oh, maybe Arthur had a match to light the candle! Well, of course, he had a match; he smoked every chance he got.

You tiptoed towards the door as it creaked when you pushed it open quietly. You called out for Arthur gently, seeing him leaning on the fence. His head turned to yours, alarmed, looking behind you as his hand rested on the gun in his holster. “You alright?” The words flew out from his mouth as he tensed, walking towards you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wondered if you have a match.” He looked at you for a moment, then furrowed his brows as he grabbed the edge of the door. “A match? Why? You don’t smoke.” 

You glanced sheepishly at him now, realizing you might be bothering him. “Well, there’s a candle in there, and I just, I, would be more comfortable if it wasn’t so dark. That’s all.” He scoffed slightly at your words. “You supposed to be sleepin’; what does it matter if it’s dark?” He asked you in disbelief. You only pursed your lips, staring at him as the moonlight reflected on his face. A sigh left him as he beckoned you inside, giving one last glance around the outside of the cabin. 

“This candle right here. If only we had some firewood, we could also warm the place. See, there’s a fireplace! I imagine the house was cozy when it wasn’t run-down.” You babbled as he followed behind you, reaching for a match in his bag. As he did at camp yesterday, he lights the match at the sole of his boot. Immediately, it casts the room in a warm blanket. It didn’t feel so eerily anymore, and the flame flickered around you softly.

He raised his brows as he spoke. “First, you want me to light this damned candle, and now you want me to go chop us up some wood?” He sounded more amused than his earlier cranky mood, but still, you looked at him unamused. “It was just an observation, alright?”

He chuckled lightly as he looked at you, observing you for a few seconds before speaking up. “You okay to sleep now?” His rough voice spoke the words as he motioned to leave again.

“Um, sure. Arthur, did you know a mother and her son had been living here? It said so on the portrait. I wonder what happened to them?” The words left you hurriedly, looking to say something to make him stay with you for a while longer. It was hard to explain, but you felt safer with him. In here. With you. 

You pointed towards the portrait. He glanced at you shortly before stepping back into the room. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been here a few times.” His answer was short.

“Oh.”

The air was stuffy, and the tension grew thick as you looked at each other. Neither of you knew what to say since Arthur always seemed to get tongue-tied around you, and you were unsure of how to converse with him. You draped the jacket even closer, staring at the floorboards.

“Ya still cold?” He startled you slightly, your head perking up at his words. “Umm, yeah, a little, but the jacket’s helping… so.” He nodded at you, grabbing the belt with his hands, tightening his lips together, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was expecting you to say something, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Oh, sorry, you’re probably cold as well. Here you can have it back.” You stepped towards him, the jacket slipping off your shoulder. 

“No, no. You take it, I’m used to it, alright?” His words were kind and selfless, and you felt terrible for not bringing your own jacket. Of course, he was cold; it was freezing in here. Knowing he cared enough for you to put your comfort before his own made your heart beat slightly faster. 

Once again, he went to exit the door and leave you in the empty house, but the moment he opened it, the words left you before you could stop them.

“Will you stay in here?” It was silent as the raindrops started to fall outside, pattering on the roof as the tension grew suffocatingly thick. Glancing at you with his head bowed, he cleared his throat. 

“It’s just I’ll feel safer with you in here. That’s all.” Feeling the need to explain your sudden outburst, you felt a blush rise at the humiliating situation. He probably thought you were childish, finding your words annoying and demanding.

Giving you a curt nod, he closed the door behind him, pushed one of the side tables against the door, and locked it.

“It won’t rain in, so don’t worry. Now,” He leaned back on the chair by the table in the middle of the room, putting one leg over his other to lean the ankle against it, taking his gun out of the holster and cleaning the dirty metal. “Get some sleep. We’ll set out in the morning.”

You listened to him this time and sat on the chair, bringing your legs up towards your chest as you closed your eyes. You knew it would. be hard for sleep to find you, but you still gave it a chance. 

-

You were wrong; you were able to sleep. But it didn’t last you very long, for the cold had seeped through both skin and bones, leaving you with tremors running through your already shaking body. You could still hear the thunder in the distance and the heavy rain splattering against the wooden roof. You opened your eyes, finding another pair staring right at you. You felt your stomach turn, the display of emotions running deep in his eyes as he observed you. His legs were spread wide where he sat, keeping sight of both you and the door in case someone barged through. The flickering of the faint light hit his eyes, painting his otherwise blue eyes a darker tone. It felt like a dream.

“Alright, that’s enough.” A heavy sigh left the man as he stood up. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked over to you. Grabbing under your arms, he lifted you as he sat on the chair. Gently, he placed you on his lap, with your head resting on his neck and legs draped over his thighs. 

“Jesus, woman, you’re freezing.” As he talked lowly, you could feel his voice rumble in his chest, the feeling soothing against you.

Oh, darn it, he was warm. How could he be so warm? No thoughts except warming your freezing frame made you wrap your arms around his waist, the thick jacket covering both of you. You felt his hands run over your arms, trying to warm you up as you moved against him, relishing in the heat from his body as you nuzzled your cheeks in the crook of his neck.

And finally, you fell asleep. 

-

“Arthur.” Jolting awake, Arthur’s eyes widened in the candle-lit room. His whole body tensed up as he gazed down at you, alarmed. 

Seemingly unhurt, a worried expression was on your beautiful face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you. Shushing him, you placed your hand on his bicep carefully. 

“You were mumbling in your sleep. Is everything alright?” Your eyes were tired but warm as he blinked down at you, now noticing his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you towards him. “Yeah, ’m alright.” His words were low, choked at the sight of you staring this tenderly at him. This was a dream, he told himself.

As his arms relaxed around you slightly, you wrapped yours tighter around his neck. He was so suffocating, his scent surrounding you from every direction as you basked in its grasp. His eyes were intense, the now sullen look he always carried vulnerable, as the folds around his eyes evened out. It still felt like you were in a dream, and you longed for it never to end. Good dreams never found you, but now you had it in your hands as the comforting blanket cloaked around you like Arthur was wrapped around your scorching body.

No words were spoken as you gasped slightly, nimble hands stroking up his arms as the broadness stretched against his shirt. His cheek was warm when you placed your trembling fingers on his scruff, tracing small figures as you observed the scar on his jaw and the slight bend of his nose from getting it dislocated often. As you grazed his skin, your eyes never left him, even when he closed them to revel in your touch. Being this close to him was comforting; the contact was foreign to you but something you had longed for. Feeling wanted by him was what you wanted your dreams to turn into for the longest time. And it finally did.

The world around you grew quiet; only your breathing was audible as his chest moved under you, heavy intakes of breath raking through him. Letting your gaze fall to his lips, yours parted slightly. Through hazy eyes, you closed the small distance between you. A warm surge spread through you as his chapped lips met yours, his slight beard tickling your skin. A low moan escaped at the contact, and your heart burst at the seams, the fire flaring and oozing with each movement. You always wondered what pressing your lips against his would be like, his stoic character making it feel like your wishes were miles away. But now you knew, and it felt better than you imagined. His hands were still around your waist, holding you tightly as you felt all the excitement overflowing in your veins at his apparent contentment of your actions.  

You snuggled into him, holding his cheeks and caressing them with your thumb. Slowly, you leaned your head back, feeling dizzy from the emotions clouding your brain. He followed you as you pulled away, almost as if you hauled him towards you like tied with a lasso. His breath warmed your skin as his lips were placed in the conjecture of your neck as he leaned against you. As you giggled slightly from the tickling sensation, he breathlessly chuckled as he left wet trails up to the space under your ear, caressing the small of your back with his large hands. His gloved hand against the fabric of your blouse felt enticing, your back arching due to his touch, your upper body now pressed flush against him. You held his head close as your hands were buried in his thick hair. His lips found yours again, shifting against you fervently as he moved with more vigor. 

Of course, it was a dream, Arthur thought to himself. It bled into every nightly thought he has had of you now for the longest time. Your scent reached his nostrils. It was so sweet, so you. Small arms were wrapped around him, and your legs were now glued at either side of his thighs as your soft lips touched the skin under his ears in a silent kiss. Shivers wracked through his body as he ran his coarse hand alongside your waist, the soft woolen fabric hugging the curve of your waist tightly. Small gasps emitted from you as your hands ran up his stomach to his chest, planting small, tender packs against the slightly sunburnt skin, looking up at him through hooded eyes. Sinful, that’s how you looked. 

He lifted you slightly, capturing your soft lips in his. The sweet caress of your skin against his felt divine, the wet noise of your tongues finding each other mingling with the sound of the rain outside. As the jacket slid down your shoulder, the man was left staring at the soft curve of your round breasts, revealed from the unbuttoned cotton of your blouse, the slight hardness of your nipples showing through the fabric.

“Arthur”

“Mmh.” He was too far gone now, but he kept assuring himself he was dreaming. You would have never put your hands on him if he wasn’t. He had noticed how you huddled closer to him from the cold when you rode on the horse, your figure nestling against his, curves snug against him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you aware of what you were doing to him? He was still trying to recover from what transpired in his head when you escaped the riders. No, not from the bullets seeking to pierce his flesh, but your bottom. Your soft, tantalizing rear. It had been flush against him as you leaned forward earlier, the round hips taunting him temptingly, almost as if they begged for his hands to caress the soft curves that stretched the fabric that covered it. Damned skirt. What he would have done to push it up your legs and reveal the tender flesh hidden beneath them. Your slit bare against the saddle’s leather as you squirmed, jiggling your cheeks like you were begging Arthur to give in to your desire. Shit. He shouldn’t have been thinking about you like that, not when you were right before him.

Leaning forward slightly, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck. You spoke, but the words that left your mouth turned into nonsense in his clouded head. 

He had given you some nonsensical answer as he stared down at you through hazy eyes as your hips moved in sync with the horse’s motion, words flexed mindlessly out of his mouth as his restraint seemed non-existent. Your terms of cheerful disbelief grew distant as heat traveled through his body at his unholy thoughts, mouth too dry to give you a coherent answer. His hands moving on the reigns, trying to keep them from indulging your softness against him so he could feel the tremendous friction he was sure would send him straight to heaven. Christ, you riding on a horse should be illegal.

But now you were here, with him, and he had your soft body in his grasp. The tension from his earlier thoughts became apparent, his hands moving on their own as they familiarized themselves with your curves that felt so real. Too real.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your button as he hastily lifts you. Automatically, your legs seek ahold of his waist, arms around his neck. He moved quickly over the floor as the lightning lit up the room from the cracks in the door, laying you down on the table and leaning down to cover your body with his. He was so close to you now, feeling every part of him press against you—every aspect. 

Snap!

Frozen in place, wide eyes adorn your face from the sudden sound. Arthur was still above you as he sharpened his ears, finding it difficult to hear since the rain hit the ground loudly outside. The snap had been just outdoor, like someone stepping on a branch. Panicked, you tried to find a reasonable explanation: an animal, a branch falling, or maybe Boadicea had moved.

Slowly, Arthur raised his body from yours, leaving you flustered and scared on the table. With a frightened stare, you looked at him as he raised his finger to his mouth, slowly stepping away so the wooden planks wouldn’t creek. Leaning against the door’s side, his hand rested on his pistol. Stay still. His eyes told you to do as he said, and so you did. It’s not like you were able to anyway, your muscles petrified. They had found you. The worst outcome filled your mind; what would they do to you if they got the upper hand? Turn you in, or worse, put a bullet between your eyes?

The loud noise of the door slamming open made you shoot your eyes toward it, finding Arthur standing in the doorway with his pistol pointed out into the dark.

“Aw, shit.” His throaty voice was laced with disbelief, making you lift your head from the table. Your laugh filled the space as the back of your head hit the table with a loud clang, eyes squeezed shut from the sight in front of you. It had seemed like Boadicea had found a friend, the stallion standing still from the sudden intrusion and ran away in haste. “C’mon, get outta here!” The surprised man cursed after the horse, beckoning it out as your hands found your face. The adrenaline still racing through you made your hands shake as the hilarity of the situation made you speechless. Placing your hand on your racing heart, you sat up as the old cutlery clinked underneath you, hearing Arthur’s loud, angry steps hit the porch steps. 

Standing before you, he sighed at your amusement, but you could see a slight smile worm its way underneath his frown. Although it quickly disappeared as he gazed at you before him. Right.

What in the world were you thinking? Now clear-minded, the intimacy you had shared entered your mind. Shame rose in you as your cheeks blazed, taking ahold of your blouse to cover your exposed state.

“Um…” You didn’t have the chance to finish the sentence before he cut you off. Hastily, he grabbed his rifle on the table and the pouch in harsh movements, making sure not to touch you before he went towards the door with big steps.

“It’s soon morning. Stay here until then; we’ll leave in a while.”

After the door slammed shut, the quietness was deafening. Now alone, you could see the slightest bit of light entering the cracks in the walls, but it didn’t ease the heaviness in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream, you thought to yourself. Every minute had been actual: his coarse hands, desperate lips, and body heat. If you closed your eyes and focused enough, you could still feel the traces of fingers over your clothing as his smell reached your nose once again, like he had united with the ghosts of this house and now haunted you. Taunting you. Why had he reacted so yet touched you so fiercely? You felt a pang in your chest at the thought, not understanding. 

Opening your eyes, you buttoned your blouse in shame and put your hands on your cheeks as you lifted yourself off the table. It was still chilly in the room but not as bad as the night before. Mindlessly, you wandered over the space, sat in the chair where Arthurs’s jacket lay, and brought your knees up to your chest, hugging it tight with your arms. The blissful moment you had together faded, the warm touches dimmed into cold, malicious blows to your heart as the hope of finally having a pleasant dream vanished, the moment turning into an all too familiar nightmare.

[scented-morker]

Enhypen when you’re their Bite Me dance partner

Idol!enha x background dancer reader (they’re female, but I didn’t use any pronouns so can be read as gn) 945 words. ⚠️PSA: just bc idols interact with the other gender doesn’t mean it’s romantic and I am in no way trying to imply that!! This is fanfiction and shouldn’t be taken too seriously!! ⚠️

Heeseung

No because when you first meet him he seems so calm and polite and you’re like “wow this is gonna work out so well”

Because even tho he’s super hot (hello?) He’s not trying to use it on you

But we’re all very familiar with the switch up when he starts performing

suddenly he’s smirking and holding eye contact and just 😳

You feel like you might need to go take a lap and cool off

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT PART IN THE SECOND VERSE WHERE LIKE HE GRABS HIS DANCERS HANDS DOWN HIS CHEST??? (1:39 in the 230602 mubank performance 🫣)

He chills out eventually but the first time he literally made you run your hands down his chest 🫠🫠🫠

“You know you can touch me right?”

He notices your hesitant movements and literally grabs your hands to put them on his neck 🥵

“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” bark bark bark bark bark

Jay

Literally SO respectful

When you guys meet for the first time he goes out of his way to get to know you because he doesn’t want it to be awkward when you start dancing

He keeps it up later too, he always asks “is this okay?” before putting his hands on your back or anything (even when you’ve run the song fifty times)

Every time you come back on stage he gives you a little wink 🫠

And everytime you do the like dip/lean back thing he makes silly faces at you when you come back up 😭

So all the fancams are trying to figure out why you’re laughing in the middle of the dance 😔

Jake

Okay because he’s a flirt and he knows that he should keep it professional with you but you’re just so pretty 🥹 he can’t help it

You notice how he always seems to be touching you a little longer than everyone else

Like Jake the choreographer stopped everyone five minutes ago why are you still holding on 🤨

Always acts like he’s gonna drop you when you lean back in that one part (I hope you know what I’m talking about)

Like he’ll have his hands on your waist and then let go just to watch you drop and then catch you again

(He thinks your angry face is cute when the song ends and you smack him for it)

Bites his lip EVERYTIME on the part where you touch his chin 🫣

Sunghoon

He’s so awkward I’m sorry 😭😭

Like you’re ready to start dancing and make your choreographer proud but he’s really making it hard

You can tell he doesn’t love the idea of touching you (rude 😐) so you try to go a little easier on him

You just lay your hands on him instead of grabbing or anything, and you don’t lean as far back bc he’s not actually holding your waist he’s just putting his hand in front of it 😭

But then the choreographer yells at him because he’s gonna end up dropping you so he has to actually touch you

“Uh is this okay? Where- where should I?”

You try not to laugh at his bashfulness, grabbing his hand and putting it on your waist

“You have to support my back right here okay? Don’t let me fall.”

BUT HES THE ONE WHO FELL (for you) 🤭🤪🤩

Sunoo

Literally made you feel instantly comfortable, he has the least threatening aura ever

He was all “hi! I’m sunoo!! I can’t wait to dance with you 🥰😁”

And you were like ☺️

At one point when you guys had marked it a few times, not actually doing the partner stuff you looked at him and went “are you sure you can hold me up?”

It’s not like he had to hold all of your body weight but like dang you needed some support ya know, and he just moved so gently that you were a little suspicious

This offended him immensely of course, and he picked you up right then and there

Just threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

“Yeah, I’ll be okay”

okayyyyyyyyyy 🥵

Jungwon

Slow burn x100 bc he’s a responsible and professional leader 👏

He asked Niki about how to better dance with a partner because he didn’t have any experience with it and wants to make sure he does a good job 🥹 (my baby)

He is DETERMINED to make this choreography perfect, and is not afraid to correct you

“Make sure you actually touch my chest when you do that, it doesn’t look as good when you just pretend.”

Okay Jungwon 🤭 I’m sure that’s why 🤭

When he starts really performing with facials and everything you’re literally losing it 😭

Like face burning bright red, what happened to the cute guy you were dancing with for the last month why is he staring into your soul mid dance

One time he touched your knee while you did the like drag up by their chin move and you literally had to take a walk

Riki

He knows what he’s doing okay?

Like I said previously, he’s the only one with experience in partner dancing

So you were worried at first that he’d be shy because you knew he was the youngest one

But then the first time you ran the song together he grabbed your waist and dropped you so low your ponytail wiped the floor 😭😭

He makes SO MUCH eye contact you literally are on the verge of combusting

When the boys point it out he says it’s because he has to watch you to make sure you don’t need anything because that’s what good observant partners do (boys a liarrr)

Since you’re one of the ones that has to start on the ground he always put his jacket on the ground during practice so you wouldn’t hurt your back/shoulders 😭😭

[thesovereignsring-if]

Major Update: To move forward is to take a step back.

Hello everyone, it's been a while. I hope you're all doing well. I'd ask that you read this to the end because some major changes will be in the upcoming update.

TLDR: You will need to start a new save file for new update (this weekend) otherwise there will be very noticable issues down the line.

I can't recall the last time I made a post or an update like this and frankly i'm scared to check . I've been struggling with writers block with the end of Chapter 1 and my small bouts of depression did not help one bit, so I had to take a step back and re-examine the narrative. If you ask me what the problem was, i'd say that perhaps I rushed too quickly into the main story, when I needed a little more foundation to stand on. After a few months of deliberation, a solution has been found. And I think everyone will like it. There will be no major rewrite of any sort, I think I would cry if that were the case.

Instead we going going to have a second prologue. This means that Chapter 1 will be inaccessible until the second prologue is complete. I'm very sorry that things have to be this way, but I do no see any other option for the story to continue forward in a satisfying way.

The second prologue will take place a few months after the first prologue during the Grand Festival of Eostre. This will be the first year you'll celebrate without your mother, at the very least you will have your friends and family with you at the time.

What to expect in the first half of Prologue 2:

Up to 13k words of new content.

Spend some time with your family.

Looooreeee & tea.

Meet Lior the Grand Cardinal of the Church of Eostre. The leading religion in Nibelheim.

Choose how to spend your free time at the festival in 2/4 possible routes. Route A: Alberich & Finny, Route B: Sieghardt & Thea.

(The last two routes will be added in the next update: Route C: Lynnette, Erik & Daria/Darius, and Route D: The Empress, King Lugh & Duchess Neaera)

Erik has a younger bastard half-sibling named Daria(f)/Darius(m). ( I will address them as Dara for short.) The final romantic interest, gender selectable. Even if you do not choose Route C, you will meet them later on in the second half of the update.

Fixes + Updates:

Character Creation has been updated and streamlined. (Gender/Pronouns and Sex are separate categories for both adult and child character creations. Attributes chosen during Child Character Creation will be stored as different variables in the event I choose to do anymore flashbacks later on in the story.)

Please note, that choosing after your sex (as an adult) I will assume your character will have the corresponding equipment down there.

Music Credits have been updated.

Minor adjustments to the colour of the UI, if people have any sort of colour theme they wish to see, I'll be more than happy to add them.

That is all for now. I hope the year has been kind to everyone so far. I haven't gone through my inbox yet, but I've seen glimpse of people's support it goes a long way. I sincerely do no think I'd come back if it weren't for the fact that I'd feel like I'd let everyone down. I will be making a patreon post after the first update goes live to talk about the new update and exclusives later.

Thank you for reading and enjoying TSR over the past year. It's means a lot to me and let's hope things will be better moving forward.

See you <3

Lili

[raitonsfw]

Hello ,

I would like to request dazai Osamu with a reader who is a virgin a d having sex for the very first time and he goes into corruption mode and is soo feral with her teasing and all but still takes good care of her after it .

you can ignore this if you want

thank you

𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: You wanted him in his entirety and you made sure you were well prepared for your first time with Dazai, but what you weren’t prepared for was how much he wanted you in your entirety. Once he sunk in, his mind went blank and it was over. All you could do was take it, every inch, every thrust, every dirty mantra, everything. And you loved every second of it.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, virgin!reader, dick drunk!reader, pussy whipped!dazai, corruption kink, first time, consent, cursing, fingering, grinding, p in v intercourse, breast play, teasing, praising, dirty talk (lots of it), aftercare (he runs a lil bath for her), a smidge of pain, slight overstimulation, feral dazai fucking reader mercilessly into the mattress, reader does wear a skirt and works at the ada, bit of a bandage obsession (he’s so goddamn pretty with them), pet names (darling, princess, sweetheart, baby), possibly my best work? idk i fucks with it.

a/n: ty to my wonderful anon for requesting this, it was so entertaining to write cuz not me having to take several breaks to recollect my thoughts every time i wrote a piece of dazai's dialogue (he turns me into putty, i swear🧡), also, if anyone understands the manga reference in the very beginning, ily lots. wc: 2.9k. m.list

now playing: oxytocin by billie eilish

divider credit: @benkeibear

It was the day, you thought meekly as you mentioned something about leaving early to the bandaged boy that sat at Kunikida’s desk reading a new manga issue. 

“Huh? You want to go home now?” He asked, pulling one of his earbuds out and looking at you with a confused face. Dazai’s fingers played with a page hosting the demise of a beloved character and you instantly thought, maybe it wasn’t the time to bother him about cutting his day short. Not when his manga issue had been so grim, the remainder looking quite halved.

“Dazai…” You locked eyes with him and he slid the book into his bag wearily, reaching for his coat that he hung on the back of the chair. He pulled it on quickly, the edges flowing against him like waves and you admired how it fit him, the natural curves of his body did wonders within your mind. 

“Fiiine, but I want to finish this issue by tonight.” He complained, taking your hand as you two walked out of the office. 

Dazai and you had been dating for a few months, coming up close to a year and you made sure you had enough time to prepare. Prepare for your first time with Dazai, of course. You weren’t stupid, you’ve been thinking about it for months now– about the way his fingers lightly ghosted over your thigh as you two made out, the way a tiny groan would slip from his mouth when you gently bit his lip, the way that his cock would perk up when you managed to run your palm down his chest.

But that’s as far as you went. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just weren’t ready for that type of intimacy. Dazai never rushed you, the comfort of his cuddles were very pleasing when he noticed your lack of forwardness after you felt you went too far. But the aching between your thighs lately had been getting to you as your eyes washed over Dazai’s lean build, taking in how his black vest hugged his waist with little effort and the tactical bandages adorning his body– you wanted them off. Off and hanging from his flushed body, fucking you mercilessly into the pillows that surrounded you.

Dazai twirled the key around his finger, opening the door to his apartment and ushering you inside with his hand against the small of your back. You entered before him, taking in the warmth of the tiny apartment that seeped into your bones. You wanted to jump straight to the evening, but you honestly didn’t know if you could even wait that long as you glanced at Dazai. He was taking his coat off and he had his manga in hand already, ready to finish it at the drop of a hat. 

“Dazai, I had something to ask you.” You started as he made himself comfy on the edge of the sofa, his legs crossing promptly and you second guessed yourself again when he propped the book open to resume the gory mess of the chapter. 

“Yes, darling?” He glanced up at you, trying to read your expression and he made another confused face when you didn’t answer. “Y/N?” 

You didn’t know how to tell him, the question on the tip of your tongue but not quite leaving. All you wanted was him on top of you but how were you to initiate it when you’ve never done this before? All of the other times, Dazai had kissed you first with a gentle hum and guided you into the confidence of taking the lead if you ever wanted to. It was genuinely sweet that he’s so willing, so patient with you, and your head spun a bit as you looked at him with a blank face.

Dazai put the book down on the armrest of the sofa and you knew you took too long to respond. He reached over, his legs uncrossing in their position and pulled you into his lap with a gentle tone evading his lips. “Are you okay? You’ve been off all day.” 

As you straddled him on the sofa, your impatience got worse when you felt the swell of your cunt press directly against his cock. You just wanted to sink onto him right then and there, the size of him basically teasing you and your entire face flushed red. You avoided his gaze as he tried to gauge what was wrong, his hands coming up to hold you around the waist steadily. 

He pressed a tiny kiss against your cheek, muttering into it. “Seriously, what made you wanna leave work early? I mean, not that I minded. We basically had nothing to do with Kunikida and Yosano out on a mission.” 

As Dazai continued talking, he shuffled his leg mindlessly and you dropped down further into his lap with a squeak. You slick rubbed up against the seam of your panties, nearly flooding through the thin material that sat so perfectly flush against his clothed dick and you were sure he noticed it by now. You were sure he noticed the heat of your cunt, warmer than usual, wetting the front of his trousers as he soothed kisses down your neck. The unmistakable bulge that pressed up into you made you dizzy, he knew why you were acting so off now.

“Is this why?” Dazai tutted, his eyes coming up to stare into yours as his fingers trailed down towards your inner thigh underneath your skirt. “You’ve been hot and bothered all day, huh princess?” 

“Yeah, been thinking about us…” You trailed off as you met his eyes finally, the muddled brown looking darker than usual. 

“About us? Did you want– Are you ready?” He stammered a bit, his face going red along with yours at the thought then a playful smirk played on his lips “Oh wow, can’t wait to tell Fukuzawa why we left early.”

“Dazai, don’t you dar–” You were cut off by a moan as his fingers pressed into the soaked material of your panties. You clutched at his bandaged wrist, grinding down onto them as he looked back at you with wide eyes dumbfounded that you didn’t shy away from the action. Sure, he’s grinded against you before with his dick but this was different, you were practically begging for his fingers in you.

“Y/N…” Dazai suddenly breathed out, his fingers slipping into the lace deftly and you felt him brush up against your clit. He studied your face, readying for any drawbacks as he went further with you. This was new to him after all, normally you’d tell him if he went too far. He wasn’t thinking straight when he pressed them against your cunt the first time moments ago and definitely not now as he slid them into you with ease. 

You jolted, the foreignness of it startling you slightly and he stopped moving them in. “Are you okay with this?” 

You nodded as you gasped breaths into his hovering lips, pulling him into a chaste kiss. His fingers curled in you slightly as he slid his tongue into your mouth, lapping at you breathlessly. You whined into the kiss, his fingers dipping in and out of you shallowly and the discomfort dissipated after a few seconds. You glanced down at where he had pinned with pleasure and you vaguely registered how he so painfully strained against his trousers, his wrist resting lightly against it as he thrusted into you. 

“D-Dazai…”

“What is it, princess?” He cooed, kissing the side of your lips as you tilted your head away from him. One of his fingers started to rub circles into your clit and you couldn’t remember what you had to say, the words disintegrating for your tongue. “You okay? Fuck, you’re so tight around my fingers… Can’t wait to get you around my cock.” 

That’s what it was, his cock. That’s what you wanted. 

But before you could yearn for it, his fingers slipped out quickly and you were being picked up by slender arms. The manga book dropped the armrest of the sofa and Dazai sighed as he noticed he had lost his page, but he didn’t move to pick it up as he brought you down the hall towards his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed carefully, tugging at your shirt with questioning eyes which you answered a quiet ‘yes’ to.

Dazai raked it up, marveling at the way your breasts bounced in the lace bra that matched your panties and he kissed them tenderly while he unclasped the back, letting them spill out. “So pretty for me, Y/N.” 

He wanted to take this slow, he didn’t want your first time to be rushed after all. After all, Dazai had been waiting for you to express you were ready and if you trusted him this much, he was going to make sure everything went right. He sucked a light hickey into the top of your breast while pulling off your skirt, his tongue basically melting the bruise into your skin as you huffed out a tiny whine. 

His dick felt so heavy against the seam of his trousers as he slipped your panties off, gazing in awe at how beautiful you looked exposed underneath him. Dazai slipped his vest off and his shirt all in one go and you crossed your legs together self consciously as he undressed. But before you could fully close them, a steady hand came to rest around your knee as he slipped out of his trousers clumsily. It was endearing to watch him almost trip against you as he shakily took them off. “Don’t be shy, darling, you’re perfect. Everything I imagined, okay?” 

‘Okay…” You breathed out, letting him slot himself between your legs and he immediately captured you in a kiss, his fingers lingering everywhere they could reach. You keened into his touch as he gripped your thighs, pulling you right against his confined dick and you wanted them off already. “D-Dazai?”

“Yes?” He murmured, rubbing his length against you and watching your arousal slick a dark patch in his light blue boxers. A quiet groan slipped out of him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes half lidded and honestly, you’ve never seen such a fucking sight in your life. His bandages wrapped around his forearms but his upper arms were exposed, his neck bandage connecting down some of his chest but not all. It was taut against his skin and you just wanted to pull at it til it broke, til it ripped and laid tangled against you too. 

“Be gentle?” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders up with a nervous expression. He gave you a quiet scoff, his hands coming to rest on both sides of your body and you felt him shuffle out of his boxers. 

“Who do you think I am?” Dazai chuckled, prodding the tip against your clit and rubbing it slowly. You gasped out at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut. “Of course, sweetheart.” 

He moved it down towards your entrance and everything suddenly felt so real. Dazai sank in slightly and he cooed at you when you let out a quiet noise of discomfort, kissing you promptly as he pushed the rest of the way in. You felt the wave of pain thicken as he bottomed out, but you breathed through your nose, your mind guiding you to remember that you two were finally connected. He had buried his face into your neck, nipping at the flesh lightly as a drawn out moan came from him. 

Dazai honestly felt like he short circuited, you wrapped around him so well, so fucking tight. Yeah, be gentle? That was the last thing on his mind now as he felt your walls clench around him tightly, waiting for him to move. He didn’t know where these thoughts had come from, but all his brain was mustering up was ‘fuck you stupid into the mattress,’ or ‘make you cry his name between sobs,’ the absolute filthest things. He wanted to corrupt you, your virginity flowing like invisible threads between his fingertips as you whimpered out his name, urging him to move.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Dazai groaned, his hips snapping into you harshly and you let out a shocked cry as he barely gave you time to adjust. “Fuck, fuck, ‘M sorry, needed to have you right now.” 

He gripped your thighs, leaving crescent shaped imprints as he pulled you onto his dick more. He thrusted into you with a sharp pace, quickly leaning up to gain more control over your body as he set a rhythm. His eyes nearly rolled back as he watched you struggle to hold onto his biceps, tiny whimpers coming from your lips and there were tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill. He watched, his pace never slowing, as your breasts bounced with every vigorous draw of his cock and your hands flew towards the sheets instead as he plowed into you with harsh breaths.

‘God, so tight, so good for me. Seems like your pussy was made to fit around me perfectly, was made specifically for my fucking cock, princess.” Dazai teased, gaping at the way his cock slid so wonderfully into you, the base of it wet with a creamy ring already and you felt him twitch with ecstasy inside you.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, those words you whispered to him before abandoned and was this really your partner? Had you been holding back from him for too long? Maybe you should’ve given yourself to him sooner. 

It didn’t matter anymore, your brain had been frazzled beyond belief as pleasure sparked up your spine viciously, shocks and tingles overtaking every part of your body. You had your back arched upwards, bracing yourself with every ruthless thrust into your cunt and you had to make sure you didn’t knock your head into the bedframe. 

“Arch some more for me, beautiful.” A gentle palm came to rest underneath you, lifting you up some more and you shuddered at the feeling of his dainty fingers spreading against your back. 

“Look like such an angel for me. Guess I’m the devil huh?” Dazai taunted with a wry smile, whining each word out with eyes squeezing shut for a moment as pleasure coursed through his cock as you clenched around him again purposefully. “Wrecking you like this, I really shouldn’t have but, God, you looked so innocent underneath me…” 

Fuck, you should’ve done this a long time ago. He hit your sweet spot with relentless aim, ramming into it and you let out another loud cry, your mouth dropped open and you felt you were on fire as he laughed dryly at your jolt from his movements. 

“Gonna cum on my cock, baby? Look at me, princess.” You opened your eyes lazily, his experience making you numb to the touch and his hips became sloppy with each thrust now. He rolled them into you, his other hand gripping at your waist as he tilted his head back slightly. He whimpered out with a quiet slur, “So close...thank you, thank you…” 

His name became familiar in your mouth, nothing but it escaped in a frenzy of moans and you felt your orgasm surging, the feeling reaching higher and higher and-

You came undone underneath him the same time as he did, cumming all over his cock who painted your insides white with his. He pumped himself through it, collapsing against you afterwards. You whined out at the aftershocks, shaking slightly as Dazai pulled out of you. Immediately, you felt his hands against your thighs, caressing them after every jerk and twitch of your abused cunt. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He apologized all in one breath, his voice wavering slightly and you placed one hand on his back, smoothing it over once. 

“It’s okay.” You said once you caught your breath and by then, he had kissed you silly and massaged every single ache in your body away. The feeling of his touch calmed you into a state of exhaustion and with every gentle kiss, he whispered sweet nothings to bring you back to reality. 

“Want me to run a bath for you, sweetheart?” He asked once you could answer his questions, rubbing circles into your hips and lapping at the bruises on your breasts lovingly. “I’m going to carry you, so don’t worry about walking. I was so rough, wasn’t I?”

“Dazai, honey.” You whined, the pet name falling from your lips and he looked at you with his eyebrows raised. You smiled warmly at him. “You’ll fuck me like that everytime?” 

“If you want me to.” He grinned into the side of your thigh as he moved downwards to get off the bed, wiggling into his boxers during the process. “I’m running the bath.” 

Dazai bounced away and you stared up at the ceiling contentedly, a deep sigh parting from your lips. You never had expected your first time to be that intense, but you were so glad that it was, the feeling of him ghosted through your body and you hummed to yourself happily. You didn’t know why you waited so long, especially if that was how he was going to react. It sent arousal flooding through you again and you knew there’d be more than one round tonight by the looks of it.

You heard Dazai’s voice sing his way through his apartment, like honey dripping by the spoonful. “Darling, would you like a bubble bath instead?”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[shirefantasies]

hello there!! i've been reading your works for a while and they're adorable, i love them so much ;A;

it's actually my birthday today! if it's not too much trouble, could you write the Fellowship (plus Arwen and Eowyn if you'd like <3) and how each of them would spend reader's birthday with them?

if not, then that's okay! hope you have a great day and once again i love your writing :D

Happy belated birthday anon! This is a cute idea 😄

REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED! This is a very old request I’m just getting around to posting.

Warnings: a bit suggestive at times

How LoTR Characters Spend Your Birthday With You

Aragorn

He is not exactly the biggest party person, so unless you are your celebration will be smaller, more intimate. You’ll be woken with the gentlest kiss and a whispered blessing. Whatever you command, Aragorn teases, he is yours…. Beyond that, he is his typical attentive self, cooking your favorite meal for you and laying it out beautifully as he can. Candles, flowers, you name it and he has found it. All day the words pass his lips that the world is all the richer for your entry into it, that he considers you a blessing every day of his life. So much so, in fact, he’ll even tolerate you smashing some cake on him if you feel a bit giddy that night! Shaking his head, he just smiles and laughs it off. It is your birthday, after all, and he is plenty used to the old antics of his friends!

Legolas

You expect a surprise, ironically, knowing Legolas’s air of teasing mystery, and sure enough he whisks you away nearly as soon as he can. Any questioning fails utterly, but at least you get to see Legolas’s dark eyes glitter with mischief as he tells you you’ll see. In the end you’re taken to a little paradise all your own, a treetop canopy with a scenic view. “And of course you have your cake,” he teases, remembering how important it was to you. You’re still in awe of the view, jaw slack at the horizon of endless green blending into the blue sky with its sparse puffs of cloud. It’s amazing, utterly so and you tell him, but the woodland prince insists that the most amazing part of this all is you. Your birth, your entry into the world those years ago, means more to him than he can ever truly convey.

Boromir

Such ambition! Boromir asks you to describe your dream day and vows to give it to you. Taking a boat ride? He’ll find a way. Having a joust? He would be honored to be your partner. A party with your friends? Simply give him the notice and he will invite them all to a grand event! He understands that cake is traditional so he commissions the best of his father’s bakers for yours. All the while of the merriment Boromir’s arm is slung about your waist, his eyes and grin loving as they fix firmly upon you. You may have to restrain him, for he’ll want to hoist your arm up and call out your praises in front of everybody! He definitely tries to be understanding if these ideas make you anxious, however, toning down the party in his mind to a candlelit dinner for two. Hm, yes, perhaps some romance would be a good way to spend your birthday after all….

Gimli

Pretends he forgot. His jaw drops, lips widening into an o shape as he asks oh, was that today? Today of all days? …Followed immediately by mischievous he-he-hes of laughter as he reaches into some pocket or another and pulls out a box. “I jest, of course? You think I would forget the most important of days, the birth of my fairest One? Not in the slightest! Go on, open it up!” Inside is none other than a piece of your favorite type of jewelry, clearly handmade and beautifully custom crafted. Gimli made it himself of course, not a single other dwarf laying a hand on it. “Just like you,” he jokes as you embrace and pull his lips into yours. As far as any other celebration of course he wants to scream it from the hills and drink and dance the night away with you, but if you want no fanfare Gimli will simply walk with you anywhere you go, still telling everyone it’s your birthday, before taking you home for a more private celebration. Hopefully still some drinks and dancing, even if it’s just you two. And something else? Well, he would give you everything you want on your special day, just ask and he is yours…

Frodo

You’ll awake to a pair of the most loving blue eyes you’ve ever seen upon you. Soon as he knows you’ve risen, Frodo reaches over to caress your face, a smile creeping onto his lips before he kisses your forehead. “Good morning, my love. How would you like to spend your day?” Anything you request within reason will be yours. The weather cooperates, luckily, so if you wish to take a walk on the edges of the Shire or take to the market opportunity is availed to you. Frodo will organize a party if you wish it, inviting only your closest friends and family and hoping he’ll be your only dance partner for the evening! Encourages you to be the one to cut your cake, nodding eagerly towards it with a big smile. He spent ages on your gift, a hand-illustrated and bound volume of your favorite story he made with his uncle Bilbo.

Sam

Spends a whole day making your cake himself. It has to be perfect, your favorite flavor and lots of edible flowers to make it pretty! Sam is very sweet with you, absolutely doting on you all day and insisting you don’t lift a finger. Even going so far as to romantically carry you over thresholds if he can. The most loving eyes fall onto you as he asks what you want to do, flushing if you make any more scandalous suggestions and agreeing eagerly, readying himself to pull off the bed and onto your next adventure. It’s the end of the night, naturally, when he insists on cutting you a big slice of your cake and showering you with gifts ranging from flowers to a new one of your favorite comfort items to a special piece of craftsmanship from his elven friends! Party or no, Sam will share a lantern-lit dance with you that night and will be telling you how much he loves you and is grateful you were born all day!

Merry

The type to suggest celebrating on your birthday, if you catch his drift. Loves your eager reaction or if you smack him and tease back, both is good. Morning or evening, he won’t be picky! But in all seriousness, this calls for a celebration and by the stars you are getting one! Merry will have the whole of the Green Dragon singing your praises and wishing you well that night, not to mention being ready with a cake and a hearty meal! All day he’s walking around with the proudest smile and a hand around your waist. His gift to you is the perfect mix of pretty and practical, a gorgeously embroidered coat with bejeweled buttons that had to have cost a lot, but he assures you it’s worth it with a kiss to your forehead and another happy birthday.

Pippin

Writes it down so he doesn’t forget what day it is, then sets himself to work planning you a party! If you don’t like large events then instead of a massive Shire celebration he’ll throw something in your yard or the Tooks will rent out the Green Dragon for a night with all your friends. During the day, though? Pippin refuses to share you, no sir. All his attention is on you from the moment he surprises you with a big breakfast to when he sets aside the dishes. Even getting ready for the day he’ll pamper you, running you a bath and jumping in with you too of course! A picnic lunch in a field of waving wildflowers, lots of shared kisses beneath the sun, and a bouquet hand-picked just for you await! Tells anyone who runs across you that it’s his beloved’s birthday, you know. Your favorite gift this year is a scarf, one quite similar to Pippin’s but in your favorite color instead, the one you wear most. He had his mother make it for you just like the cake! Warning: Pippin will want to hand-feed you some cake and may see about smashing just a teensy bit up by your nose. If you really hate that he won’t, but if you retaliate? Well, your cake fight may turn into another bath for you two and then who knows from there…

Faramir

His brother was always the better one at this, an internal voice tells Faramir, but that makes it all the more exciting, especially because Boromir is happy to help him execute his plan! You are completely unsuspecting of the brothers’s scheme as you pry open the doors to the chamber Faramir asked you to meet him in, lops parting widely in shock at the crowd awaiting you. They all wish you a happy birthday as one, just as your family did for you in your youth. Tears fill your eyes at the sight of the gathering, but you are quickly swept into Faramir’s loving arms. He doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night, either.

Eomer

Good luck getting out of bed that morning! Eomer will be upon you from the moment you arise, showering you with affection and ministrations of your every need and desire. He insists he can even do the cooking, which he does not usually undertake, but when you finally do arise for a meal you find quite a hearty selection awaiting you. From there Eomer takes you out for a ride, insisting you share a horse so he can hold you close and keep you blindfolded- no need to ruin the surprise so early, hm? You feel the incline before you see it, obviously, but after your mount slows Eomer lifts you up and sets you down to restore your sight. The fabric drops to reveal a flowered hill and a gorgeous view of the blue sky, both of which pale in comparison to the sight of Eomer knelt before you, telling you your birthday is a day of new beginnings. Asking then if you’ll grant him the new beginning of a married life with him?

Eowyn

Bless her soul, she makes you a cake. You can imagine how that goes. Looking at it with trepidation, you eagerly pull her to your day’s activities, saving that for the end of the night anyway. Rather, your focus is on the freedom you have to celebrate, taking a ride just to feel the wind in your hair and laugh with abandon at Eowyn’s side. Nearing your ride’s end she lays down a blanket and carries you down upon it, unpacking a meal for you to share as you watch the sunset. You will celebrate with friends and family, certainly, but this day is for you two. Laughter ensues further as you both choke on the cake, agreeing it’s no good but you assure her you love that she made it nonetheless, tackling her down upon the spread fabric with teasing, affectionate kisses. Giggling, she practically peels you off to give you your gift: a sword emblazoned with the Riddermark’s most gorgeous flowers.

Haldir

Haldir was never one to celebrate birthdays. It just never occurred to him to do anything beyond well wishes. So imagine his surprise when you began pondering what kind of cake you’ll make, if your elven neighbors would come for a party. Party? Of course, you say? Raucous celebrations were more characteristic of those in Mirkwood, but for you, Haldir realized with a smile the next time you were in his arms, he would lace up his dancing shoes. Insisting on handling the cake, he enlists Lothlórien’s finest baker, the one who crafts for Galadriel herself, to make you a gorgeous dessert that sits at your celebration’s center. He lets you teach him a dance or two and performs one you both know, letting loose and even just laughing in simple joy. Your gift is his favorite part of the evening, a mantle crafted of the strongest material that will keep you safe and looking beautiful as you always do in his eyes.

Galadriel

Oh, you are going to be pampered. The most beautiful sunlight kissing your skin as Galadriel whispers good morning, caressing your cheek and pulling you into her lips. Spending the morning exactly how she knows you like before treating you to a day of luxury. Healing massages for you both, a ride upon Lothlórien’s boats until you moor at the base of a great waterfall, the power of your love’s ring parting the waterfall as she beckons you into a wonderfully dry and decorated hollow. Therein you share a meal and each other’s company, whispered words of how much you mean to each other and all your desires shared before you are gifted a necklace bearing the great works and designs of Lórien- but most importantly engravings of Galadriel’s love for you hidden beneath the metal swirling around its white stone.

Elrond

Having a complicated family history himself, Elrond takes the task upon his own shoulders to show others compassion, comfort, and most of all senses of belonging and being loved. Of course this extends to your birthday! He wishes you well from the first and tells you what a blessing you are, how you surprise him with your strength and warm him with your smile every day. And do not doubt that you’ll be treated to the most luxurious of baths and Elrond washing and styling your hair for you. Following that is an afternoon lavished with gifts, jewelry and art and all you could ask for. That night, Elrond brings you up to the highest point in all of Rivendell to stargaze and so he can hold you and sway with you beneath the lights that looked down upon and symbolized his ancestors.

Arwen

Unless you specifically request the opposite, she’ll steal you away completely. Gone are you from the many eyes which could fall upon you, gone far off hand in hand with your beloved. Riding away to a secluded hollow where you and Arwen can be free, be yourselves. Lay in each other’s arms, weave flowers in each other’s hair, and flush joyfully and bashfully when she reaches up to feed you by hand, her own face a playful grin. Each kiss she gives you is deep, languid, intent, her hands falling to you as if to hold you there forever, but you mind not being bewitched so by her. Whispers of how grateful she is for your birth shared between your lips until they are joined again. Arwen’s gift to you is a ring, one that bears words of her own writing within its band. My love for all time.

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