#isolate the step. block your mind of what to do next.

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

Randomly got surged with love for my dog, hug your dogs everyone <3

[chvoswxtch]

teach me

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.

warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.3k

a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“You’re being a dick.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”

“You’re still being a dick.”

“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”

It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.

Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 

But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.

“That was real cute.”

Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.

“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”

“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”

“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”

Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 

The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.

In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.

Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 

“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”

Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.

“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”

Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.

“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”

Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.

“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”

While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.

“Show me.”

Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 

“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”

Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.

“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”

Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.

“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”

Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.

“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”

Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.

“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 

Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.

Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 

“Holy shit, that actually worked!”

Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.

“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”

Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.

“I have a gun.”

“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 

Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 

“Okay, step three.”

A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.

“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”

The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.

“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”

Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.

“Good. Show me.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 

The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.

“Show me.”

“I’m not doing that-”

“It ain’t loaded-”

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”

Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.

But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.

Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.

“Hey-”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”

“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”

“And what if I can’t, Frank?”

The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 

But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.

Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.

“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”

The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.

“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.

“You are such an ass.”

The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”

Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.

“No hesitating. I promise.”

“Attagirl. C’mere.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.

Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.

Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.

“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”

Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.

“I had a good teacher.”

“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”

“I thought I had terrible aim?”

“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.

“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”

Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.

The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.

“Frank-”

“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 

“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 

“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”

His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.

Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.

“Fuck…Frank…”

Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.

“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.

But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.

That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.

“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”

Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.

You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.

“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”

Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.

Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.

“If ya need a minute-”

“No. Now.”

While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.

“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”

A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.

“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”

The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.

“Got somethin’ better in mind.”

By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.

“Wait.”

Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.

“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”

Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 

“Huh?”

Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 

“What are you-holy shit.”

Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 

You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.

“Just relax.”

The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.

“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”

Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 

All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.

“C’mere.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 

“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”

“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”

Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 

Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.

“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”

This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.

Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.

Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 

“Frank-”

“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.

Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.

“Frank…I…I-”

Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 

Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.

The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.

As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.

“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”

Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.

“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”

Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.

“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”

“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”

When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 

How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?

Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.

What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-

“Quit it.”

The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 

“What?”

“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”

Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.

“How do you even-”

“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”

Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”

Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”

Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.

“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”

That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.

“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”

Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.

“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it don’t.”

“So…he’s-”

“An asshole. Go to sleep.”

Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.

“Frank!”

“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”

“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”

“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”

“I thought Billy was your only friend.”

Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.

“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”

Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Hey!”

A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.

“I’m not done. I have more questions.”

“Course you do.”

“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”

While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.

“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[koiiiji]

some mistakes couldn’t be undone

tw ; abuse, canonical violence, Gitae is a threat himself, angst, yandere(?)

author's note ; i still haven't decided if i want to write him having really small soft spot, or well... a more canonical bastard…✊🏻😔

author’s note 2 ; minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

the flickering light above the old hotel door cast long shadows on the cracked walls, giving the room an air of abandonment and isolation. you thought you'd find safety here, far away from the life you'd tried so desperately to escape. Gitae had never been a man to let things go, but you'd dared to hope that the distance, the unfamiliarity of mexico’s wilderness, would keep him away for long enough. long enough for you to figure out what to do next.

but he had found you.

the door slammed open with a force that reverberated through the thin walls. you barely had time to register his presence before you felt the back of your head collide with the hard plaster, pain sparking through your body as you gasped, stunned. Gitae’s face was twisted with anger, his eyes wild and dangerous.

“have you decided to run away? do you think someone there will protect you?” his voice was a snarl, dripping with venom as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back toward him. your scalp burned from the sharp pull, but the pain was nothing compared to the terror freezing your veins.

who was he now? the man standing in front of you wasn't the one you once met. well, Gitae never was who you wanted him to be, but you hold a hope that he would change, the man you had foolishly believed could leave his cruelty behind. this man was the beast you'd been running from for what felt like a lifetime.

“who is he? well, who is he, who gave you the right to think you can leave me?” Gitae's voice was a roar in your ears, but you could barely hear it over the pounding of your heart. tears streamed down your face uncontrollably, the fear and frustration, the endless cycle of suffering, spilling out of you in heavy sobs.

“who is that guy huh? answer me, bitch!” his grip shifted from your hair to your shoulders, shaking you violently. his fingers dug into your skin with brutal force, but you fought against the pain. you fought him, digging your nails into his hands and pushing him away with what little strength you had left.

“this is not a guy!” your voice cracked as you shouted, your words breaking through the sobs. “not a guy…” you repeated, softer now, your voice barely a whisper. your trembling hands instinctively moved to your stomach, as if trying to shield the life that was just beginning there. but you immediately pulled your hand away.

but it was too late.

Gitae’s gaze darkened as it followed your movement, and you could almost see the moment of realization flicker across his face. he noticed. he noticed. thought raced through your mind, panic rising like a wave ready to crash over you. you staggered back, your body pressing against the wall behind you, heart hammering as Gitae took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

“say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and menacing, but no longer a shout. he tilted his head, a cruel curiosity dancing in his eyes. the shift in his demeanor only terrified you more. you could see the gears turning in his mind, calculating, deciding your fate in a way that would forever bind you to him.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. walls felt like they were closing in on you as his massive hand cupped your face, thumb slowly brushing over your tear-streaked cheek. his other hand dropped down, gently, almost tenderly, resting on your stomach.

“how far?” his voice was dangerously calm now, a whisper in your ear. the gentleness in his touch was jarring, terrifying. you could feel his breath on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i-i… i don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “i just did a pregnancy test… a-and it showed... two lines…” you hiccuped, your whole body shaking as Gitae’s hand pressed you harder against the wall, but his touch on your stomach remained soft, disturbingly so. his palm rested there as though he was claiming something far greater than just you.

two lines. you could barely process the words as they slipped from your lips, the reality of your situation crashing down on you.

the future you’d envisioned — escaping from him, finding freedom — was shattered. those two lines changed everything, tied you to him in a way you could never have anticipated. you could feel the monster before you shifting, adjusting to this new reality, this new form of control.

the silence that followed your confession was suffocating. Gitae’s fingers lightly traced your belly as though imagining the life growing inside. he wasn’t shouting anymore. his rage had dissolved into something worse, something calculating, a dark smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“you’re carrying my child,” he murmured, his voice now a chilling purr. “that’s good. very good.”

the look in his eyes was no longer just anger - it was possession.

“now you have no reason to run. ever.”

his hand, still resting on your stomach, tightened slightly, enough to send a clear message. you were his now — completely and utterly. any hope of escape, of breaking free from this nightmare, slipped further away with every passing second.

and yet, somewhere deep inside you, a spark of defiance remained. you couldn’t let this be the end. not for you, and certainly not for the child inside of you.

as Gitae’s hand lingered, still caressing your stomach with a twisted sort of affection, you knew you had no choice but to fight. maybe not today, not now — but soon.

you need find a way. you had to.

because some mistakes couldn’t be undone — but they could be escaped.

[alexiapp]

Next Step With You

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and Alexia finally have the talk about Kids…

Note: I’ve been gone for so fucking long because of how insanely busy i’ve been but, i’m totally hoping on posting constantly and not keeping empty promises 😭..i’ve had an insane amount of writers block also so keep that in mind!! This isn’t my best work but it’ll have to do !

You never thought that you would be in love. You thought you were unlovable or maybe incapable of finding your ‘true one’. You presumed that maybe it was your strong personality or your high standards that caused these problems. You always had trouble with relationships, and had a couple horror stories when it came to your past love life. You always that you were the problem, until you met Alexia. She made you feel something that you never thought you would be able to experience. You felt giddy inside, and content. There wasn’t a dull moment between her and I.

Alexia was charming, and very charismatic and she also has a strong personality which drew you into her. Recently you guys have been entering a new chapter of your relationship. This year would be marking the 4th year you have been together. You couldn’t see your life without Alexia, it just wouldn’t feel right. You wanted to bring new milestones to you guys relationship. Everything you envision had Alexia in it.

You wanted to add an addition to you guys relationship badly..You wanted to build a family between the two of you. You only started feeling this way until you saw how attentive Alexia was towards kids, it always made you wonder how she’d be if you guys had kids. You knew deep down in your heart that Alexia would be an amazing mother, but you didn’t know if Alexia wanted to take that next step with you or if she was even ready. It’s something you’ve been hesitant to bring up, these loud thoughts always stayed in the back of your mind. You don’t wanna scare her away..imagine how crazy you’d looked if she didn’t feel the same way..i mean what if she thought you were a total nut case. This steered you away from Alexia, making you kind of cold and distance.

This situation made you second guess a lot of things. You took an immature approach, usually the average person would talk it out with there significant other in an healthy manner, but you being you, were quite stubborn and decided to isolate yourself. You started declining her offers to go out when she put the idea out there. You guys once long text messages turned into short and brief on your end no matter how hard the poor woman tried to carry the conversation.

You assumed Alexia didn’t notice how cold you’ve been ..Oh boy were you wrong. She was was in deep stress her mind was constantly racing wondering what she could’ve possibly done wrong. Trying to remember moments where she could’ve possibly said the wrong thing that might’ve hurt or offended you in any way. She was determined to get to the bottom of this and handle it quickly, she genuinely couldn’t take not having you around any longer.

After settling down and drowning in her thoughts she decided the only way to get your attention is by catching you at in unexpected moment. She decided she’d venture to your apartment without giving you any head’s up. She didn’t want you to find another excuse to brush her off and ignore her, she wanted to talk to you and get you back. She was determined and ready to do whatever it takes.

The determined blonde quickly grabbed her phone and car keys headed straight for your flat ready to corner you.

You were brought out of a day dream when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You got up and walked over to your door with confusion written all over your face. You weren’t expecting a visitor or any packages. Shock washed over you when you were met with a very agitated and worried blonde. The last person you wanted to see.

Your once confused face was replaced with a very shocked expression.

“Um..hi?” you muttered out in surprise at what you were faced with.

“Why have you been ignoring me” Said the hazel eyed woman as she pushed through into your apartment door.

“i..i haven’t been, i’ve just been very busy i-“ you said as you staggered your words.

“Don’t like to me, you know how much i hate when people lie” the blonde woman said cutting you off in your lousy excuse as to why you haven’t been very present in you guys relationship.

“You’ve been brushing me off, you’ve been texting me less and less. I want to know what i did wrong so i could fix it”. She said with fury in her voice.

“There’s nothing you can do, to stop me from me feeling how i feel right now Alexia” You said nervously.

“Then what is it! I need to know what it is so we can fix it. I want us to fix this” she said waving her hand between you and her.

“I feel like if i tell you what it is, our relationship would be over” you said with a meek expression.

“amor whatever it is we can try and get past it, i just have to know” she said gently as she walked towards you grabbing your hands as a form of comfort. She could tell you were nervous about what you wanted to say next.

“There’s things that i want to do in our relationship that you might not be ready for Alexia, and i don’t want that to jeopardize what we have.” You said conflicted on weather you should open up to her or not

“Hey, no matter what is bothering you, we can fix it and hopefully move past it..i promise” she said as she rubbed her thumb across my hand.

“I want us to have kids..i want to have kids with you, and i didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off i didn’t want you to think i’m so crazy person. I see myself starting a family with you..” You said with fear in your voice. You were almost quivering with fear on how she would react. You were shut down when you heard the woman in front of you hysterically laugh.

Oh no…she thought you were a joke, she must think you’re a loser..you told yourself, emotions bathing in a pool insecurity. You broke your hand away from her turning away in rejection. “ I knew this would happen, i just knew you wouldn’t take me seriously” you said with hurt and regret in your voice.

You turned your body away from her not wanting her to see how hurt you truly were.

“I’m sorry, come here” she said trying to make you turn towards her.

“i’m not laughing at you about what you said, i’m laughing because why wouldn’t you think i want that also?” she said chuckling lightly. She placed her fairly large hands on her face cupping your cheeks softly and said “why would i want to do that. There isn’t anyone i wouldn’t rather start a family with” she said shaking her head at your ridiculousness.

“I just thought that maybe you’d think that we’re moving to fast, i was just scared” you said looking into her hazel eyes.

“vale, firstly their isn’t anyway i could see life without you..let alone my future with you not being in it, if you told me how you felt ahead of time this wouldn’t be our outcome” she said has she brushed her thumb against your cheekbone

“Amor, you have to communicate with me when you’re feeling this vale ?” she said shaking her head to try to get me to understand. Which i nodded in response.

I leaned in and pecked the blonde’s lips, you were suddenly thrown over her shoulder, making you giggle in surprise “Let’s practice making that baby sí!” as she carried you to your apartment bedroom.

I’ll grammar check later !!

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter VI — "lips & hips."

Deep down.

Toc/cw: mdni!!!!!!!!! MATURE CONTENT!! Kissing. Cuddling. Unprotected shower sex(don't worry, men have unrealistic birth control). Fingering. Biting. Knotting. Grinding/humping. Orgasm w/o penentration(?) Idk how to cw. Orgasms x2(f. Receiving) hwa is a moaner and loud. Overestimming. Slight ooc hwa. Seonghwa is a hard dom for 00.2 sentences. slight angst. Crying. Love confession sort of. Fluff. I probably forgot some (I'll check later).

Pet names/nns: angel, mega, omega(yours) hwa(seonghwas) joongie(hongjoongs)

Wc: 12.3k

The Morning is already tiring, you're a jelly mess as seonghwa helps guide you to the bathroom. You're hardly carrying yourself as soon as you cross the threshold of your door, exhausted and spent.

Your legs ache and seonghwa mentions how they have to stop putting your knees over their shoulders so you aren't so sore. How the hell does he know? Seonghwas hands guide your hips, pushing you forward. You stop to watch wooyoung beg to be let pass,

Yunho leans against it to block you from view like some type of bodyguard. The sight is sorrowful and funny, wooyoung is begging and as an older member, yunho has the upper hand. Seonghwa is urging your wobbly legs forward before you can say anything.

Finally you're standing at the base of the wide tub, watching a pink bath bomb dissolve. The glass doors are slid to the side so you can step inside. Petals floating to the surface as the water turns a soft pink. It's cute. Your smile captures seonghwas fancy.

“Yeosang put that in,” he hums, closing the door. Of course he did, yeosang is your squishy love bug. From years of sharing hotel rooms and bathroom routines that consist of you two brushing your teeth at the sink and wearing face masks.

You, teaching him about how your products work for your own skin compared to his. He already knew but his small smile as he watches you explain tells you he didn't mind listening. You smile at the memory of it all, the isolated heating keeps all the warm air in. You're beginning to sweat at how hot it is in the bathroom.

Seonghwa decides to help you strip, of course, he loves playing caretaker. He asks before he does- having you sit on the edge of the tub while he tilts your hips up to slide off the briefs. You groan at the twist. More sore from the angle. A sorry smile stretches across seonghwas features, tossing the briefs in the dirty laundry basket.

You have half a mind to be embarrassed, but your shirt somehow falls over your areas and blocks him from looking. Just as you realize your shirt needs to come off next. So sudden, your stomach is twisting intensely, the feeling is familiar. But not so much so you realize what it is.

Seonghwa bends down in front of you, you don't move, you hardly make a sound. He tilts your chin up towards him with his pointer finger to get you to notice him. Leaning his hands on either side of you, against the tub. “I can leave if that's what you want.” He says sincerely. You shake your head quickly. His scent pushes out to calm you.

And for some reason you now feel completely bendable to whatever he wants you to do. You know that feeling. When you got it with yunho and even as soon as hongjoong made it obvious what he wanted.

Your hands reach out to grab him, pulling him close. Before you realize what you're doing, your mouth is attached to his neck, just resting there for a moment. Hands kneading and twisting into his hair pass the dark locks. Seonghwa laughs gently. His pulse thumping where your lips meet. He twists his arms behind your back. letting you know he's there, even when your scent begins to shift and grow heavier.

When it gets sweeter and leaves him swallowing thickly. And just for a minute you calm down at him being there. Calm down when his neck is latched between your lips like a leech. You place a kiss on the spot after unhooking from it. You don't want to let go of seonghwa. So, as a way to say that, you wrap your arms around his neck. Holding him for a moment.

He lets you, and God- does it make your heart skip. Seonghwa, who usually pushes away any super affectionate touching, is letting you latch onto him like some touch starved girl. Which, you feel as if you are for the moment. His embrace eases that feeling. Tough and soft at the same time.

“I love you” you mumble, sincerity dripping off your words. He hums, rubbing his thumb up and down on your back. “I love you” he inhales softly as he pulls back, your hands strain to let him go. He looks you in the eyes so deeply, you have a hard time not feeling the sincerity of them. “I love you more” you grin. Giddy. He laughs gently, a soothing sound.

He doesn't argue, but he has a look that tells you he loves you the most. Lovesick and sweet, if his eyes could. They'd be heart shaped whenever he looks at you. He helps you take off your shirt, playing with the tip of it to avoid peeping. You subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself.

It's not that you're shy being naked. Actually. Yes, it's exactly that. Wearing revealing stage outfits and performing in front of millions is nothing when you're naked in front of seonghwa. He's the only eyes you care about at the moment. Yet he doesn't seem to care about your nakedness. Tossing your shirt away with the briefs. He turns back to you. “Want me to wash your hair?”

You almost laugh at the innocence of it. Your face lights up instead. “Yes please” he helps you step in, telling you to lean on him for guidance. You watch seonghwa take a seat outside the bathtub. His knees must ache from the hard floor. Frowning, you pull your knees to your chest. “Aren't you getting in?” You swirl the petals around, they follow in sporadic patterns after your fingertips.

It's photographic, you look very imaginary to seonghwa, eyes wide with that sparkle, beckoning him to join you. If he's the sexiest member, then you're the most ethereal. He blinks, once, then twice. The question is odd but he wants to indulge you. “no- I'm getting in” he breathily says, quickly. He nods to hide it, gulping back the lump in his throat.

Close proximity like this makes his heart skip. You aren't usually so needy for affection. Seonghwa has known that about you for years. Yet, you want him as close. It's intimate. It's strange. But, he loves you. So he doesn't care if you'll be embarrassed about it later. He likes when you're needy. He knows you're still in a different mindset. A mindset that's almost truth-inducing. Letting your thoughts come to the surface and have light shed on them.

He strips his black shirt off first. Neatly, he folds it and lays it off to the side of the counter. Back turned towards you. Any jewelry, which has already been taken off earlier from cooking. He hears the slap of the water as you move, turning and swishing the water around with your body.

As soon as he's done unbuttoning his pants and stripping everything. He's lowering himself into the spot across from you. The water is hot, not burning, but soothingly hot. You've turned away from him to give him decency.

“Hand me the shampoo” he tells you. You do as he says, leaning up to grab it on the edge. It's an inexpensive but very trustworthy brand, not really scented. Your fingers caress as you hand it to him over your shoulder. “Should I wash yours?” You ask.

Seonghwa looks up from the lather on his hands to the back of your head. “I washed my hair this morning,” he hums. Fingers threading through the top of your scalp to bubble the shampoo. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Why did you get in with me then?” You say back. Now you wonder why you even asked him to join you. Heat of the moment? You can't see it but he's smiling at your pouty tone. “‘Cause you asked” he answers, his forehead creasing as he focuses on working his fingers through your hair, rubbing the base of your neck. You shudder, pulling your knees closer. A reactive thing.

“You didn't have too” you huff, leaning your head back towards him when he pulls gently to spread it through the top of your head. He stands up to grab the showerhead from his side of the bathtub. “I wanted to,” he simply says. Your heart leaps. Heat creeping to your ears, should that even affect you that much?.. no. It really shouldn't. You're sharing a bath together. You jump at the sound of running water.

You're in the bath. Together. Seonghwa leans the shower head against your hair. It's not hot, a bit cold, you know it's because he didn't want to burn you. You shiver at the coldness. The squeak of the knob protests as seonghwa turns it warmer. Ever so keen on your reactions, so very attentive.

The prickle of tears pokes the corner of your eyes. Now you feel- well, you're crying. Why, though? You don't really know. You don't think you've ever been this doted on- Don't know the last time someone took care of you. Rather than you taking care of yourself. Actually. You don't know the last time you let someone take care of you.

Yes, how could you be so dull. Many times, your members have tried. And jongho? He's so obvious about it. You've got idols coming up to ask you if you're dating based on the attention he shows you. He wants to take care of you so badly. He takes your baggage at the airport but stops when you say no.

He gives you his jacket whenever he has one. Even letting you hang back with him instead of participating, lets you lean on him when you're anxious before an interview. He lets you get your way. Let's you use his card even when you have your own, so adamant about proving he can take care of it.

And yunho, you can't forget him dropping everything to help you, can't forget he willingly came to see you and stopped your clingy ex from making a scene, even made you laugh to cheer you up. You obviously can't forget the way he looks at you like you're the world and everything great about it. And he even buys you food when he gets his own, tells you all the time he just got extra.

Who claims his spot next to you any place and time you have to sit for interviews, said so because he likes how it makes you look so small. Maybe you really are delusional- and Hongjoong. You love joong so much. From many nights spent together working until dawn on songs and repeating lines.

To being the only trainees in the entire company, two trainees who didn't speak the same language, and yet still finding a way to communicate. For years together. You know he works hard, knows he doesn't have to see you every morning before he checks out to the studio.

But he does anyway. You know he's got a lot on his shoulders, yet he still makes time to check up on you. Include you in his projects. Lets you listen to all of his demos. Takes your feedback to heart. Encourages you to get a producer tag. Goes as far as to give you any of his passwords so you can use his production aquitment.

Even buying clothes he knows you like the texture of just so your hands cling to him more. You're beginning to realize the same goes for yeosang, purposefully leaving his hoodies around so you wear them and smell like him. Even that first moment yeosang looked at you wearing his shirt after he asked you too, his sharp eyes clouding.

You realize none of them had asked that before. Was it because they were too scared to ask you? You have always been private with your affections before lately, it had been drilled into you not too. Somehow, yeosang was the first person to ask and he never mentioned it again, never hinted at anything about you wearing his clothes ever.

Now, he's much more touchy and vocal. His pretty mouth always complimenting you under his breath. Eyes always scanning your features when you passionately talk. Letting you hold his hands and never pulls away. You don't know if the sudden change was because of your assigned sex but you believe he just got more comfortable knowing you're okay with it, knowing you're reciprocating it.

With all of them being there. And you are. You're finally able to let someone else take care of you.

And even lately. Mingi is so clingy, you love that type of attention even if you don't say it. Mingi who has given you space because the guys told him he's too rough, who's waiting his turn patiently- when you know he's so eager and never ever patient. Mingi, when he gets food and gives you the first bite.

In your comments every live you do with atiny. Pokes and prods for any type of affection and praise. Uses his aegyo to get whatever he wants from you. Says he'd marry you because you're a full package and you take care of him well. His words, unprovoked.

When asked to choose between all the members. He said your name asap. When stranded on an island. He said he'd take you. And, you find that hilarious, cause he could have taken anything else, water, a boat, food, a way to get out, but he said he'd take you.

San, you'd never forget how he follows you backstage everywhere. Whines whenever you spend too much time with another idol. Clings to you when you're getting your face done because he knows you can't shrug him off, or you'll mess up your makeup.

When he stares at you, and it's so often, you have to tell him to stop before someone gets the wrong impression. When San ‘accidently’ scares other idols off because well- he's built compared to how he was when he was a couple of ages ago. When not long ago he wasn't able to pick you up, and now he does it whenever he wants too. And you let him cause his grip is so tight and his smile is so big you can't help but give in.

Not excluding how he acts up on stage, or during your parts together, he can't get that sly grin off his face, or won't stop staring at your lips when you're singing- or rapping right in front of him.

Aswell as when wooyoung clings to you, wraps his strong arms around you and doesn't let you go until you give him what he wants. Says you're his soulmate, even when you mention yeosang or san, he says you're his other half, and he can't live in a world with only half of himself.

Even happily leans in to almost kiss you in front of a crowd just because you pouted at him. Begs for your attention when you don't respond to his questions, even if he said it two seconds prior. Literally can't breathe without you in his proximity sometimes.

His words, not yours, he said it so boldly behind the scenes you two had together. Like it was nothing. Woo, who you know watches your solo fancams. Cause you caught him once. And the only thing he said was “I'm supporting my girl friend” grinning so proudly and pretended he didn't hint at the connotation behind it. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman” you'd casually say, shutting the door and cutting off any more communication.

Wow, for the first time in years. Maybe you're realizing they haven't sought you out —even though they love you— because you were pushing them away. Not giving them the time of day and continuously denying their affections. You did notice, but maybe you pretended it wasn't true. Didn't think you could have a happy ending with them if you went through with it. But they're here, and they're even telling you they love you, they've been telling you. because they do, they love you.

Seonghwa is proving that to you right now. Feeding you, bathing you, caressing you, letting you hug on him so much so you know wooyoung would be jealous. Taking care of you. Seonghwa pulls his hand back from your scalp, the sorrowful smell is coming from you and he's starting to rapidly think he did something wrong. His hand lands on your shoulder, his head peeking past your hair as he bends forward, water sloshes when he does so.

“What's wrong?” He says so sweetly, your tears begin to flow the most now. You hate crying, why do you do it so much nowadays? “Nothing, I'm just- I'm happy” you huff out, swiping at your tears as you lean your head back on his shoulder. “Oh Angel,” he coos, grabbing your chin, his thumb rubs a soothing stripe, his fingers encasing your neck. “I know it's something else” he stares between your eyes. You feel embarrassed, of course he was gonna know. Of course he's noticing it's something else, cause seonghwas got a perfect sense of smell when it comes to you.

“I'm sorry I'm noticing so late” you cry gently, lip trembling. “I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner, I was scared” you turn away when seonghwas hand falls away, rubbing up and down your arm. “Scared you wouldn't like me back, I was - upset cause- I knew- I thought you all wouldn't be okay with it.. I wanted to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. All of you. I didn't know I could have that.” You sob through words.

Seonghwa would say this sudden rush of emotion is partially because of your heat, it's also you. Something you've built up and finally is popping due to some tlc. His arms wrap around your waist, maneuvering you to face him. You let him do so, lighter in the pink water. In all your nakedness, your completely vulnerable in front of him.

Telling him exactly how you feel and trusting him with it. He places two heavy palms against your face, caging your cheeks in. He stares, and stares. So many thoughts, words, and things he could do in the moment. “I've wanted you for so long” he says instead. Pushing out a memory from years ago to the surface.

“When we were both younger- Especially when I was first joining, you were the first person that I wanted to see most often.” He tugs on his bottom lip. “I thought you were the prettiest person ever. Cool too. I had never seen someone like you before. I thought “is she from a different place?” I didn't know you could exist. I thought you were something else entirely.'' he nods into his words, you hiccup.

Clenching your palms around his wrist tenderly. “I've been in love with you since I met you. I would have followed you anywhere. I still will. I’ll gladly share, it just means they notice how amazing you are. And so does atiny. You're worth everything to those seven guys out there. And me. I promise, you could have been decades late and i still would have said yes.” maybe Seonghwa is spilling his guts here. But how your eyes sparkle with unshedded tears, face so puffy and lips so dainty, he feels the need to be honest.

Images flash over the years, you in different hair colors. Outfits, stages. He's got everything about you memorized. You're addicting and your personality gives him whiplash. Good whiplash. The type that makes him so flustered on camera if he catches you watching him talk.

The type that makes him feel so bold on stage, letting loose. The type of good whiplash he's getting from watching you. Honest for the first time in years. He loves this, he shouldn't, but he does. He loves holding you, loves having you lean on him emotionally. Just so he can tell you everything he completely means.

He wants to show the world he loves you. Tell the world he wants you to be his partner for life. He wants to be your mate. He knows he can't have that luxury yet, you're hardly even dating and you're still both so very young.

Got many years ahead, yet he wants it sooner than ever. He knows he can't show you off like that or else it's a scandal and the media would flip.

Your hands surround his face, holding his jaw. Your eyes slot close as you pull him into your puffy lips, telling him everything he needs to know with your fragile kiss. He breaths into you, capturing you into him ever so gradually. When you pull away, he's leaning his head into your neck and you do the same. Staying there for a second. Pushing his scent out for you.

There's no need to talk when seonghwa threads his hands through the rest of your hair to evenly spread the conditioner. You're scrubbing your body free from the actions of this week. You're feeling cleaner, but more exposed without yunho, or hongjoongs scent on you. Thankfully, yunho and hongjoong have a thing for biting.

The marks are evidence that they were there with you. Your finger passes over the scabbing bite on your inner thigh. Seonghwa peppers your shoulder with kisses when he pulls your hair over to rinse it. Soft and innocent. The feeling is homely and docile. He pats your hip to have you stand up so you can both rinse off the remnants of the bath water and soap.

The shower head connects to the top of the tub. You watch the marble pattern of white and pink drain from under your feet, letting the warmth from the new water beat down on your shoulders. Seonghwa is just outside the water, standing behind you and moving your hair around to rinse it. You pull it from his hand, turning to face him.

“aren't you cold?” You ask. Squeezing the ends. He shakes his head. “No..” he trails off looking away, too shy to meet your gaze. Although you both are naked, having been in the bath for a bit longer than you should have, he's still trying to be respectful and avoid looking at you inappropriately. “Liar” you laugh, sticking your hand out to grab him and pull him under the stream with you. He closes his eyes with a smile, water cascading down his face. You're closer because the stream of water doesn't spread far. You squeeze the last soapy drops out of your hair.

Something about seonghwa just letting the water fall over him has you staring. Water that flicks off his closed eyelashes and drips over the curve of his lips. When he pulls his hands up to push his hair back. You watch his biceps flex. His lips part to blow away the water that drips into his mouth. Missing you by a centimeter. Like some type of commercial, seonghwa looks beautiful just pushing his hair back. His eyes part, as if he feels you staring.

A piece of his black hair flicking over his forehead, his eyebrow raises. Your lip tugs up, caught red handed. “sorry” you bite your lip looking away. “You're staring” he blatantly says. Sharp eyes scanning you, he steps back from the shower stream so you can have it. “I know, it's hard not too” you mumble, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, closing your eyes under the patter of water.

You flick your hair once, then throw it over your back. Seonghwas hand finds your waist, flat as he palms it around your back, tugging you into him so you both are under the water. His humming is a buzz against your chest. You part your eyes through the water, lacing your hands around his neck. It's cute, it's nice. Not something you'd ever think you'd indulge in. You flicker water over his face when you blow it out of your mouth.

Apologizing quietly as he closes his eyes and grimaces. “sorry” you swipe your hand against his face, he's acting as if you spat on him. You laugh when he turns away from your palm. “You spat all over me” he groans, still holding onto you. Both hands this time pressed against your back. “no I didn't, it's just water” you gleam, lips parting as your smile grows wider.

“‘Just water’ that came out of your mouth” the smile behind his words has you knowing he's playing with you. “Are you saying my mouth is gross?” you go to pull back, playing as petty as you can. His hands shoot up to lock you back into him, hands holding your arms there. A singular one of his eyes pops open.

“No, Your mouth is perfect,” he says clearly, leaning down to peck your lips. You pull away before he can, his lips landing half on your cheek. “Why kiss me if my mouth is gross?” You huff, stomping your foot. Seonghwa doesn't pull back, as if intentionally meaning to land there. He trails a kiss over your jaw, down the junction of your neck, and right over your primary glands. You tilt your head for him. Basking in the way his lips part the droplets of water on you.

“Fine, I'll kiss you everywhere else then.” He mumbles against your collarbone as his head dips. Your hands thread through his wet hair. Breathing heavier when he starts sucking. Already creating a hickey right above your collarbone, opposite of where Yunho bit you, he's nipping lightly with his two front teeth, teasingly. His hand trails, water cascading down his fingertips. His fingertips just scan the plump of your butt. And move over your hips. He kneads the skin there, dipping his fingertips to pull you further into him.

You're already beginning to shift your thighs. Needy, so needy. Seonghwas left hand slides down to lightly swipe your inner thigh so they open. You part them, sighing heavily when he pushes his digits through your heat, already pushing two into your wet core. He pays no mind to your clit, knowing the lack of stimulation will tease you.

Slowly dragging his fingers in and out, until the tip of them is in and he's drilling them back up. You wiggle, trying to hook anything against your most sensitive area, it's not enough. Your whimper has seonghwa smiling against the junction of your neck, he trails back up, sloppy kisses as he sucks and leaves ribbons of red splotches. He kisses your jaw and hovers just over your lips.

You want to lean up to catch his lips in yours, you whimper again when his fingers dig into your hip. You begin to unlatch yourself from his shoulder to trail your hands somewhere else. One hard flick of his wrist against your insides has your eyes clenching close, he stops not a second after, and you wiggle at the loss sensation building.

“don't move,” he says with a heavy tone, staring down at your expressions. So close, he's teasing you with his lips. “if you move, you don't get me” he pinches your chin between his fingers. Squishing your cheek with the hand that was just on your hip. He works his fingers slowly again. His palm slapping against your bud. You twitch forward into him. Trying to plant your feet so you aren't moving. His eyes dig for every reaction you have, soft drops of water trailing down his face and into yours.

It's hard to reach a high like this, but you're so desperate, he knows that. Hanging off every curve of his finger, every bend of his digits as they slip into you. Getting wetter with each slap of his palm against your bundle. So close, yet so far, you're not there yet, but you're trying to be.

The water is an added stimulus, dripping down both of your faces, and his palm. Flicking back on you and mixing with your slick. You're clenching. Trying to push that high closer. One more prod of seonghwas finger has your gasp getting stuck in your throat. A third finger slipping into you. He wiggles it with the other two, the fit is tight, you spread open further to take it. Seonghwa groans at that, glad at you presenting and opening further for him and just him in the moment.

You clench down again, and almost as soon as he stuck it in, the tightness loosened with more of your slick. He watches for every twitch of your eyebrow, every quiet moan. His eyes lidded. No attention to his aching cock straining against his stomach. Your fingers keep him grounded. Tugging at the end of his long hair. He gives in when he looks down at your wet lips.

Taking you into him with a singular breath. He moans into your mouth, as you do him, tugging and pulling into each other. His tongue slips in, pressing against your own. You taste how he'd imagine, so sweet, so willing. His fingers stop their antics.

It's enough prep for seonghwa. You clench one final time as he pulls them out, swallowing your whines. He pulls away to suck on your exposed glands. His hands falling away to grip your thighs, he tugs once to signal he's pulling you up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, lifting your thigh up against his hip so he can pull you in. He lifts you with ease, slotting down to his knees in the tub.

The press of his cock slides between you, it has you arching into it. Hard and throbbing for attention against your clit. You want it. “Hwa” you whine, grinding up into him. He slaps his hand down on your thigh, you jump into him. Continuing his assault on your neck with a strangled moan. Sloppily, his teeth scan over your gland, your head falls slack. You're puddy.

When his teeth are there, you're so tempted to beg him to mark you, mate you in your most delicate area. “Please hwa,” you grind up again, the ridge of his cock pressed between your folds, thighs flexing against his hips. Holding onto him close, he doesn't spank you that time. “Go on, use me” he whispers, teasing his teeth against your gland. You grind up again, with the help of his hands.

“Should I? Take you right here, make you mine.” His tone is heavy with desire. Your clit throbs and you buck, letting his cock catch against you. You clench around nothing, not yet filled, but so close to cumming from his fingers moments ago. You sob “Yes, make me yours'' you bite down on your tongue.

The water is nothing compared to the sensation of seonghwas cock burying between your folds and teasing your hole with every stroke, his hips stuttering up into you at your words. He knows you don't mean it, knows you're caught in the heat of the moment. Everything you say can be taken with a grain of salt. You twitch forward, grinding down, your clit drags against the top vein on his dick. His tongue lapping at the spot on your neck.

He helps you, guides you to press down with his fingers digging across the top of your thighs. Soft breaths at the humping of you. Your mouth falls over his shoulder, biting against the same spot you had him in earlier. Whimpering against his skin. He knows this is torture, for both of you, but he can't stop. You feel so good like this, and he knows as soon as he slips in, it's gonna be hard for him to wait for you to adjust.

“Hwa, I want you inside, please, please alpha” you beg. He doesn't answer. Your climax is arriving without you noticing it, gasping into his shoulder. His teeth scrape against your glands as he moves to bite just below it, making it prominent in the spot he chose. His jaw locks, you stutter up. A painful and sudden orgasm as you cum from just humping against him.

You huff and pant. Seonghwas hand prys between the both of you, gripping his cock tightly. He hisses, lightly guiding it back and forth so it presses against your hole.

You're still coming down when he pushes inside, moaning into your shoulder. He fits all the way to the hilt with a single drag of his hips upwards. Letting your walls flutter. You whine at the fill, he's big- big like yunho, display of veins that throb when he fully sheaths inside, you tremble from the extra stimulation. Panting against seonghwas ear.

His large hands pry against your thighs, and move up to your hips. He swings them forward for you when you lean against his chest. Breath stuttering. “‘s too much” you gasp, whimpering at the overstimulation. His head falls back. His eyes flutter close at the way you wrap him in, lips parting to breath. “You can take it” he bites back, “I know you can” his hands fall over each of your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible.

The water bill is gonna be high. But Seonghwa doesn't think about it. The water is just an extra sensation when the best one is your cunt so tightly sucking him in. He moans once more when you pull yourself forward and back. Helping him with the swirl of your hips. Still begging for more when you just came. He tugs his lip down into his teeth.

Might as well get you here if you're both being cleaned off. His thighs snap up against you as he buries back in again. Cock pounding against your cervix. A heavy rhythm of water sloshing between you two. Your hands pooling over his lean shoulders as you fall into him with every hard thrust. Your first orgasm is gone but your second one is building.

Seonghwa can feel it, you pulse and twitch. Squishy walls pulling him in and attempting to milk him. His cock throbs every so often. His hands pulling your ass forward with every pound of his pelvis. Your whimpers are dragging him on. Your lips pressing against his own scent glands.

The sting of his thighs aching so wonderfully as he feels himself building up with you. Your mouth latches against the gland, cutting off your moans. He snaps up, and your teeth drag against his skin. “Come on angel, I know you want to,” he moans. “bite me- auh- mark me as yours,” he whimpers, his eyes clenching. You moan too. Cunt clenching in response. The tip hitting your cervix. It has him airily chuckling and huffing curse words. “do it, do it-I want you to do it, ah- shit. ‘make you the happiest girl in the world” he bucks, knees sliding forward as he does so.

You must be tempted to do so. Your teeth prod into his flesh, not yet breaking skin, not even enough to leave a mark. Your hips swirl forward messily. Clit catching against the small patch of rough hair he has growing against his lower stomach. “I'll do you good omega, take care of you every night like the perfect mate-ah” his words trail off into a strangled moan.

“No- mmm- protection like this, no shitty- fuck- birth control, whenever we want” he stutters up, water dripping off his face as he turns it down to look at you on his shoulder. Mouth lulled open and eyes closed tightly shut. “hope it takes- give you some- shit-” you clench again, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips as he swirls you forward, using all his strength to pound his cock up into you. “Hwa- give me it’ all of it- plea- ah!” You get cut off as he pulls all the way out to just pound back into you. “im gonna give you it-” his hips snap up as yours snap down, full weight being pressed onto him.

“wanna pump you full of my cum until you're leaking- until you smell like me all the time- fuck- give you my all” he ruts up into you, knot beginning to grow. Watching the way you suck him in. Images of you every night, waiting for him floods his imagination. He has you here now, in the shower. Desperate to have you cumming hard, and marking him as yours. Muffling your moans in his neck.

“‘m gonna cum soon hwa-” you pull up to tell him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, he watches the water drip from your forehead and over your lips. “I want to mate- please- please mate me- meant to be yours- all of yours” you whine out between heavy pants and moans, staring back up into his eyes. Water pouring over your features as you struggle to swing your hips forward. He wants it so bad. Wants to make you his and give you everything you want, spoil you like his perfect little angel and have you whenever he wants.

The tense feeling in his stomach pops, his knot shooting out to interlock inside you. Hot spurts of cum as well splatters against your silky walls. You twitch and come just as quickly after, he moans into you as he falls back over your shoulder. He bites hard, doesn't even recognize where he does, but he knows it's not your primary spot. His hips rutting into you as he guides your hips for you. His free hand shoots out to hold onto the side of the tub as he doubles over into you. You wheeze loudly, biting into his shoulder. Hard enough to bleed, you twitch just as hard. Pulsing against the warmth surrounding your cunt.

He chants your name as you drain the last of his energy and cum. Biting on his tongue to quiet down. The water beats down on his back and falls over your face. Droplets that are clear and showcase the climax you just went through. He pants hard over the bite, opening his eyes gently to peer down at it. So close, so damn close to piercing your sensitive spot.

His knot stops growing in the quietness, the pattern of water padding down your back, legs still interlocked around him to keep him inside you. Intentionally or not, seonghwa wants it to be. He meant it, he wants his cum to stick and leave you full of him, his scent, his being.

He digs his nose into your neck, smelling you deeply in his lungs. His hands are tight around your back. Palms spread wide to keep you close. Breathing in tandem as you both come down from your highs. For a second he lets his hand reach out to pull up the bath plug so the water fills the tub. Water drips from the tip of your heads. Chest to chest.

He can feel your heartbeat thumping loudly. His knot is definitely thicker and bigger than yunhos. It's hard to even move because of it. A heavy and thick weight in the pit of your stomach that presses towards your clit when you wiggle.

You whimper from the sensitivity. Seonghwa Hushes you softly. “I know, it's a tight fit” he groans with you, pulling back to glance down. You're not bleeding, which is a good thing, you shouldn't be. Seonghwa had prepped you enough. It's still a hard squeeze for you. He avoids the connection with his eyes.

It's not a good idea for him to pop another boner when he's still inside. Your arms fall around his chest, pulling him back closer. Face pressed against his left peck. Your eyes are squinted close, lips pouting. Seonghwa smooths the damp hair from your face, caging your body into him with his other hand.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning down to see you. His eyebrows are furrowed, your eyes part, nodding tiredly. “‘m good. perfect.” you pout your lips out for a kiss, seonghwa indulges you. Cupping your cheek in his palm and wrapping his top lip into yours. You sigh into the kiss. Seonghwa fucks hard and fast, your hips ache so sweetly. Although you tried to move as much as you could, you let seonghwa use you like you did him. And you're happy he did, cause you'd be aching again. His knot isn't as tight anymore, a slow deflate that makes you miss it.

As it goes, you lean yourself into seonghwa. Appreciation lingers off your lips when you kiss up into him, and your other arm curls around to land behind his neck, playing with the hair there. His hands rub up and down your arms. Comforting you without words. His bottom lip sucking into yours.

Sweet and strong, hints of coffee on his tongue. His eyes part open when he pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth once more. His hands caress down, over your shoulders, spine, lower back, hips, then thighs. His fingers ply the fat at the top and work on massaging his thumbs into the inner part, soothing the twist and ache in them.

“I shoulda been more careful, I'm sorry angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You shake your head into his shoulder. Pulling back enough to kiss the mark you left. “Don't be sorry, I liked it.” you mumble, thoroughly blissed out. The tub sloshes when seonghwa begins to lean back, taking his knees out from under him. He keeps you close. Never breaking the knot in the middle that connects you two.

His hands are soft and comfortable, stroking along your spine and hips as his knot proceeds to shrink. He's already got a cloth between his fingers, rubbing away any spit from your neck and padding the coolest part over your warm forehead. His eyes look down at you with so much adoration you begin to feel shy.

You close your eyes to cut his stare off. The cloth flops down into the water when he lets it go. He thumbs your chin, propping it on his fingers, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip. You blink open your eyes, tiredly. You need a nap. Seonghwa can tell. “Do you want to go back to your room? We can lay around in the living room too. You don't have to, though.” he nods into his words. Caressing your chin with his thumb.

“All of them will be there.” he mumbles the rest, quietly over the running bath water. You nod your head, a smile coming to the surface. “yes, that sounds nice” you huff. A nice comfy couch full of your boys completing surrounding you? Sounds like heaven. “Okay angel, we'll go,” Seonghwa smiles, his eyes guiding to your lips. He lands a soft kiss there.

Seonghwas clothing fits like a glove. After he cleaned you up, and you both rinsed off once more, he took it upon himself to dress you in his comfiest clothing. You would know. You steal the same clothes often. His oversized fluffy white sweater is spacious enough you don't feel claustrophobic. His white loose pants have a silky texture, something you know will give you some freedom to move. Along with your matching bra and undie set, you don't know when he picked it out.

His cheeky grin is something you shake your head at. And lastly, a pair of socks. He must truly be trying to make you look like an angel, cause you're dressed in all white currently.

“Are you trying to make me look like your angel?” You ask, teasingly, leaning your head back against his shoulder, his hand threads through your scalp. Quick kisses placed along your chin, circling around and then your lips. He's dressed in all black, a contrast to you. Seonghwa knows his colors. He grins into his kisses.

“Maybe, or you look good in white” he doesn't give you a proper answer, his hands wrapping around your waist and pushing you forward. The door swings open thanks to you, it's a lot colder in the hallway than it is in the bathroom. Your hand falls over his on your waist, threading your fingers over his. A slight chill crawling down your spine when he pushes you two on.

As soon as the living room comes into view. You're scanning, the only person on the couch is Yeosang. He seems to notice you two, sitting up to lean against the couch, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Seonghwa unwraps his hands from your waist,

Equally confused that all of the guys are gone. You're bouncing on the ball of your feet. Making your way over to yeosang with a shy grin. “Hi” he says, eyes gleaming with fondness. He's reaching his hand out, subtly, fingers wiggling over the arm rest.

You crawl under his lean arms, fully burying yourself into his side and breathing his scent in. You're very comfortable until he turns away, taking his attention with him as he addresses seonghwa. The said male turns to look over his shoulder just as he's about to enter the kitchen.

“Hongjoong told me to have you call” his hand falls over your waist, tugging you gently into him some more. He's telling you he's still here with you, subtly. “What for?” Seonghwas surprised voice echoes from the kitchen.

“Don't know, he didn't say.” he shrugs, turning back to look at you. A small but gentle smile crawling over his lips. “Hey, i missed you” he says in a small way. Shyly pulling his lips into a grin. You lean up to nose his jaw as close as you can reach. “Miss you more” you smile. “Where did the guys go?” You ask, snuggling into his side. His hand comes up to thread through your hair. “Out, they'll be back sometime soon” he answers you, looking down at your quickly relaxing figure.

Hongjoongs got a lot going on lately. It's pressure, a lot like usual. Immediately after you had been taken away for your bath and he got the guys separate from each other. His phone was buzzing, blinking the screen off the kitchen counter. He stalked over and immediately hit the answer button. Someone on the other side who he wasn't expecting. The security he had felt moments ago had been washed away in an instant.

How could schedule conflicts intercept your heat sanctuary booking? It makes no sense to hongjoong as he sits and thinks about it, phone pressed closer to his ear. He's leaning over the counter, head down. He doesn't know what to do exactly, would you want him to find you a different heat sanctuary? Or would you prefer the apartment? Home. The specific one seonghwa had picked out was completely secure, double, triple checked and official. Luxurious too. Most celebrities with omega sex use that specific heat sanctuary. It's completely secure. No press whatsoever.

But this is complicated now. Hongjoong has got to figure something out. He's got, a bit, of a plan. Search for heat sanctuaries and make sure they're safe for you. He's got jongho, yunho, mingi- for some reason he didn't trust mingi- wooyoung and San. The same goes for those two. Yunho's driving. Hongjoongs in the passenger seat, jongho behind the driver, wooyoung behind hongjoong, San in the middle, and lastly, in the final row, mingi is placed in the back. He lost the bet on the way to the van.

They've already visited about five places. Jongsik has taken time out of his day to help them look, he's got two places down so far. It's not enough, and it's not easy hiding identities. Hongjoong has already gotten the most stressed out he can be. He really doesn't know why he's so stressed. Maybe the possibility of making his potential-future-current ma-girlfriend upset has him uneasy. He's got to provide like you asked.

The buzzing from the guys in the back seat has joong anxious, drowning out their words in the back of his mind. It pools and it settles, eating away at his thoughts. The highway is a blur of bright sun and reflections gleaming off cars. His phone, the saving grace, rings.

“Hello?” he says, It's answered quickly. Seonghwas voice calls his name on the other side. Relief relaxes his bones. “Hey, where did-” “is she nearby?” He's begging for an answer. Seonghwa shuffles on the other side. “no, she's on the couch with yeosang” perfect. “Look, her heat sanctuary reservation got canceled at the last minute. They- they misbooked her for two months in advance- I don't understand how it-”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa stops his rambling with a hard call of his name. “We can figure this out, just come back, all of you.” seonghwa is convincing, cause then, hongjoong let's out the sigh he has been holding for a while.

Somehow mingi must have picked up on the call. He's already watching the car turn around and head home. Where they'll have to talk about it with seonghwa, your primary caretaker for your heat, and figure something out. Mingi didn't understand the sudden panic coming from the captain. Yes, it's stressful. But wouldn't you prefer being at home anyways? It would do you good to just stay in the comfort of the apartment in his opinion.

Unbeknownst to him, jongho is thinking the same thing. They've been at this for at least a solid two hours. You must miss them by now. And he definitely misses you. He misses not sitting next to sans bulky shoulders. He's going down the list of things he'd prefer than being in a cramped van, and you're most of them. He'd prefer being with you on the couch, cuddling, being touchy, maybe napping. Something ridiculous like that, Jongho didn't think he'd associate himself with domesticity. But he doesn't mind if it's you. He welcomes it, if it's coming from you.

Yunho has been the observer this while, quiet, unnervingly quiet, actually. Even Wooyoung and San debated a second ago about it. Ever since he asked his first couple of questions, he's stuck to just letting everyone else do what they're doing. This ride feels pointless but it's indeed Important. He just wonders why hongjoong didn't pull seonghwa aside and explain the situation at the apartment. But then again, Yunho realizes your heat is supposed to hit today. So that must be why the captain is freaking out. Trying to help in any way he can. There's really no guarantee you're okay with being at home. Yunho would hope you preferred the apartment. But it was your idea to be at the heat sanctuary. So, it's gonna cause chaos when they find out it's been canceled.

It really isn't his place to voice that though, he's not your primary caretaker. Seonghwa is. And if he has to say something then- he will. He'll say it to seonghwa. Because currently, hongjoong is sweating bullets in the passenger seat. Yunho doesn't want to stress him out anymore. The drive back is silent, buzzing with unspoken energy. Wooyoung and San are even whispering, debating, loud enough for everyone to hear. You are on the tip of their tongues as they talk. No one says anything about it, they're voicing the same concerns everyone has had up until that moment. “Do you think she wants to be home for it?” Wooyoung asks and san huffs. “I don't know, I can't read her mind” he sighs into his words, pouting.

Yeosang has been great company, he's perfect actually. He holds you close and talks about the movie with you, a jurassic park movie. One of the older ones, after scouring all of the apps, he finally took the remote from you and put one on. Dragging you into him, you've got your head on his lap. As he strokes your hair, watching the movie with focused attention.

With one of the throw blankets hanging off the two of you. Your eyes have already closed once, but when he moved his thigh you twitched them back open. Sleepily watching the movie. Behind your head, he has been watching you most of the time. Watching your shoulders fall with every breath. You shift your feet to curl up further, tugging your head closer to him. Sighing every so often. Yawning as well. Yeosang knows you're tired.

He'd never admit it out loud but he tried to block out every event from the morning, he's got a keen sense of hearing. He had to excuse himself already to calm down. Yunho popped into their shared room last night, and for a second, yeosang debated with himself on asking if he could join you two for some after time. He didn't though. And as Yunho left without noticing he was awake, he fell into a thoughtless dream after.

But this is what he needs. You, so very close. Clueless to the mess the guys are trying to fix. Just relaxing into him. He doesn't know the last time you actually relaxed. You've been chaotically stressed for- well- forever. He might even say you have anxiety. The way you have melted into them at any affection for the past week makes his heart swell.

You deserve affection and praise. Yeosang likes this a lot. Just existing together. He hopes you could do this for the future, just relax with him. Not worry so much about things. You're not even the captain and yet, you're the most. doting of the group. practically the one who holds the weight of the group on your shoulders before events whenever you notice any one of them feeling crowded.

Maybe- he thinks for a second, as his fingers caress over your neck, along your collarbone. Maybe you've always had this second sex deep down.

Bodies shuffle through the front door, the jingle of keys echoing as they clatter against the key dish. Your head doesn't prop itself from yeosangs’s lap. You're most definitely asleep. His hand goes to cover your exposed ear at the loudness. Looking up from over the TV to the entrance. Just as san rounds the corner, yeosang is gesturing him to being quiet. His face lights up when he sees you, contrary to the confused look he had before. He takes the spot opposite yeosang, towards the end of your feet. His hand sliding up to pat your calf. “How long has she been asleep for?” he never breaks his eyes from your face as he asks.

Yeosang does the same. “A bit” he nods to confirm. The couch begins to get crowded, Yunho pops up against the space behind the couch, reaching over to pull the blanket further up your shoulders silently. Jonghos next, standing next to yunho. His arms lean over the back of the couch so he can watch Yunho pull the blanket up. And then there's mingi. Who is loudly stomping through the door with wooyoung.

Both arguing about well- probably nothing serious. Your once serene sleeping face scrunches as the discussion meets your ears. Loud shushes come from the guys just as yeosang grimaces. Jongho leans away to scold Mingi. As san does the same. Getting up from his spot on the couch gently so as to not wake you. Hush whispers and apologies filling the living room over the volume of the TV.

Hongjoong is at seonghwa's door as soon as he sees he isn't in the living room. You're fast asleep and he did watch your face for a second before he left to talk to the dark haired guy. Seonghwa lets him in. As soon as he steps through the door hongjoong is explaining his point of view. Where they were. What they were doing.

“It's okay, I had a backup, they take last minute reservations.” Seonghwa reassures him. Reaching for the stack of papers on his bed. “We talked about it that day, remember?” It's a bit of a blur but. Yes, Joong remembers when they sat around your door that day. A phone call that lasted fifty minutes. He takes a seat on seonghwas bed with him. Confirming with a “Yeah, I do”

Seonghwa slips a piece of paper towards joong. Tapping on one of the lines. It's in seonghwas writing. Notes from that day. Contacts for the heat sanctuary, a line of three. Backups, he assumes. “I haven’t placed the reservation yet.” seonghwa, says. Biting on his bottom lip gently. Joong fiddles with the papers between his fingers.“I was thinking we could ask if she would want to stay here for her heat” hongjoong says.

Seonghwas eyes shoot open in surprise. He thinks for a second, nodding his head after. His eyes come up to make contact with hongjoongs.

“it doesn't hurt to ask”

Mingi stands completely rigid at the end of the hallway, the majority of the guys are the same. Standing back against the wall as they watch you work at tugging the blankets and pillows across the living room. It's a strange sight, you on your knees, tossing left and right. Your forehead creases with the amount of focus you're putting into it. He left for two seconds to find his phone and you're already awake.

“Is she doing what I think she's doing?” He asks first. Just as you're sitting on your knees, looking around at the circle of blankets uncomfortably. Yunho, somehow, is the first to say something when he notices your expressions. “She needs more blankets. Get blankets! Pillows! Clothes, whatever- go” he pushes bodies into the hallway, most of them bump into mingi and get to spreading out.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still in hwas's shared room when suddenly the burst of san and mingi interrupt their discussion. The clatter of people in the hallway has them concerned, doors swinging open and bouncing off the wall, stomping of feet, what the hell is going on out there? San is tossing his blankets over his shoulder, pillows as well. Mingi, well- Mingi is grabbing anything he can fit in his arms.

There's the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what's going on. Cause as they watch for seconds as their members frantically pull their own scent covered blankets and sheets. Seonghwa and joong shoot up to do the same. Hongjoong feet skid to a stop in the hallway. You're in clear view. Kneading and pawing at the blankets. A frustrated pout over your lips. It's a cute sight until he completely bumps into jongho and wooyoung.

Clothing spiraling out of their hands and mixing along the floor. Jongho isn't cursing out hongjoong, just in general when he bends down to pick up what he can. Dumping it just outside the sacred ring of your makeshift nest, like an offering. Wooyoung on the other hand, is whining about how his clothes and jonghos clothes are now mixed up. He hates that. As well as coming in second when he completely drops his clothes closest to the line that's your nest.

Jongho childishly sticks his tongue out at wooyoung. Wooyoung does the same. Pushing the younger members shoulder.

You reach out of the circle. Debating on whose clothing to grab first, your hand hovers. But it then pulls back to pry on your bottom lip. Thinking. Your eyebrows scrunch. You're very cute at this moment, jongho and wooyoung both think so. Wooyoung is a bundle of impatience while jongho’ hands twitch every so often together. When you reach out again, you grab both of their ankles.

Surely, they weren't expecting that. Quite literally did you pick both, you're now pulling them into the circle with tough yanks. They both don't waste a second, entering the sacred area that is your nest. They've never been let into a nest, so they really don't know what to do, standing awkwardly in a mix of their own scents. “Off” you point to their shirts.

Perhaps the freshness of their scents is why you want their shirts. You don't have to ask twice. Wooyoung almost sloppily pulls off his full top over his head, a graphic hoodie. Whilst jongho, completely pulls his shirt off with minor hesitation and hands it to you, you smile. Shoving your face into it. Wooyoung, finally able to, gets his hoodie and shirt off in one go.

He hands it to you as soon as you look up, face beaming up at him so brightly, he swears his heart skips a beat. You go to shove the shirts and hoodie into the outer layer of the nest, adding to the wall. You stop abruptly, looking back up at the two men who stare in wonder. The dropping of a zipper sliding against the wood floor has them jumping. “Why are you in the circle!.. where are your shirts-” San whines pointing fingers accusingly at the two men, a pile of his and mingis clothing and blankets stack like a mountain on the floor. Mingi is pouting aswell, bending down to look at you.

“Can I help?” He asks urgently, nodding his head, hand reaching out towards the edge of the nest. You take a second, staring, mingi is sweating. He wants to help, wants you to say yes, he can be good, can keep his hands to himself, he can provide like a good alpha. “Will you help me?” you bite your bottom lip. You reach for his hand, pulling him in. Mingi gets to work, lining up the edges with clothes he brought. “No fair! I want to help!” Wooyoung whined, dropping down to his knees in front of you. “Mega, I can help right?” “Me too!” jongho interjects, dropping down on his knees as well. Wooyoung shoots him daggers over his shoulder.

You smile, and hand them the clothing you've grabbed. San is busy pouting, arms crossed over his chest. He's got an ego at the moment and he doesn't feel like begging, too busy watching the other guys smooth out clothing. Your soft hands reach to pet over his crossed arms, unfurling them and pulling him inside the circle with the gentleness san is melting at. The others are too busy building the edges to notice he was pouting seconds before.

Lost in their own corners. You pull him down and tug him to the free space on the nest. It's big enough for everyone to have their own corners. Enough to have the space. “The furniture is in the way” you pout, grabbing his hands in yours. “Will you move it please?”

Wow, the way sans moves so quickly. You would have said he turned into the flash. His hands are pushing the extremely large center table. Yunho has to stop him with a hand on the other end, tossing his clothes to the side. San perks up, hands on his hips as he stands tall opposite of the other alpha. “She asked me, not you,” he brags, it doesn't cause any harm. Yunho laughs.

“I'm sure she doesn't mind, right ‘mega?” You perk at his call, looking over your shoulder from next to mingi. “don't fight” you huff, pouting. They shake their heads. “We'll play nice” San waves his hand, trying to push your worries away. He's actually thankful that Yunho showed, he might have thrown his back out if he didn't. Yunho helps san as the center table is pushed as far to the wall as it could go, as well as the couch, pushed towards the window to make room. As soon as they're done they're joining you in the nest, bumping shoulders to open the area.

Yeosang, seonghwa, and hongjoong come last. Meticulously chosen clothing and blankets in hand. “I'm glad I vacuumed '' seonghwa grimaces, the floor isn't the best place. In his opinion, you all should just move just because he doesn't deem it good enough for you. That really is the alpha in him talking. Hongjoong moves on, doesn't even acknowledge it. He places his clothes down as he squats, calling your name for your attention. He reaches his hand out.

“Joongie'' you smile, fingers slipping into his own. Your pupils are blown, must be in omega mindspace cause as soon as you grab him you're digging your face into his neck, he giggles at the sensation. You pull back and peck his lips. Rubbing your nose against his. “Come!” You beckon seonghwa and yeosang as well, making a grabbing motion.

You've got a giant circle going, it spans almost the entire living room. The sheets are the first layer in the center. Followed up by piles of clothing on the edges, and lastly blankets folded for comfort. no one questions how everyone has removed their shirts. You've got all of their missing clothing in your grasp, draped across you as you work your fingers at pulling a blanket over the tilted sideways couch, it's like a little cave, big enough for two just in case you want to hide out in there.

You're making excited noises by the end of it. Like you just decorated and finished your most important project. Smile so big, that everyone is copying you. Watching you with fondness. You've told each of them at a time that their spots are perfect. They love the praise.

“You did amazing omega, It looks perfect” yunho scoots on over, pulling himself around your back, hands wrapping around your waist. He can't help it. You're just so giggly and cute at the moment. So squishy. He loves it. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck. You lean back into him, curling your hand around his hair. Preening at the affection.

Hongjoongs head falls on your lap, laying between your thighs. “You put a lot of work into it. Didn't you?” he praises, clapping his hand over your face gently. Pulling you down into him. A type of upside down spider kiss ensues, innocent and sweet. And maybe the other guys are staring, it's hard not too. You're beautiful. You're breathtaking.

You're relaxed. It's rare to see so. The only time you've looked relaxed in a month is when you're borderline sleepy or banged out. Which, only one of those things has become common recently. Sex really is a good stress reliever. Or maybe it's being close to them. Letting yourself feel comfortable with the affections of your group members.

You haven't left the nest since it was made, seonghwa has to lure you to the corner so you don't get any snacks or crumbs on the pile. Each guy has come and gone in it, most recently San who pulled you onto his chest so he can nap, safe to say it was the best nap in his life. Jongho is asleep across from you in the little couch cave. Yeosang took sans spot next, painting your nails with scentless polish, just talking with you.

He's got a soft orange to match his own black nails. Halloween-esk themes. You watch his face as he does so, focusing hard. The background chatter of the guys makes you buzz with comfort. Wooyoung has a hand on your thigh as he watches his phone. Scrolling mindlessly.

“Yeo” you call softly, the top of the nail polish being placed on the bottle as he looks up through his eyelashes. He twists it tight, tapping and shaking it in his hand. He hums to answer you, you smile gently. His hand has a soft hold on your own, showcasing the tips of your fingernails to him. “Can we.. Can I..” You mumble on, a bit flustered. Yeosang nods gently, encouraging you on. You look down at his lips. Squishy and plush from him biting on them while he focused. Your hand reaches up, the one he holds. He tugs it back between you before you can place it on his face.

He's leaning down before you can ask, softly applying his lips to yours. Sighing into you. He's been waiting for this. So long. His own hand curls around your arm. Keeping you grounded in front of him as he leans in. Guiding your kiss with his own slow paced one, lips moving in tandem. He's soft and gentle, letting you relax into him. He pushes you back more with his own movements, but his hand holds you close.

He pulls away, eyeing your reaction. Just a small smile afterwards, the tiniest of grins. He's shaking the polish again, gripping your right hand so he can paint that side. Your face feels hot, flush. You'll never get used to kissing, possibly, ever. Not when they're so romantic about it.

“What about me, huh?” Wooyoung speaks up, his fingers pulling at the bottom of your pants. You turn to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. He sits up on his arm expectantly, tilting his head, a smirky pout on his lips. You huff. Leaning forward. He happily closes the distance. Taking your face in his larger palm.

Wooyoung kiss is much faster than yeosangs. He's got you parting for him before you can react, swallowing your sighs in his greedy mouth. Even though you're the one leaning down to kiss him, he's got you doing what he wants. Nibbling on your bottom lip and sucking air every time he pulls back. He's messy, sloppy, licking up the saliva he pulled from you. One more sloppy kiss on your glossy lips. Before he pulls his mouth away and smirks. His finger swipes along your lip. Glancing between it and you.

What do you do with yourself now?

“Hot” Wooyoung smiles at your reaction. Bingo. He's got a massive ego. You're dazed, eyebrows shot up and licking the gloss from your lips. He pats your thigh, turning away to go back on his phone. Satisfied. Yeosang huffs under his breath, a soft laugh. Before he's pulling your hand back between his and guiding the tip of the polish down your fingernail again. It takes you a second to recoup. Hot and bothered. The contrast between the two of them shows.

Mingi decides it's his turn to step into the nest, carefully walking over the wall of clothes with his massive body. He takes his seat behind you, watching his lanky arms, his head falling over your shoulder. “Seonghwa wants to know how you're feeling,” Mingi asks, a bit flushed when he looks down at your hands. ‘How you're feeling’ really means ‘do you need dick now or later?’ And, maybe that urgent feeling is crawling back up. Just resting in the pit of your gut and bubbling. “Mm.. I'm okay for now” you shift, turning your head at him. A few seconds ago, you would have said differently. “You sure?” He looks up through his lashes as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. Certainly smelling your scent and how it's more prominent.

“For now” you repeat. Smiling shyly. You kiss his temple, as far as you can reach. He leans his head up to nudge your nose with his, capturing your lips easily. He's leaning down into you, taking your breath away. It's a simple kiss, a soft dance. He pulls away. He can't indulge right now. But he wants to. He kisses your neck once, standing up to take his leave and report back to seonghwa and hongjoong.

A lot has just happened, you're sure this confirms everything so far. You mean- everything you hope.

“i.. are we dating now?” wooyoung's phone audibly stops. Yeosangs finger stops the brush. You gulp, don't even look up from the brush on the edge of your fingertip. It's not a second later that wooyoung laughs. “we're practically married,” he huffs, shuffling to lay his head on your thigh. A contrasting smile to your shocked face. “you can't get rid of us now” yeosang’s grin can be heard through his words, continuing to work the brush, gathering the glooped polish.

And maybe wooyoung does want to marry, there's nothing wrong with it. He didn't see himself getting married anytime soon. Mating either. He'd do both of those things with you in a heartbeat. He followed rumors of you as a trainee. Even leaving hybe to join the same entertainment as you. He was determined to meet you. Because of it, he got yeosang to become a secret fan of you as well. Maybe, wooyoung is a bit of a creep, but he really, really liked you, even before debut.

Yeosang knows this, how his best friend was almost completely infatuated with you. A giant crush that made yeosang join him. They're probably your first fanboys. No, they're definitely your first fanboys.

Mingis walk to the kitchen is a giddy one. He feels the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Buzzing him with electricity. He's a starved man, dying for your affection. Any type of crumb gets him excited. Like he's about to perform. He takes a deep breath before he enters the kitchen. Glancing at Hongjoong sit at the counter, laptop propped up on his lap. San is helping Seonghwa cook. Yunho as well. All of them are doing their own thing.

It's the domesticity that gets to him. He really doesn't see his life any other way. This is his pack. Forever. Joongs eyes catch mingis, popping half a strawberry in his mouth. “What's with that look?” Joong asks. But he knows. Mingi knows he knows. Cause that subtle look on his smirking features is a dead giveaway. “Nothing,” Mingi mumbles, scratching the back of his head, turning an eye so as to avoid his question.

“How is she?” Seonghwa asks from over his shoulder. “she said she's okay for now” he enhances the end. There's a huff of laughter coming from joongs end. “For now” he repeats, turning in his chair. Everyone in the kitchen glances at him, different swirls of emotions on each of their faces. “What does that mean?” San asks. Cluelessly.

Yunho laughs. Airy and deep. Preparing the side dishes for dinner.

“Means she's gonna need taken care of soon”

Semi-proofread c': thank you all!

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @pyeonghongrie-main @simeonswhore (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎)

[jakesaverse]

ECHOES OF YESTERDAY | JAKE SIM CH.3

Synopsis: On her 21st birthday, Y/n wakes up overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. It’s not just her birthday; it’s also the third anniversary of her high school boyfriend Jake’s tragic death. Surviving the accident that took Jake’s life, Y/n is haunted by memories of their love and the future they lost. In a moment of desperate longing, she makes a wish to see Jake again and is miraculously transported back in time to when Jake was alive. However, she finds that Jake now hates her, adding a new layer of pain and confusion. Determined to change his fate and earn his tolerance, she resolves to do everything in her power to ensure he escapes death this time.

Reader: Jake x reader

Authors note: Hello! I know it’s been awhile since I’ve uploaded or really updated about my process and I am SOOOO sorry 😭. I’ve had a pretty rough writers block right after I posted my second chapter. And I’m still having it but it’s slowly getting better ❤️‍🩹. This chapter is more on the emotional side ( all of them have been but yk what I mean I hope). Also, this is meant to be slow burn so please keep that in mind. Anyways, thank you for your patience and hopefully it was worth the wait 🥰! Thank you for your support 🫶🫶!!

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Jake jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. The remnants of the nightmare clung to his mind, vivid and tormenting. He could still see the shadows closing in, suffocating him, and the echo of Y/N's words, "I’m trying to save you," haunting his every thought.

He sat up, gasping for air, and looked around his dimly lit room. The broken mirror on the wall caught his eye, a cruel reminder of his earlier outburst. Anger and despair had driven him to punch it, shattering both the glass and a piece of himself.

Jake's hand trembled as he reached for the first aid kit on his bedside table. His wrist was still bleeding, the pain sharp and relentless. He wrapped the bandage around it, each twist of the fabric feeling like a futile attempt to hold himself together.

As he tightened the bandage, tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't escape the image of the man in the mirror—so lost, so alone. The reflection was a stark contrast to the facade he showed the world. In truth, he was drowning in his own isolation, burdened by the weight of his past and the guilt that gnawed at his soul.

Y/N's words echoed louder now, cutting through the silence of the room. "I’m trying to save you ." At first, he had dismissed her as crazy, but now those words felt like a lifeline. Why did he need to be saved? What did she see in him that he couldn't see in himself?

Jake's thoughts spiraled as he tried to make sense of it all. He thought about his life, the constant feeling of not being enough, and the relentless self-blame. He had pushed everyone away, convinced that he didn't deserve their love or friendship. The loneliness was suffocating.

And yet, Y/N's words had pierced through his defenses. Despite everything, they had reached him. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. Maybe he did need saving—from his anger, his guilt, and the darkness that consumed him.

As he looked at the shattered mirror, Jake made a silent vow. He would find out what Y/N meant. He would confront his demons and try to understand why he needed to be saved. It was a small glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak existence, but it was enough to keep him going.

Sunghoon arrived at Jake's apartment early in the morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. He had been worried about Jake ever since their last conversation. Jake had seemed distant, lost in his thoughts, and Sunghoon knew all too well how his friend tended to shut down if he didn't talk about what was bothering him.

Quietly, Sunghoon pulled out the spare key Jake had given him for emergencies and let himself in. He carried a bag of food, hoping that a warm meal might help lift Jake's spirits. As he stepped inside, he was struck by the silence and the disarray. The broken mirror, the scattered shards of glass, and the overall mess painted a clear picture of Jake's turmoil.

Sunghoon found Jake slumped on the couch, looking disheveled and exhausted. His eyes immediately went to the bandaged wrist, the blood seeping through the white fabric. Sunghoon's heart sank.

"Jake, what the hell happened?" Sunghoon's voice was a mix of concern and frustration as he set the bag of food on the table and rushed to his friend's side.

Jake looked up, startled. "Sunghoon? How did you—"

"I used the spare key. I was worried about you." Sunghoon gestured to the bandage. "You hurt yourself again. You can't keep doing this, Jake."

Jake sighed, his head in his hands. "It's nothing, Sunghoon. Just had a rough night."

"Nothing? This is not nothing!" Sunghoon's voice softened as he sat beside Jake. "Talk to me. What's going on? You can't keep bottling this up. It's eating you alive."

For a moment, there was silence. Jake struggled to find the words, his emotions a tangled mess. Finally, he looked up, his eyes filled with pain. "I had a nightmare. It felt so real, and I woke up feeling... broken. I can't shake this feeling, Sunghoon. I feel like I'm drowning in my own thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it."

Sunghoon placed a reassuring hand on Jake's shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone, Jake. I'm here for you. We all are. But you need to let us in. You need to talk about what's going on inside your head."

Jake nodded slowly, tears brimming in his eyes. "I know. It's just so hard. I feel like I'm not enough, like I'm always failing."

"You're not failing, Jake. You're human. We all have our struggles, but we face them together. You don't have to carry this burden by yourself."

Jake took a deep breath, the weight on his chest feeling a little lighter. "Thanks, Sunghoon. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sunghoon smiled, giving Jake's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You'll never have to find out. Now, let's get that wrist properly cleaned up, and then we'll figure this out together. One step at a time."

As Sunghoon helped Jake with his bandage and then unpacked the food, a sense of hope began to bloom in the room. It wasn't a solution to all of Jake's problems, but it was a start. And sometimes, that's all you need to begin healing.

Sunghoon sat across from Jake, he was talking about their plans for the upcoming weekend, but he noticed Jake's eyes drifting away, staring blankly out the window. Sunghoon knew this look all too well. Jake often spaced out like this when he was really struggling with something heavy on his mind.

Sunghoon's voice softened, careful not to startle Jake out of his thoughts. "You know, Jake, it's been a while since we went to the beach. How about we get some fresh air?"

Jake blinked, his focus slowly returning to the present. "The beach?"

"Yeah," Sunghoon said with a gentle smile. "It could be good for you. We can invite Jay too. Just the three of us, like old times."

Jake's lips curved into a small, grateful smile. "That sounds nice."

Sunghoon pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text to Jay. Within moments, Jay replied with an enthusiastic "I'm in!"

"Jay's on board," Sunghoon said, standing up and offering his hand to Jake. "Let's go."

They gathered their things and headed out the door. The drive to the beach was filled with light chatter, mostly led by Sunghoon, with Jake giving occasional nods or short responses. Sunghoon didn't mind; he was just glad to see a hint of relaxation in Jake's demeanor.

When they arrived at the beach, Jay was already there, waving at them with a big grin. "Hey, guys!"

"Hey, Jay!" Sunghoon called back, returning the wave.

Jake managed a small smile as they joined Jay by the water. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the salty breeze seemed to lift some of the weight off Jake's shoulders. For a moment, he felt a sense of peace.

They walked along the shore, the sand cool beneath their feet. Jay, always the joker, started telling funny stories about their school days, trying to coax a laugh out of Jake. Sunghoon watched as a small spark of amusement flickered in Jake's eyes.

"Remember that time we tried to build the biggest sandcastle and ended up with more sand on ourselves than on the castle?" Jay said, laughing.

Jake chuckled softly, the sound like music to Sunghoon's ears. "Yeah, and we were so proud of that lopsided thing."

Sunghoon joined in the laughter, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "We should try building another one today. What do you say, Jake?"

Jake looked at his friends, feeling a swell of gratitude. "Yeah, let's do it."

They spent the afternoon building a sandcastle, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. For a while, Jake forgot about his troubles, lost in the simple joy of being with his friends. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, they sat down on the sand, watching the horizon.

"Thanks, guys," Jake said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I really needed this."

Sunghoon wrapped an arm around Jake's shoulders. "We're always here for you, Jake. No matter what."

Jay nodded, his expression serious for once. "Yeah, man. We're a trio. We stick together."

Jake felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he didn't try to hide them. He let them fall, feeling the warmth of his friends' presence. In that moment, he knew he wasn't alone. He had Sunghoon and Jay by his side, and that made all the difference.

You stood motionless in front of the bridge, the biting wind whispering secrets of the past as it brushed against your skin. The bridge held a profound significance, a silent witness to a night that had changed everything. You could still feel the weight of that evening, the crushing despair that had driven you to the edge.

It was late, the kind of late where the world seems to hold its breath. You had been ready to let go, to escape the relentless pain that had become your constant companion. You had stepped onto the bridge, your heart pounding, your mind a chaotic storm. The darkness below had seemed inviting, a final respite from your suffering.

But then, out of the shadows, Jake had appeared. His presence had been like a beacon, a light cutting through your darkest hour.

"Y/N, please don't," he had called out, his voice trembling with fear and love. He had approached you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't have to do this. You're not alone. I'm here with you."

Jake had wrapped you in his arms, holding you with a strength that belied his own fears. His embrace had been warm, a sanctuary where your broken pieces could find solace. He had whispered words of comfort, of hope, convincing you that your life was worth living. That night, he had saved you, pulling you back from the brink.

But now, as you stood before the bridge once more, Jake was gone. He had died, leaving a void that nothing could fill. The memory of his sacrifice haunted you, a constant reminder of your guilt. You had never wanted to live, yet Jake had fought so hard for your life. And now, he was dead, and you were still here, drowning in a sea of remorse.

The tears began to fall, slowly at first, then in an uncontrollable torrent. You sank to your knees, your sobs echoing in the emptiness around you. The guilt was overwhelming, the pain unbearable. It felt as if your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"Jake, I'm so sorry," you whispered through your tears. "I miss you so much. Why did you save me?"

The wind continued to blow, carrying your words into the void. You clutched at your chest, the ache of loss and regret consuming you. You remembered his smile, the way his eyes had sparkled with life, and the way he had always known just what to say to make you feel better. But now, those memories were all you had left.

You cried until you had no more tears to shed, your body trembling with the force of your grief. In the stillness that followed, you felt a faint sense of release, as if your tears had washed away a part of the burden you carried. You knew that Jake would never truly be gone, that he lived on in your heart and in the memories you had shared.

As you stood up, you took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill your lungs. You looked out over the bridge, the place where Jake had saved your life, and you made a silent promise to him. You would try to live, not just for yourself, but for him. You would carry his memory with you, letting it guide you through the darkness.

Jake stepped out of Sunghoon's car, waving a tired goodbye to his friends. The night air was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the car's interior. Despite his exhaustion, he felt a restless energy coursing through him. He knew he needed to clear his head, so he decided to take a walk, even though it was pretty late.

The streets were eerily quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Jake walked aimlessly, his thoughts a jumbled mess of regrets and what-ifs. He found himself heading towards the bridge, a place he often went to when he needed to think, to escape, to breathe.

As he approached, he noticed a figure standing by the railing. It took him a moment to realize it was Y/N. She was crying, her shoulders shaking with each sob, the sound barely audible but piercing through the night. Jake's first instinct was to turn around and leave her to her privacy, but something stopped him. He saw himself in her—broken and lost. The raw emotion on her face mirrored the turmoil he felt inside.

Despite everything she had done to get under his skin, he couldn't just leave her there, struggling alone. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her, his footsteps soft against the pavement. Each step felt like a mile, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

"Y/N," he called out gently, his voice almost a whisper.

She looked up, startled, and quickly tried to recompose herself, wiping away her tears with trembling hands. But as soon as she saw him, the facade crumbled. Her eyes, red and swollen, filled with fresh tears. Without thinking, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate hug. Jake stood still for a moment, surprised, but then he felt her body shaking against his, her sobs muffled against his chest.

He hesitated, then slowly brought his arms around her, holding her as she broke down. They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the night wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their shared pain.

Jake could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, her grip on him tightening as if she was afraid he would disappear. He gently rested his chin on top of her head, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. He didn't know what to say, didn't know if there were any words that could ease her pain. So he just held her, letting her cry, letting her release the torrent of emotions that had been building up inside her.

"You're not alone," he whispered finally, his voice breaking. "I'm here."

Y/N's sobs grew louder, more anguished, as if his words had opened a floodgate. She clung to him, her body shaking with the force of her crying. Jake tightened his hold on her, his heart aching for her, for them both. In that moment, all the resentment, all the anger he had harbored towards her seemed to dissolve, replaced by a deep, aching empathy.

They stood there for what felt like hours, the night growing colder around them. Eventually, Y/N's sobs began to subside, her breathing becoming more even. She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Jake nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Anytime," he replied softly.

They stood there in silence, the bridge their silent witness, the night their only companion. For the first time in a long while, Jake felt a sense of purpose. He didn't have the answers, didn't know what the future held, but for now, being there for Y/N was enough.

You and Jake walked side by side, the dim streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. The silence between you was thick, but not uncomfortable. You reached the nearest shop that was still open, a small convenience store with a flickering neon sign that buzzed faintly in the cool night air.

"I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?" Jake asked, his voice breaking the silence. There was a softness in his tone that made your heart ache.

You shook your head. "No, I'm good."

Jake raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He disappeared into the store, leaving you standing outside, your thoughts racing. You couldn't tell him the truth—that you had traveled back in time to save him. How could you explain something so unbelievable?

As you waited, memories of the accident flooded your mind. The screeching tires, the shattering glass, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness. You squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the images away, but they clung to you like shadows.

A few minutes later, Jake emerged with a bottle of water and a small bag of chips. He handed the chips to you. "I know you said you didn't want anything, but I got these for you anyway."

You took the bag hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his. "Thanks," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

You started walking back, the crunch of gravel under your feet the only sound. Jake glanced at you sideways, his brow furrowed with concern. "So, why did you say I needed to be saved?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You had to think fast. "Oh, I was just... you know, being dramatic. I didn't mean anything by it."

Jake stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "You don't have to lie to me, Y/N. I can tell something's been bothering you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "It's nothing, really. Just... a lot on my mind."

Jake reached out and gently touched your arm, his expression softening. He wasn't your biggest fan, mainly because it always seemed like you had your life together, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He knew it was wrong to assume and dislike you for that, but those feelings had lingered for so long.

However, when he saw you a couple of minutes ago, with that same look and feeling he had been battling his whole life, something inside him shifted. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks—how much of a jerk he had been. Jake's heart ached with regret as he looked at you, finally understanding the weight of his misguided resentment.

"You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you."

You felt a lump in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything, to unburden yourself of the secret that weighed so heavily on your heart. But you couldn't. Not yet. Instead, you forced a smile. "Thanks, Jake. That means a lot."

You continued walking in silence, the tension between you palpable. As you guys neared the corner where you would part ways, Jake stopped and turned to you, his expression serious.

"We should probably figure out when to meet up for the project," he said, breaking the moment you had shared.

You nodded, grateful for the change in topic. "Yeah, how about tomorrow after school?"

"Sounds good," Jake replied. He hesitated for a moment, then added, "And if you ever need to talk, I'm here. Anytime."

Your heart ached at his kindness. At the kindness you haven’t been able to witness for a couple of years now. “Thanks, Jake. I'll remember that."

As you went your separate ways, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. You wanted to tell him the truth, but you knew you couldn't. Not yet. For now, you would have to carry the weight of your secret alone.

Jake sat alone in his room, the weight of his actions crashing down on him with unbearable force. He had always prided himself on being strong, on keeping his emotions in check, but now he felt like he was unraveling. He had misjudged Y/N so badly, and the realization of how much he had hurt her was like a punch to the gut.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about all the times he had let his resentment and jealousy guide his actions. He had been so blinded by his own insecurities that he failed to see the pain he was causing someone else. Y/N didn't deserve any of it. She was just trying to navigate her own struggles, and he had made it so much harder for her.

Jake's heart ached as he remembered the look on her face, the vulnerability he had overlooked. He had always managed to hurt people, even when he didn't mean to. It was like a curse he couldn't escape. The guilt was suffocating, and he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He broke down, sobbing quietly in the darkness of his room.

He glanced at his injured hand, which he had managed to hide earlier. The pain was a constant reminder of his own mistakes. Tomorrow, he would have to figure out how to hide it at school. He didn't want anyone to see his weakness, especially not Y/N. He had already caused her enough pain.

But as he sat there, crying and clutching his injured hand, Jake realized that hiding his pain wasn't the answer. He needed to make things right, to show Y/N that he was truly sorry. It wouldn't be easy, and he knew it would take time, but he was determined to change. He couldn't keep hurting the people around him, especially not Y/N.

With a heavy heart, Jake wiped away his tears and made a silent promise to himself. Tomorrow, he would start making amends. He didn't know how, but he would find a way to show Y/N that he was sorry, that he wanted to be better. For her, and for himself.

taglist: @belovedsthings @en-chantedtomeetyou @syazzzlisa @k1ttylvr @jaeyunpinkyring-deactivated2024 @dreamiestay @soobs-things @capri-cuntz @beomgyusimp @heelariously @thinkinboutbin @jyunsgf @lwavander @chaewonshoney @maliakealoha @addictedtohobi @likeemilia @shaniandme @chocminteu @lilyuwon @kgneptun @dojaejunging @binniesbabe @asteria-wood

[fancyfeathers]

And Then There Were None

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Author!Reader)

Based on this post

TW//serial killing, panic attacks, slight gore if you squint, smoking, usage of drugs(smoking), kidnapping, implied isolation, heavy guilt, heavy depression

And Then There Were None (Yandere William James Moriarty /w Author Darling Masterlist)

Six months, you spent six months, a half a year, in America, New York City specifically, writing and getting inspiration for your next novel. You did not go alone of course, you made the trip with a friend of yours, Alex Pendel, an American novelist who grew up in Manhattan. You stayed with their family during your trip and you certainly learned a thing or two from the very family who runs New York in the palm of their hand, but that all is besides the point now, because now you are home.

Alex took your hand, helping you as you could pick up the skirt of your dress, as you stepped off the walkway that led from the ship to the dock. You noticed as you disembarked the strange looks Alex got from the people all around, you suppose that the suit she wore would certainly draw eyes, you had gotten so used to her family back in America and they were used to her more masculine sense in fashion, her mother even telling you with a fond tone how much Alex looked like her father. But here in London where no one truly feared her or her family that look was bound to draw stares. You also clocked that your luggage was nowhere to be seen as you disembarked which would make anyone else raise an eyebrow but to the two of you, this was just how any other trip would come to its end.

“You wanna bet how many of them came?” Alex asked as you began making your way down the dock, your heeled boots and her slacks making a sharp and dull clicking sound from each of you both as you walked together, arms interlocked. “I bet Réne and Charlotte will be there, I think Evelyn had that family reunion this week.”

“No that was last week, Charlotte I think is up in York, it is her younger brother’s birthday today.” You remarked after Alex’s comment which drew a hum from her as she released your arm to grab a cigarette from her suit jacket pocket.

Réne Drew, Charlotte Basset, and Evelyn Jay, along with Alex Pendel, they all were your best friends. You were all members of a small writer’s club you formed, there were a few other members as well but you all were the founders, you all made the payments for the building in Mayfair, hired the staff, and sent out the invitations to any promising authors, journalists, and poets who may be willing to join your club and they began to pour in. Evelyn and Réne were the ones who were at the club the most out of all of you.

Réne lived a few blocks away in a flat he began renting after moving to London from Marseille, a port city in France. Hisfamily was old money French family who based their fortune in the wine and alcohol industry, but his elder brother was set to inherit everything, so off to England he went, attending Oxford before settling in London and beginning his writing career and becoming a bestselling author know for his works that silently shatter the illusion of humanity in a poignant way by holding a mirror up to us and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be.

Evelyn was a young heiress from an old money family as well, but one from here in London, titleless, and she was the youngest member of the club as far as age goes, only eighteen when you all founded the club. She is a seemingly innocent and sweet young lady but the human mind can be a very dark place. She often asks, when you all are at the club, questions that truly terrify you, for example…

“Would hunting another person still be considered hunting an animal because humans are a form of animals?”

“If you were being burnt alive would the smoke or flames kill you first?”

“I think there is a murderer in my neighborhood, I keep on seeing traces of blood by the park… Do you think they are burying their victims there?”

She always had the sweetest smile and is honestly quite kind, if not a bit creepy.

Then lastly there was Lady Charlotte Basset, the eldest child and heiress of a noble family, she has more money than she knows what to do with. She moved to London to find direction with her life but instead found strange happiness in her family’s estate there, so she wrote about it and it sold in the blink of an eye. When not at her desk or at the writer’s club, she is often seen taking you all out on the town to spoil you bunch or out with one of her brothers, gambling and drinking. She often takes Evelyn to visit haunted sites all around London so she can get inspiration for her books and scare off suitors with the gossip of the seances she holds in her own estate, which may or may not be true.

“(Name)! Alex!” A high pitched voice called out to you two as you neared the end of the large pier. You looked to where the pier met the land and spotted a young lady with light brown hair and a long yellow dress that lacked any corset and was quite old, no doubt a gift from her grandmother from when she was a girl in the regency era. But that young lady was indeed familiar to the two of you, Evelyn Jay.

She ran over to the two of you, wrapping her arms around Alex first, which was returned with a hesitant hug and sheepish smile from the New Yorker, similar to how an older sister would greet their younger sibling when their friends were watching. Evelyn quickly broke away to greet you, hugging you slightly less tighter than how she hugged Alex. “Oh I missed you two so much! So much has happened! Réne went to Moscow to meet with a publisher and translated there to see if his next novel could be published in Russia first since it takes place there- oh and Charlotte got to meet the queen on her father’s birthday in the spring, and she said Charlotte looked absolutely radiant and-“

“Evelyn!” Alex cut her off with a wide smile across her face as she set a hand on the young lady’s shoulder in an attempt to pry her off of you. “We just got back, give us time to breathe, you can tell us all about what happened later.”

“I know it is just so good to see the both of you.” She spoke in a rush as she slipped her upper limbs away from your torso and then she took a breath and sigh, finally calming down as she looked over the both of you, her gloved hands folding in front of her. “It is… it is just so good to see you, both of you.”

There was something lingering in her voice, something that did not feel quite right but you just summed it up to perhaps your absence over the half a year.

Evelyn led you both to the carriage that she arrived in, and indeed your luggage was being packed up on the back and top of it. While the carriage driver was working on packing up your belongings, you spotted a man in a blue and brown plaid vest with a matching blue tie, his brown hair and eyes matched the brown on his vest while the gold glasses he wore that matched the gold buttons on his shirt and vest. He had a cigarette between his lips and fingers much like Alex did, and this was another familiar face, Réne Drew. He spotted the three of you and waves with one hand while the other pulled the cigarette from his lips.

“I saw Evelyn run off to look for the two of you, I would have gone with her but I just do not have the same energy she has, not with the nights of sleep I have been getting at least.” The French author spoke as a greeting as the two of you approached within ten feet of the carriage. He opened his free hand and arm to you, embracing you in a small hug for a moment, but not Alex since he knows she is not the affectionate type, with the exception of Evelyn that is. “It is so wonderful to see the both of you, truly it is.”

Something was off in his tone as well, now that was strange, Evelyn was one thing, but both Evelyn and Réne, that was how you knew something was wrong.

You glanced over at Alex and you saw a glance that was exchanged with you, silently signaling that she picked up on what you noticed as well.

“Réne, are you alright?” You questioned your friend as he broke away from the hug and he did not make eye contact with you for a long moment, only bugging his cigarette up to his lips to take a long draw from it. “Réne-“

“Sir… and ladies.” You heard the carriage driver call out to you all, hesitating for a moment as he was about to say ma’am but seeing as there were now three women he was addressing he changed his choice of word. “Everything is packed up.”

“Lovely.” Réne responded as he turned to face the carriage driver for a brief moment before looking back at you and Alex. “Let’s… we can discuss this in the carriage.”

Réne helped Evelyn into the carriage first, then attempted to help Alex who simply slapped his hand away and stepped in herself saying. “Réne, do you need help getting in a carriage? The answer is no and neither do I.”

Then Réne reached out to help you in the carriage-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you. You hit the ground, no doubt dirtying your dress that Alex’s mother got for you in America.

“Oh dear, are you alright Miss?” You hear the voice of the man who knocked you over as he reached out a hand to help you up, his voice smooth and calm if not a little worried in your distress. You looked up at him, he was a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a brown suit and red tie to be specific.

“Yes, I am, just a little fall is nothing to worry about.” You responded as you took his gloved hand with your own as he helped you up, pulling you to your feet. Behind him you saw another gentleman who looked quite similar only the other wore glasses and had a scar that hid itself behind his hair. You looked back to him and smiled, giving him a little nod in gratitude and you extended your hand to him, more socializing was a habit you picked up in America. “Thank you for helping me up.”

“It was the least I could do since I was the one who knocked you over.” He took your hand in his own, giving it a firm shake and squeeze. “I am Professor James Moriarty, it is a pleasure to meet a lady as polite as you, Miss...”

“Oh (Name).” You watched as his smile turned into an expression of slight shock. “Is something wrong, Professor Moriarty?”

“Not at all, I am just a fan of your work that is all.” He responded, shaking his expression away with a slightly embarrassed chuckle and smile.

“Well that is certainly a nice thing to hear after my trip home, I am glad you enjoy my work, Professor.” After your comment you heard Réne clear his throat, reminding you that everyone was waiting on you. You glanced back at your friend before looking back at the professor and giving him one last smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Professor Moriarty.”

“You as well.” He responded as you gave him a small wave goodbye as you turned back Réne who had his arm outstretched to help you into the carriage.

You stepped up into the carriage, swinging yourself over into the corner next to Evelyn that faced away from where the carriage was headed. Alex and Réne sat across from you, Réne nearest to you and Alex nearest to Evelyn. You felt the carriage begin to move, most likely off to your home first since you lived closest to the docks, though close would be an understatement, but that was besides the point. As you finally pulled away from the docks as a whole, Alex was the first to speak up.

“So what has you two all fussed? I thought you bunch were supposed to be happy we are home.” Her comment and tone would have normally drew smiles from you bunch but instead worried glances were exchanged between Réne and Evelyn, the silence was louder than anything else in this moment.

“Guys, what is wrong? You are starting to scare me.” You questioned, your own tone turning serious and grim as you looked between Evelyn and Réne who were tucked into their own separate corners of the carriage.

“While you both were gone something happened, at first no one thought much of it, that is until something like it happened again a few months later, about a week ago.” He began to explain, his hands nervously fidgeting with the pocket watch chain that was connected to his vest. “We thought about writing to you both when the first one happened but chalked it up to a coincidence but then the second one happened and you were already aboard the ship by then and thought it best to wait until you were back here to tell you-“

“Tell us what, Réne?” You questioned, drawing a brief silence from the French author again and his words were picked up by Evelyn.

“Well you know your novels, the one with a blinding snowstorm and a homicidal maniac and then the other one where the little girl poisoned her grandfather with eserine?” Evelyn asked you which you responded with a scoff.

“Of course I do, I wrote them.” You watched as Réne reached into his satchel he brought with him and pulled out two newspapers, one was slightly worn and older than the other, a few months if you had to guess. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and your heart began to pound as he handed them to you.

Then your heart stopped as you saw the headlines.

“Serial Killer in the Blizzard; multiple found dead.”

“Earl of Kent found poisoned with eserine.”

Your lips fell agape as you stared at the papers in your hands, you were so far away from reality in your shock that you did not even notice Alex snatching them out of your hands and begin reading over the paper herself. You must have been in shock for a few minutes because when you came to, Evelyn was rubbing your shoulders and Alex was swearing up a storm and Réne was trying to get her to calm down.

“The deaths were all nobility, but they mimicked your books.” Evelyn commented as she helped you sit up straight from how you sat slouched in your seat.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Alex snapped back at the young lady across from her.

“Think about it, think about all the major murders over the last few years, who has been killing the nobles of the nation or their aliases at least?” Réne asked and she fell to silence once again, minus the barely audible swears slipping from her lips, leaving you to piece together everything in your already distressed and confused mind.

“…the… the Lord of Crime.” Your words were breathy and uneven as you spoke your response but Réne nodded, his expression as grim as it has been since you stepped into the carriage.

“We… No one knows his motive behind choosing your books, but Scotland Yard has ruled you out from being a suspect since you were in America when the initial incidents took place, but they still have no clear suspects yet.” Réne continued on, your shaking form barely piecing together what he was saying. “We thought maybe you coming back to England would bring an end to them… but now thinking about that now it just sounds silly.”

“I… this can’t be true…”

The carriage was drawn to silence after you said those words, confirming that this indeed was reality.

—————————

You stood at the train station a suitcase packed that you carried, you were going to go visit your mother for a few weeks in your hometown, tell her about your time in America and all the parties you went to and things you saw in one of the most amazing cities in the world, but more importantly to find comfort after you heard about those murders and perhaps receive a bit of guidance on what to do.

“You have your ticket, right?” Little Evelyn asks as she bushed out the wrinkles in your coat as the train pulled up to the station. She had accompanied you to the station to say goodbye, but in reality your friends have not left you by yourself unless you were home since you found out about the murders of the Lord of Crime, it has been Almost three weeks now.

“Yes and I will be fine, Evelyn.” You replied to her worry with a smile which she gave a little huff to as the doors of the train opened up and made your head turn. You gave a glance back to Evelyn and she, like always, threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight, like she was afraid you would disappear into dust if she let go.

“Just be careful alright?” She spoke as she buried her face into your neck, muffling her voice slightly, to which you hummed in acknowledgement in response to her. She finally let go of you, her hands coming to rest on your lower upper arm, near your elbow. Her gaze flicked between you and the ground, as if she was scared to meet your gaze. “I will miss you.”

“I will only be gone a few weeks, it is not like I am going back to America.” You teased her which drew a wide smile across her face.

“I suppose that is true, just… be careful, please?”

“You already asked me that.”

“You already said that, but I will be.” You responded as you switched hands that your suitcase was in so that you could grab your ticket with your dominant hand and so that Evelyn would let go of you fully. “I’ll tell my mother that you said hello.”

“Please do- and oh ask her for the toffee she makes, I have been craving it since the holidays.” She added on, cutting herself off as soon as she remembered your mother’s cooking.

“I will.” There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you again that was broken with the whistle of the train blowing, telling you that you needed to board the train or be left behind. You turned your body but your head faced Evelynas you began to walk away. “Well I will see you in two weeks, Evelyn. We can have tea at the club when I get back.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You stepped up into the train proper as it began to move, almost catching you off guard which made you laugh slightly at your own stupidity. You began looking through the compartment, finding one that was free for your use, or in other words empty. Eventually you found one and got settled, setting your suitcase next to you for a brief moment while you pulled out a book to read, an American novel you bought during your time in the states, before you closed your suitcase and set it on the racks above you.

Time slowly drifted by as you made your way through the book, it was good, but time spent reading for you had just gotten short and shorter for you the sharper your mind got, so now the hours you spent as a child reading your favorite books from the library had turned into half an hour if that. You huffed a sigh as you closed the book and set it on your lap, but you slipped your index finger between the pages to save your spot, after all you are not some psychopath. You gazed out the window as the city of London faded into the countryside of England, it felt so quiet which was both strange and welcome since you really have not had a moment of silence since you were back in your hometown before leaving for America six months ago.

“Excuse me, would you mind if we joined you?” A voice from the hall asked, which silently told you that you must have left the door opened. You turned your head, ready to politely dismiss whoever was asking but-

“Oh Professor Moriarty, correct?” Your words escaped your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying, your sight and mouth working faster than your brain could process. Indeed the man from a few weeks prior at the docks was before you on the train, along with the other blonde man who you did not speak to at the docks and a brown haired man with the greenest eyes accompanying them.

“Miss (Name), I did not even realize it was you, what a pleasant surprise to see you again.” You gave William the same smile he gave you and silently gestured for the three of them to come into the compartment, after all the company could do you some good to take your mind off of things. William sat next to you and the other two gentlemen sat across from you both. William gestured to the both of them, specifically the one with brown hair first and then the blonde. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

“A pleasure to meet you both, my name is (Name). William and I met briefly at the docks in London when I was just arriving home from a trip to New York City.” You explained, though the explanation was more for Albert rather than Louis since you remember he was there despite him not saying away, but they both smiled in acknowledgement all the same. You glanced at William who was sitting next to you, and while your prior meeting was brief, he was the one you were most familiar with. “May I ask where you all are headed to?”

“I happen to teach mathematics at the university in Durham, but Albert is headed up there for business and Louis is managing our estate there.” He explained which drew a nod from his brothers. “And what about you?”

“Oh I am just visiting my mother and spending some time back in my hometown before heading back off into the world of editors and publishers.”

“You are from Alnwick, correct?” You heard Albert ask which caught you off guard and you nodded with a shocked expression on your face to his question which drew a laugh from him. “I just remembered William talking about one of your books and one of them taking place in the Alnwick Garden since that is your hometown.”

“Oh good, for a second I thought I had a stalker.” You laughed in relief which made everyone in the compartment break a smile at the very least, but then you suppose you do have a sort of stalker in the form of the Lord of Crime and that thought made your smile fade away. “But yes I am from Alnwick, but I moved to London when I started writing since my publisher and editor were located there and it was easier just walking to their office than having to take a whole long trip down there just to have an hour long meeting with them.”

“I suppose that does make sense.” William spoke with his own smile fading into a more relaxed expression. There was silence among you all once more for a minute or two before William chimed in again. “If I may ask another question, you just returned from America, I would think you would want to avoid travel for a time and stay in London to decompress and relax.”

“Well I just do not think I can relax there right now…” You answered, your gaze falling down to the book that sat in your lap with your finger wedged between its pages, your hands and palms especially growing a tad clammy. “…Since you are a fan of my books then I am sure you heard about what has happened with the Lord of Crime incidents involving two of them. My friends told me about it on the carriage ride back home and it has just been itching my mind in a way I do not like, so I decided some country air and family would do me some good.”

“I see….” It felt like William’s tone in voice changed slightly, growing darker, maybe drawing more into his thoughts for a moment, but only a moment. “Then I suppose it is a good thing to get away from all the commotion to recover from that shock.”

“I do hope so.”

You spent much of the train ride in silence, reading over the book you brought along with you, and then rereading it once you finished. Eventually the Moriarty brothers excused themselves to go to the dining car, they invited you but you rejected their offer since you would be having supper with your mother when you arrived in Alnwick and your mother would not you spoiling your appetite since she would certainly have company over to welcome your return, your grandparents who were still alive and your siblings if they were around. Besides, you wanted to look through your manuscripts and notes from America to see what you could use for your next novel since your stay in New York City was to force creation and inspiration and you certainly could not pull those out around William since you were told he was a fan of your work, spoiling something like your next novel would be cruel.

You read through your old writings and the scene of the city came flooding back to you. Honestly you wished you could go back now, forget about what has happened and just enjoy life, but now it feels like your lust for life has just vanished since Réne handed you those newspapers in the carriage when you and Alex returned home. You sighed, setting your papers, journal, and pen back on the seat and got up, a quick stretch and a trip to the washroom would do you some good. You slipped out from your and the Moriarty brother’s now empty compartment and into the hall. The train was fairly quiet this far into the trip you noted as you walked down the hall and looking around, one of the men in the compartments waving to you as you both made eye contact as you walked passed. The washroom was at the end of the cart while your compartment was at the front, you shut the washroom door after you and turned the lock so no one would walk in. You did not really need to use the bathroom, but you just really needed a change in scenery and a moment to freshen up, fixing your hair and running your hands over your dress to get the wrinkles out.

You smiled as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, remembering a book you wrote a few years prior. It was on a train like this, an American tycoon was found murdered in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times with his door locked from the inside. The victim was actually inspired by one of Alex’s brothers who you met when he came to London to visit her and to attend to work affairs, whatever that may be, you learned not to ask questions when it came to her family and their family business.

You opened the washroom door before you stepped out into the hallway and began to walk back to your compartment. You thought back to your gardens in your hometown, that would be a good place to write if it was a clear day, write a few chapters of your book over the next few weeks before coming back down and handing it off to your editor which would give you some time to relax in London while he works on that, you could probably have time to meet with that new poet who had just become a member at your club while you away in America, they were from Germany to believed and-

Your thoughts were cut off as you stepped in what sounded like a puddle, that was strange, you were on a train, did someone spill their drink? No that could not be it, you were in the washroom for such a short time that they would probably still be here, trying to clean it up. You looked down at your boot covered foot to see what you had stepped in…

“What?”

That cannot be right, the puddle was a dark crimson red, like blood, how was that possible? Your eyes followed where the puddle was coming from, leaking out from a door to your right that you passed while walking to the washroom. You looked up into the glass of the door…

And the scream that ripped from your throat must have alerted the whole train.

Dead, the man you passed by earlier was dead…

No, that was not possible…

You could not have been in the washroom for more than five minutes…

But there he was, dead.

You did not even realize that the train staff was pushing you out of the way as they came running to the scene. They were also taken by their shock and had to hold back their screams as they could handle the situation. One of them stepped forward, and attempted to open the compartment door…

“It’s locked.”

Your eyes widened at that statement.

This couldn’t be-

“Get her back to her compartment, she needs to sit down.” The voice of one of them told another and you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and guided you back to your compartment. The door opened and the Moriarty brothers were already back and to them you must look like you just met death, and in a way you did. You felt William’s hands come to take you by your forearms to guide you down to your seat next to him while Albert talked to the crewman, but you could not process what they were saying as Louis and William were checking to see if you were alright as far as your physical condition, but mentally…

You were a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down your face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body…

Especially a murder based on one of your books.

Stay safe, that is what Evelyn told you before you left, well you do not feel safe anymore.

—————————

It has been months since that incident and you find yourself back in your study back at your townhouse in London. Since then there has been an increase in the incidents based on your books, the last one that happened three days ago was the seventh, and honestly all of this was driving you a bit mad. You had shut yourself in your house most days, your maid running out to the market on your behalf and your assistant running errands to you and dropping chapters off at your editor’s office, the only time you really went out was when you went to the writer’s club, those four walls were a sanctuary for your troubled mind where you pull hear about the stories your friends wrote up or listen to the poetry readings from the other club members.

Your home on the other hand felt as if it grew a frightening aura, the place where you thought up of the tales and deaths in your stories that were an escape from reality became the source of actual deaths and mass murders. Your stories and tales became reality, not the fiction you intended to be.

As for the identity of the killer, no one has even a clue of who the Lord of Crime may be, not even any of your friends or yourself whose job was to write about mysteries and secrets. You all used to get your hands on old unsolved cases from Scotland Yard that were open to the public and solve them for fun as to get inspiration for your books, they were old and the culprit was long dead by the time you got your hands on the file, but this was something else entirely, this was an actual live and real threat.

It was late in the evening and you sat in an armchair in your drawing room, the evening’s newspaper in your lap and a cigarette in between the middle and index fingers of your right hand while a glass of red wine sat on the table next to you, it was an expensive vintage that Réne had gifted to you for your birthday. Across from you sat your friends, Lady Charlotte Basset in the other arm chair with a glass of wine herself along with Alex Pendel laying down your velvet sofa, her head propped up on the arm rest and a cigarette between her lips. Charlotte was a richly dressed woman, dark brown hair and green eyes that were only complemented by the emerald green dress she wore with her white fur shawl that you believed was mink fur. The two of them were going out to a music hall, a cabaret, later tonight but stopped here on the way to check up on you.

“You think this Lord of Crime likes the theater? Cause’ his crimes feel like one big act.” Alex said as she pulled the cigarette from her lips to speak and blow out a large puff of smoke into the air. “Think about it, it is suspected that he is behind the deaths on the Noahtic, and Réne was on it and he told me it literally ended up with them on the stage of the ballet, nearly scared some of the performers half to death apparently.”

“That is certainly one way to make a spectacle of your victims.” Charlotte added as she twirled the glass of red wine in her hand, but her eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, just gazing off as she loses herself in thought. “But you would need other people to assist with all of his little shows, as if the victim and killer are the cast then you would need the crew, the question is who are these allies to this so-called Lord of Crime?”

“Dunno, want me to write to my pop to ask him what he thinks.” Alex’s lips turned up in a teasing grin as she spoke those words. “Eh, but he’ll probably get pissed at the mention of what is happening to your books, I think my parents like you better than me.”

“As much as I love your family, I am not sure I want another crime lord to deal with in London.” You finally chimed in as you set your paper aside on the table next to you where your half finished glass of wine sat. “But honestly moving to America just sounds lovely right about now, do you think your parents will adopt me?”

“Probably.” Alex’s one word answer was responded with laughs from you and Charlotte. Then as silence settled in the drawing room there was a knock from the front door, your maid called out telling you that shade would get it, which allowed you all to continue your conversation. “But I am working on another rough draft for a book, but I am just stuck on the killer’s motive.”

“Oh, and what is your general idea?” Charlotte asked as you heard the sound of distant talking from the maid and your home’s visitor. “Are you going to write another novel with the notes from New York?”

“No actually, it is going to be about ten strangers who are invited to an isolated island by a mysterious host. And then they start to die one by one, leaving the remaining guests to realize that the killer is among them-“

“The problem with that is that the killer would unintentionally out themselves as such when they would be one of the people surviving.” An unfamiliar voice called out, butting in on your conversation. You all looked up to the doorway that led from the front entry into the drawing room and there stood next to your maid a young man, with messy dark hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail and eyes to match, he wore a simple button up and a black suit jacket and pants to match. “It’s just like how in that mass murder case six years back one of the survivors was the killer and they only found out years later when her son found her journal after she died.”

“Do… Do I know you?” You asked the stranger who had been let into your house and both Charlotte’s and Alex’s heads turned to look at him, Alex swung her legs over the edge of the couch so that she was sitting up straight in the presence of a stranger. The man walked up to you, walking past your friends present as if they did not exist and extended his hand to you to shake.

“The name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.” You noticed the glances of shock exchanged between Charlotte and Alex from where they sat. This was the famous detective of London, the best detective in the nation if not the world as a whole, and some of his cases did serve as inspiration for your novels. “You are the famous mystery author, Miss (Name), and if I had to guess your two friends are Alex Pendel, the American thriller novelist, based on her appearance on how she sits and the suit she is wearing was made and custom tailored by Catherine Donovan, I recognized it because my brother has suits made by her as well. Then your other friend is Charlotte Basset, another horror author, and she was by far the easiest to identify due to her father’s signet ring she wears on her thumb because it is too big for her ring finger.”

You watched as Alex began looking over her suit and the small brand initials that were embroidered on the cuff of her suit jacket and Charlotte looked down at the ring on her thumb which was indeed her father’s ring that he gave to her when she was a child because she kept on fidgeting with her hair and picking at her nails. You reached out to shake his hand, his rough calloused hands gripping your smaller gloved hands with a firm hold.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having the best detective in London in my home?” You asked as he released your hand, letting you sit back on your chair’s armrest. “Let me guess, it is because you found a scene in my book unrealistic like those detectives down at Scotland Yard.”

“Unrealistic, your work? Never, they just have never seen a murder scene like the ones in your books, like about a month ago I murder scene that reminded me a lot of one from one of your short stories, it was not linked to the Lord of Crime incidents as the culprit was of of the staff members but that is besides the point.” He grabbed the paper you had sat on the side table by your wine and pointed at the headline, it was about the murder of a duchess who had been abusing her staff and the crime was believed to be done by the Lord of Crime. “I would like you as my partner in solving this case.”

“Excuse me?” The words escaped your mouth in your state of surprise and you could see similar expressions on the faces of Alex and Charlotte. You pushed the hand that held the paper aside and the detective as a whole as you stood up from your seat. You walked across the room to where you fireplace stood, a small fire crackling in the hearth, above which on the mantle sat a collection of your books, custom hard back books that were bound by a book binder in your hometown who knew you as a child, a gift from the people who inspired you to write in the first place. “Mr. Holmes, I am a writer not a detective and I do not want to get more involved with this Lord of Crime mystery than I already am, it could destroy me.”

“But what if it doesn’t, you truly have nothing left to lose at this point.” You snapped your head around at him when he said that, sending him a sharp glare and you watched him stiff up for a moment before shaking it off, you heard him clear his throat and mention something about you reminding him of a Miss Hudson, whoever she is. “What I mean is you have not made a single public appearance since you returned to London from your time in the states and that is presumably about you finding about the related incidents to your work, then not to mention your physical appearance is a clear reflection of that previous observation, bags under your eyes and the redness around them presumably from you rubbing them shows you haven’t been sleeping. That’s not to mention the thin layer of dust I saw on the shoes and umbrella by the door, which shoes you have not been going out much-“

“I think she said she wasn’t interested and had no desire to be like you, Mr. Detective.” You watched as Alex stood up, walking up to where the detective stood, staring him down, and if there was one thing Alex was good at, it was being intimidating. “So please you can see yourself to the door.”

“But she is already like me, I have heard about you all at your club solving unsolved cases that Scotland Yard could never solve that are twenty, thirty, forty, even fifty years old. I think it is pretty obvious that you all are detectives in your own right.” Sherlock looks down at her as he speaks before snagging the cigarette from between her fingers and taking a smoke himself and you could just watch Alex grow more irritated by the second and was about to blow. “Now another thing I remember about my brother is the last time he stopped by he mentioned something about a certain crime family moving into England.”

You could just see Alex’s eyes grow wide while the rest of her face remained still. She stood there a moment before grabbing her cigarette from her detective and turning towards the entryway. “Cmon’ Charlotte, the show is at nine.”

You and Charlotte shot each other looks of disbelief as Alex made her way to the front door, but you just watched as she signed and downed the rest of her wine before setting her glass down on the end table near her seat before following after Alex, wrapping her mink fur tighter around her. You heard the front door open and close in your state of disbelief, leaving you and the detective alone. You both stood in silence for a long moment before he spoke up, breaking the lingering silence.

“So?”

“…What exactly do you need my help with?” Your question was begrudgingly asked and you just saw his expression light up like a child’s on Christmas when you finally gave in. “I cannot promise any help like I am an actual detective since I tend to approach situations how I would write them, I am an author first and foremost.”

“That’s fine, where is your study?” He was quick and straight to the point and you watched him walk out of your drawing room presumably to look for your study and home library. You watched as he walked to the doorway across from the doorway of your drawing room that was also connected to your entryway and he pushed open the doors to your study. You quickly followed him like you were a parent watching their excited child, trying to keep him wrong from wrecking anything. You cringed as he went behind your desk, looking at your manuscripts and journals that sat on top of it. “So this is where the great mystery author writes her stories. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see where you work or your work before it’s finished.”

“Um… yes, just please do not mess with anything, this is my life’s work after all.”

—————————

You have been working with the detective in your free time to try to solve this case, even then he would be showing up in your home while you were in your office writing or even when you were at the club, it got to the point where you maid had to tell him to stop showing up during your working hours since you needed to write in order to have a job and stay in business since you still had deadlines to meet. Your drawing room had been turned into a mess of Sherlock’s and your own clues, pieced and puzzled together, trying to find connections, though the difference between the two of your work was very clear, your clues were tucked in a series of folders, notebooks, and journals, meanwhile the detective’s were in the form of loose and sometimes torn up papers and notes that were now laid out throughout the carpet of your drawing room, you slightly feared that the carpet would stain with ink since it was a housewarming gift from your late father.

Despite all this, everything single clue you came across came to a dead end and led to no clear culprit. Your investigation made you truly realize what Alex meant when she told you one time how crime was truly a game, an act, to make it a spectacle for others to watch while the performers fight for control.

“How is your novel coming along?” Réne asked as you two sat in one of the lounges at the club. He sat on the couch across from your, his back pressed against the armrest so that his legs extended out on the cushions, he had his glasses resting atop his head so that they pushed back his hair as he worked on a sketch in his sketchbook that he had propped up on the thigh of his leg that was on the outside end of the couch that was bent into a V-shape. “Still struggling with that villain of yours?”

“I am afraid so, I have all the events laid out, the deaths and what not and how the killer did it, but I still have no motive for them.” You explained as you watched the maid of the club pour you a cup of an earl gray tea that Charlotte got for you all from a new tea shop a few blocks away from the writer’s club. You sat on an identical couch to Réne, though much more ladylike as you were about to have tea and not to mention the morning’s newspaper, that you had yet to read, resting on your lap. “Every time that it mentions the killer’s motive I just skip it over and leave it blank-“

“Sugar ma’am?”

“Two please, a dash of cream as well.” You answered the maid’s question as she prepared your tea for you before continuing on. “It is by far the worse writer’s block I have experienced to date, it has been weeks since I started writing and it would be practically finished if I could figure out my villains just give him life.”

“It is a him?”

“Yes… I think so anyway- oh thank you.” You cut yourself off as the maid handed you your cup of tea. You held the saucer in your left hand while you brought the teacup up to your lips, taking a sip to wet your throat. “But honestly this case with Mr. Holmes, trying to uncover this Lord of Crime has left me all sorts of frazzled that I cannot tell up from down when I return home at the end of the day, so I honestly think that I have my novel’s villain as some version of this Lord of Crime, a figure who cannot place, so close yet so far, just out of reach… I probably sound like a raving mad woman right now, don’t I?”

“A bit, yes.” Réne answered which grew a small giggle from you. His eyes never lifted from his paper as he spoke, his fingers still twirling around the pencil as he drew. “Speaking of our Lord of Crime problem, how many of your books are left in his little… hm….”

“Recreations?”

“Yes, that is the word I am looking for!” He said with a slight enthusiasm creeping into his voice as he flicked his pencil in the air at your answer. “But yes, how many are left? He has probably covered all your famous works by now.”

“Yes… well let me think….” Your voice faded for a moment as you went over your books in your head, the number of incidents has increased since your partnership with the famous, though not by choice, Sherlock Holmes had begun, but surely there had to be at least three or so books left, right? Well there was- no that was the first incident that happened while you were abroad in America. What about- no not that one either, you remember seeing that in the morning paper when Sherlock came running into your townhouse about it when you first started working. Then there was a moment of realization as you sat there, staring down at your tea, reflecting your face that has grown and probably aged a few years due to these cases. “…no.”

“No? That’s not a number- oh… that… I… I’m sorry.” Réne stopped his sketching in his realization, you could just practically see his expression when the silence was practically yelling at you.

“…Réne, since there are no books left, what if I am next?” Your question was just followed by more silence then you heard Réne’s pencil quickly scribble something on his paper before you heard the ripping of paper and the shifting of limbs as the fabric of his pants rubbed against the velvet couch cushions. He slammed his drawing down on the table between the two of you, where the tea set sat. You looked down at it and it was presumably of a man in a black coat and hat, but his face was covered by a smiling mask, the Lord of Crime, but across his neck was a thick and scribbled line as if he was beheaded. You looked up at Réne and he had a comforting smile across his face.

“Then I will do everything in my power to unmask him and protect you.” He fell back onto his couch, throwing his arms across the back rest, crossing his legs. “You are one of my best friends and he would be fool to think that I would not risk my own neck to protect you, and I know for a fact that Evelyn, Charlotte, and Alex would do the same… hell honestly Alex would be the worse enemy to have, she could make one call to her father and… well it would not be pretty and that is for certain.”

“Thank you, a friend like you is truly a rare thing, let alone four friends like you all.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

The terrible silence had faded into a more pleasant and comfortable silence, but you looked down at the drawing and into those black hole of the mask where the eyes would be, faceless and unsettling that gave you a creeping feeling up your spine.

God it was unsettling…

It made you feel like you were being watched…

Just please make it stop…

Stop…

Stop…

STOP!

As if by reflex, you sprung up out of your chair and snatched up the drawing from the table, and this drew Réne’s attention to you again as a concerned expression set in on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Alright… alr- Yes! I am perfectly fine, I… I just remembered I… I meant to send a letter to my mother and I left it in my study back home, I-I just really needed to do that!” A lie, that honestly you did not know why you told it, not even the slightest clue as to why. You grabbed your messenger bag from the ground, throwing it over your shoulder. “I-I should go do that, before I forget to and the post office closes.”

“O-oh, alright?” Réne seemed unsure of your sudden shift in behavior. “Do you need me to walk you home-“

“No!- I… I mean I’ll be alright….” You two once again stood in a tense silence as you looked back at each other with equally confused expressions. “…bye.”

You could only say that as you turned on your heel as you walked to the door of the club, the maid giving you your hand and coat as you were about to leave which you put on in a rush as you tried to get out the door to get out of the gazes of your friends and colleagues.

You stumbled out onto the streets of Mayfair, you did not bother trying to get a hackney, you needed the fresh air that is what you needed, you think. You nervously fidgeted with the strap of your messenger bag as you walked down the street, your eyes darting around at the brick pavement beneath your feet, not bothering to watch where you are going since the way back home was practically muscle memory-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you, an all too familiar scene for you, but you suppose that is what you get for not watching where you are going.

“I am so sorry- Miss (Name), we have met like this before have we not?” That voice was familiar to you, you looked up to see the smiling face of Professor William James Moriarty looking down at you, his gloved hand outstretched to you like that day at the docks on your return home. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked over your form as you took his hand and he pulled you up from the ground. “Are you alright? You look rather pale?”

“Y-yes… I-I am… No?…. Maybe- I really don’t know right now, I-I… I can’t think- god what is wrong with me?” You could not get your mind straight, your hands felt clammy and tingly… your entire arms at that… god was it always this hard to breathe? You can’t think, oh god why can’t you think? “I fear I am going mad, Profe- William.”

“You are trembling- oh dear, you are having a panic attack.” You could not process him coming to stand by your side, taking your messenger bag from you and his other hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades. “My family’s estate is only a few buildings down, let’s get you inside and sit down and Louis can make you a cup of tea, does that sound okay?”

“Y-yes, I think.”

“Okay, just take deep breaths.”

Your vision and memory came in flashes between sight and darkness… walking down the road, turning into a Mayfair estate with an iron fence with a red brick base beneath it… William pushing open the door and calling out to someone as he guided you into the drawing room… Him guiding you to lay down on the sofa in the room while someone else came into the room.

You could feel William’s hand held onto yours, letting you have something to ground yourself on, and you could hear William’s voice telling you…

“Take deep breaths, in and out.”

In and out…

In and out…

In and out.

His voice served as your thoughts, allowing you to calm down from the height of your panic attack. You could finally process what was before you, a white ceiling. You could process what you felt, the fabric of your dress, the velvet of the Moriarty drawing room couch, the warmth and leather from William’s gloved hand that held onto your own.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” You heard William ask you as you pushed yourself up with your free hand that was not squeezing the life out of William’s hand. “Louis is making you some tea, he nearly got a fright at seeing you in a panic, ran off to the kitchen in a rush- oh just lay down! You are probably light headed or dizzy, just wait to sit up until your tea is ready.”

“O-okay… thank you William.”

“It is the least I can do.”

A few minutes passed before the scent of citrus and spice hit your nose as Louis stepped into the room, setting the tea tray on the low table between all the pieces of lounge furniture in the room. William set a hand on your lower back, helping you sit as Louis poured a cup of tea for you. Louis gave William the cup of tea to hold with his free hand while his other hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, which was wiser than letting you hold it since your hands were shaking violently still.

“I am s-sorry… I-I…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about, my dear.” William replied as your voice trailed off into your scrambled thoughts. “It is natural to experience such fits under stress… which reminds me, if I may ask, what is on your mind?”

“Um… a lot….” You laughed after those two words, laughing at your madness as you ran your fingers through your hair and tugging slightly, your hat had fallen to the ground when William laid you down and Louis had picked it up and set it on the table. “My novel still has no antagonist, at least not one with a motive to kill nine other people- t-then not to mention I have to worry about a detective, who may or not be the love of my life of the bane of my existence but I may just be thinking that because I am going mad, and him appearing in my house at any hour of the day because he think he found a lead with the blasted Lord of Crime case- AND! That’s the other thing, this Lord of Crime, all of my books have been made a horrible reality by him and now there are not any books left and I have an aching fear in the back of my mind that I am next… I… I really am going mad, aren’t I?”

“You are not mad, you are in distress which is only natural, dear.” He said as he guided the tea cup into your hands, his hand coming to rest on the back of your own to keep you from dropping the cup as you brought it up to your lips and taking a sip. “Perhaps the Lord of Crime is just a fan of your work, I doubt he would dare to lay a finger on you.”

“Well he is certainly a fan I do not wish to have.” You said as the cup of tea parted from your lips and William set it back down on the table with a soft clinck. “This all has been driving me mad… honestly working with him has only made it worse, he is like an eager puppy.”

“By he, you mean the detective you are working with who I am guessing to be a Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” William stated but it sounded more like a question so you hummed softly in response. “I have met him a number of times before, brilliant mind, just a bit childish under certain circumstances. Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

“Done? Whatever do you mean?”

“I… I cannot finish my next book, maybe my unfinished antagonist was a sign to stop while I am ahead.” You were facing forward, towards the table, so you could not see the sorrow and pain come across William’s face. “If I stop writing, then the Lord of Crime has nothing else to work with and no one else gets hurt because of me.”

“I… please think about this-“

“I have to go… I need to visit my publisher.” You stood up from the couch with your unsteady legs, grabbing your hat from the table. You did not spare William a glance as you made your way to the door, only words. “I am sorry William, I know you enjoyed my books, but I can’t live with myself if this happens again.”

The estate grew silent as you let, the front door closing being the last bit of sound within the house. Tears fell from William’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, but his face remained emotionless. There was a few minutes of silence before his eyes fell on your messenger bag you had left behind. He tried telling himself it was wrong to go through your belongings, but what harm could it do now?

He grabbed the messenger bag from the ground, setting it on his lap as he opened it. He pulled out the contents one by one, makeup, pens, pencils, loose notes with plot thoughts of character ideas, but the two that caught his eyes more than anything else was a drawing, the drawing of the faces Lord of Crime from Réne, and a stack of papers that were bound in a leather portfolio, your unfinished masterpiece.

—————————

You stood in your study, tucking old papers and notes away into boxes to put in your cellar. You could not find your unfinished manuscript, you just assumed you must have left it at the Moriarty estate but it really did not matter since that book would never be seeing its conclusion. You had already written to your editor and met with your publisher, ending your partnership with both of them. As for work for the time being you made a enough money from your book sales still that you would be comfortable for a while, but maybe once things have settled in a few months or a year’s time you would accept one of those teaching jobs as a professor that had been offered to you at women's colleges in Oxford or Cambridge. Or your other thought was moving back up to your hometown in Northern England and help your mother with her shop, disappearing into the shadows forever.

You heard a knock at your front door which was followed by the footsteps of your maid as she went to answer it. You closed the lip on the last of the boxes, setting it on top of the stack of the others that had been packed by you earlier, when the doors to your office burst open to reveal the overly eager detective.

“Miss (Name), I think I found-“ Sherlock cut himself off as he stepped inside your emptied study, looking around only to see your life’s work in boxes, ready to be hidden away forever. He was clearly taken aback by all this, looking around the room with an uncertain eye. “What’s all this then?”

“I am quitting, Mr. Holmes.” That was all you needed to say for the detective’s expression to turn to disbelief at hearing your words. “Every single one of my worlds has been tarnished by this Lord of Crime and honestly I do not want to write another book just to give more fuel to the fire.”

“So you are just giving up?” The detective snapped back at you, taking you by surprise now. He was clearly angry and annoyed at your choice, that was certainly clear. “You are just laying down and choosing to die, is that it?!”

“Sherlock, I cannot continue to write when it will sentence people to death!” You yelled at him, gesturing back into the drawing room across the hall where stacks of clues and evidence sat on any flat surface, waiting to be cleaned up next after you packed everything up in the cellar. “Do you know how many people were going to die in my next book if I finished and published it?”

“No-“

“Nine! Nine people and their blood would be on my hands!” You cut him off with a shout, you could feel tears building up in your eyes as you yelled at him. “I can hardly live with myself knowing that my twisted works of fiction have become reality and taken so many lives, the least I can do is spare nine more.”

“We could catch him and you could continue your books-“

“Enough!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, and you watched as the detective grew red in the face as he became more and more angry and irritated at your actions. “I am not doing this anymore, I… I can’t… you are a detective, your job revolves around reality, I am… I was an author, I wrote fiction and I never wanted it to become reality.”

“Damn it all! It is all his fault! God damn this Lord of Crime” He shouted at you before rolling his eyes with the shake of his head and a heavy scoff. He turned on his heel, waving you off as he walked towards the front door of your townhouse. “Find me if you change your mind, but I won’t give up unlike you.”

You stood alone in your office as the front door opened and slammed shut which drew a squeak in surprise from your maid who was brewing tea in the kitchen for you. You leaned back on your desk, a sandalwood desk, a gift you got for yourself when your sales blew up after your first book which secured your position in England’s high society with your new money. The desk cost you what your childhood home cost when your mother and father bought it a few months before they had you. You worked to where you are today, living in an expensive townhouse in Mayfair, an area famous for its affluent residents, upscale shopping streets like Bond Street, world-class art galleries, exclusive members-only clubs, and its reputation as a luxurious and high-end area of London. You grew up in a small town, making flower crowns with your friends and jumping in the nearby creek that was by your childhood home, now you drink wine and champagne at parties held at manors of Dukes and Duchesses and wearing dresses that costed more money than your parents ever had when you were a child. You went on trips to Paris to study the catacombs and watch the Opera and went to New York to experience the nightlife and parties on Long Island and overhear what happened in the back rooms of the mansions of these new money families that controlled the country, divided among these families.

Your books let people indulge themselves into their dark thoughts without it being considered scandalous but rather a new trend, a competition to be exact, and in the words of Evelyn when she first met you…

“Everyone in London wants to know what is going on in that twisted little mind of yours to come up with the things you do.” It was at a high society party when she told you that, pulling you aside into the drawing room of the manor you were in, giving you a joint to smoke that you found out was from Alex’s family that may or may not have had the tobacco mixed with some form of cannabis, giving you both a small high, which definitely made clear where Evelyn’s moments of inspiration for her books came from that were full of pure body horror. “But then again, they all are obsessed with what they cannot fathom and what they are horrified by, it gives them a thrill, like a drug.”

There was a reason why the most popular authors of the age were of the macabre and gruesome, and Evelyn could not have phrased it any better, they were fascinated by what they could not or did not wish to fathom…

Alex’s stories let people see into the world of the mafia of the new world, romanticized in many ways, but the moods they elicit, giving their audiences heightened feelings of suspense, excitement, surprise, anticipation and anxiety, giving them a thrill. Fear of getting caught in a sex scandal or perhaps trying to hide a body before someone finds out that you were the one who rammed a knife into their skull.

Charlotte's novels touch on fundamental issues of human existence: the nature of the soul, the weighty fact of mortality, and the burden of ancestry and history. Spirits represent heavy-handed instruments of supernatural justice, plunging those responsible for their deaths into a living hell where they suffer for their sins. This world and what comes after.

Réne’s books are all about the terror within, not without. His work shatters the illusion of humanity in a poignant wayby holding a mirror up to society and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be. Under that mask of civility, there is depravity. Under that thin veneer of society, there is wickedness. Under all the trappings of sophistication, are we not all predators or prey?

Little Evelyn had a wicked little mind, her genre examines a universal fear: our own failing anatomies. You rarely think about what goes on beneath your skin. You understand that the organs operate in harmony: the heart beats, the lungs pump air, and the gastrointestinal system labors to supply us with nutrients. But you don't ponder like she does the minutiae. Like whether embryonic parasites encyst in our brains, or what stage of cirrhosis we might be facing, or if tumors bloom deep in parts of ourselves we hope never to see. You have seen a grown man, an inspector at Scotland Yard at that, vomit after reading an excerpt from one of her books.

Your works on the other hand gave the people a taste of psychological suspense and atmosphere, developed as all the characters' innermost secrets are revealed, there is usually also a gradual build-up of tension before the murders actually occur, as if everything could slip at any moment and everyone’s secrets would be revealed and the world would all but crash and burn all around them, and the people along with it. The key factor, though, is that there is usually some ingenious piece of deception involved, just like how the Lord of Crime has been deceiving London with his mask and his show, drawing them all in all along, and now you were about to crash and burn with it all…

You shared Sherlock’s thoughts when he said damn it all…

Your maid was cleaning up the drawing room from all the papers and clues from your useless investigation with the detective when you finally came out of your study, your face stained red and swollen with your tears and six envelopes in your hands. Your maid looked up at you with a worried expression in her eyes as she saw the state of your face.

“My lady, are you alright-“

“Yes….” You took a nervous breath as you approached her, your heeled boots clicking on the hardwood at first which made your heart skip a beat, which was enough in your scared state of mind. You reached out to your maid with the envelopes in that hand, forcing a smile to come across your face as you did. “Could you drop these off at the post? They are to a number of my friends along with my mother and Mr. Holmes. You can head home after that, I think I shall turn in early tonight and I can handle this mess, after all I did make it with Mr. Holmes.”

“O-oh, very well my lady.” She responded as she took the envelopes from your hand, tucking them into her apron pocket. You stood there in the drawing room, swallowing the lump in your throat as you listened to the footsteps of your maid as she grabbed her coat and hat from the coat closet. You heard the front door open and then her voice called out to you. “Do you wish for me to pick up anything for you when I come back in the morning, My Lady? I remember seeing the bakery two blocks away selling a new sampler box of macarons, apparently their new patissier is from Florence in Italy.”

“Thank you, but I shall be alright.”

“Alright, goodnight then my lady.”

“Goodbye.”

—————————

It was a lovely spring day in London, a rare day without a cloud in the sky. William was walking down the street, his eyes fixed on a letter in his gloved hand that he received this morning, it was penned in your handwriting and the messenger boy said it was dropped off at the post office along with five other letters by a woman who matched the description of your maid, who he had met along with Louis when they ran into her by chance at the local bookstore when he was picking up a copy of your latest book, she and your assistant, a young lady who was hoping to be a journalist one day and you had taken her under your wing, were dropping of signed copies that you were donating to the shop, your maid told the brothers that you would have dropped them off yourself but you were leaving for a six month long trip to the Americas, New York City specifically, so you could research something you were curious on with the night life of that side of the world and who ran it.

He spotted the house with the address on the envelope, 600 North Audley Street, which was, as the street name suggested, just north of Grosvenor Square in Mayfair. The house has a number of barricades around it and a number of officers of Scotland Yard along with four other figures, all of them he recognized, Sherlock Holmes with no sight of Dr. John H. Watson, there were also the famous authors Réne Drew, Lady Charlotte Basset of York, and the little miss Evelyn Jay, and all of them, including the detective, held a letter similar to the one William held, but all of their faces were riddled with worry, except Sherlock Holmes, but William knew he would crack in private.

“I see you all have received letters like myself.” William called out to the bunch who awaiting outside of the door of your townhouse, looking around he also spotted your house’s maid and your own personal assistant sitting on the brick stairs that led up to your front door, surrounded by Scotland Yard officers asking them questions which explains why he could not see them from afar, but they were in such a state of shock that neither of them could hardly answer a single question and even if they could, they did not know the answer. William held up the piece of paper he received with a smile. “I see we all know the author.”

“And who you might be?” Lady Charlotte snapped at him, her eyes narrowing. William knew a bit about her and her family, her brother had been suspected of murder a number of years ago, the summer before their writing club was founded to be exact, which while the heir of the family was found innocent this fact about the club led William to believe she had something to do with it especially since the victim was the man she was arranged to be married to. Her face was as rigid as her clothing looked, a scarlet red gown that probably costs more than most dresses women of the town could even afford and her signature white mink shawl. “I do not recall (Name) ever mentioning you before-“

“Well I certainly did not expect to see you here, Liam.” Sherlock cut the lady author off as he laid eyes upon the mathematics professor. “This is Professor William James Moriarty, a friend of mine, but I am surprised you knew Miss (Name). Now I truly wished we all could have met that day on the train back from York, a competition with one worthy opponent is one thing but with two is another entirely! I thought for a time she might be the Lord of Crime if her behavior did not show otherwise and the evidence proved her innocence under every instance-“

“Would you shut up!? Do not mention this whole Lord of Crime bullshit now!” Réne snapped at the detective, seizing him by the collar and bringing his face close to his own as the French author was filled with a rage that was clear as day. William had heard that the famous Réne Drew was normally a calm and composed man, maybe a bit too relaxed due to his occasional indulgence in wine and the arts, but this was a different man entirely based on their behavior. “My best friend is missing and you thought she was was the fucking Lord of Crime?! Was that the only reason you wanted to work with her?! Answer me, damn it!”

“She is what?” William was shocked by this statement by the Frenchman, he must have looked like a surprised cat when he heard his, eyes wide but the rest of his face remaining still, because all faces turned to him, but the young Evelyn Jay was the one who approached him, and she was the one who appeared most unbothered by the situation if bothered at all.

“It did not mention it in your letter, telling you that she is not to be looked for and that no one would find her even if they tried.” She handed William her letter and it indeed had written what she claimed it did, but it was far different than his own which he handed to the young lady to read, which she did do so. He had only really heard rumors about the morbid young author, that she watches illegal awake surgeries as inspiration for her books or that she had been in the habit of paying people to steal dead bodies for her so she could see how the human body would react to various situations that would be highly traumatic on the body so she could use that for her books. Evelyn calmly read his letter silently before handing it back to him. “It would seem that Professor Moriarty received a different letter than the rest of us seeing as he was not informed of her disappearance. But it is indeed true, she went missing sometime last night, her house is an absolute disaster, but Mr. Holmes found that was done by her due to nothing highly valuable or sentimental being damaged, proving there was not a real struggle, but a set up but the reason why is still unknown. Her maid and assistant were the ones to find the staged scene this morning when they arrived together this morning after having breakfast at a nearby bakery, scared them half to death, then the rest of us arrived not long after, rushing here after we received the letters-“

“Sorry I’m late!” A feminine voice with a thick New York accent called out from down the road, the same direction William arrived in. Everyone looked to see Miss Alex Pendel, dressed in her favorite red suit which drew stares from anyone who did not know her. William had heard about her family, a crime family who practically has all of the state of New York in the palm of their hand; the city that shared the name was the heart of their organization. She waved in her hand a slip of paper that did not look remotely similar to the ones the other held, her own was a telegram, so someone had sent for her when they found out she was missing the three other authors present were the most obvious suspects. But the American author was a part of your inner circle like the other three, so why did she not receive a letter? “Seems like everything that I was told is true, she really is missing.”

“Yes, it is good to see you received my telegram, Alex.” Evelyn chimed in, glancing past William to her closest friend. So Evelyn was the one to send the telegram, but the question was how did she know Alex was the only one not to receive one. Evelyn glanced around at the others who must have been coming to a similar conclusion as the professor. “I figured that (Name) may not write to Alex since she had just returned home from a trip from the Netherlands last night, I only knew she was back because I was the one who fetched her from the docks.”

“I see.” William responded to the young lady’s gleeful tone. She twirled around the center of the circle of the geniuses to face William once again with that ever so innocent smile on her face which was almost unsettling in these circumstances which made William think perhaps to look back into those rumors he heard about her before. “If she is missing then what shall we do since she does not wish to be found?”

“A competition! Let us see who can find her first!” The smile on her face grew even wider when she said those words, this was a game to her, just like the aristocrat who perished on the Noahtic for hunting humans for sport, the difference being that she has a good heart beneath all the gore and horror. “I do not know about you professor, but the rest of us are all forms of crime related geniuses both fictional and reality.”

There was a stunned silence among the other authors, and a smile coming across Sherlock’s face in glee at the idea. William heard a scoff from the American author next to him and he glanced over to her to see her with an expression he could not quite place. “Pass, I’m afraid I will be returning to America in a few weeks.”

“So soon? You went on that trip with (Name) a few months ago?” Evelyn’s smile falters into an expression of curiosity as Alex makes that comment. “I remember you telling us how much your family enjoyed (Name’s) company.”

“There is no need to remind me about their favoritism.” Alex snapped back at her friend before quickly calming back down with a sigh. “But yes, I am afraid so, I need to get some papers settled with my father and brothers about some changes to our family’s mansion.”

That day of your panic attack…

“Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

A small smile came across William’s face as he recalled this and looked at Miss Alex Pendel…

So that is why you did not write to her.

—————————

The heat of the summer day had faded away with sunset, leaving the countryside of England to grow quite a chill as you walked through the dark country paths on your way to the train station, if it could be called that since it was more of a platform as there was no building beside the ticket office from where you bought your ticket the day prior, that as a short walk from the small town you were staying in in a house provided by Alex’s family who aided you in stage it your disappearance a few months prior, three months to be exact. Alex had visited you a few day ago upon her return from her brief trip to her hometown to let you know that everything was ready for your arrival, she gave you a boat ticket, and told you that her mother and father would pick you up upon your arrival and then your new life would begin and this life would be eased into nothing but history, a small price to pay to rid yourself from your old life that had been absolutely tarnished. Your time in America had inspired you for another story, it was not a crime, but a romance influenced by the environment you have seen in both England with the old and new money, and then America with the lively atmosphere there. You had not thought much about it besides the name of one of the characters, the flowers outside your cottage door in this small town you had been staying in these last few months were daisies, you always liked those flowers and that name, Daisy.

You walked up the stairs of the train platform and it was very dark, you could hardly see without the lamp posts that guided your way. Now as you stood at the edge of the train platform you could see a distant figure sitting on one of the benches. There was only one lamp that was posted over the ticket office door, so you could not see the details of the figure who sat on the bench. You could hear the distant whistles of the train, it was a few miles away but you could hear it clearly due to the dead silence of the countryside at night. Your boots clicked against the ground as you approached the bench next to the figure who you assumed was waiting for the train. You sat down on the other bench, setting your hard back suitcase on the ground next to you before reaching into your pocket and pulling out your pack of cigarettes and a match, you lit your cigarette that you places between your lips to hold it along with your other hand that did not hold your match and right as you were about to shake out the flame from the match you heard footsteps of the person on the other bench get up and approach you, making you stop and pause. The fire illuminated the person’s features in a flickering light as you looked up at him, and your expression was taken by shock as he smiled down at you with those red eyes.

“Professor Moriarty… What in god’s name are you doing here?” You pulled away the cigarette from your lips as you spoke to him, looking up at his smiling expression with a confused gaze as your eyes were locked with his which reminded you of blood. Something was not right, you had no doubt in your mind that William went to your house after receiving your letter which told him he could keep the unfinished work you left at his home as a gift to him for his kindness to you, but was he looking for you like the others were in their little competition?

“I finished reading the work you left me on the train ride here and I have to say it is by far your best work.” He spoke, completely ignoring the question you asked which gave you a pounding worry and anxiety in your chest.

“Thank you… but I must ask you to answer my questi-“

“Your killer, the method in which they did it truly fooled me, I never expected them to fake their own death.” You could feel the pounding in your chest as you looked up at the professor who still did not answer your question. You could feel the anxiety and worry in your chest turn into dread as you looked in his red eyes, just like blood.

“William-“

“They do lack a motive still, I remember you mentioning that you were struggling with that detail.” You saw him raise his right hand in your peripheral vision, but you could not quite see what he was holding as your eyes were still locked with his own. “But perhaps I can help?”

You were almost afraid to break eye contact with him and look at what he was holding, god you felt sick, but why?! You felt William’s gloved hand turn your head slightly but gently, forcing you to look at what he was holding, it was Réne’s drawing of the Lord of Crime, or as he titled it at least.

Wait-

That was it!

Your eyes widened in shock and horror at your realization…

That question you asked to Réne the day of your panic attack…

“Since there are no books left, what if I am next?”

You turned your head to look at William once again and when his scarlet red eyes narrowed at you in the darkness, only lit by the fire of your match for your cigarette, it sent shivers down your spine.

“You are the Lord of Crime.”

“Correct, I have to say I have been wondering if you or Mr. Holmes would figure it out first, but it seems you beat him to it even if I had to spell it out for him.” The smoke was building up between the two of you as your cigarette was just burning up, and the smoke was almost making it hard to breathe. Your palms were growing sweaty in your terror, correction, your entire body was burning up like your cigarette and the flame on your match and his smile certainly did not help with that. “I first found out about one of your books when an associate of mine was reading one of your novels on the way back from the mission site. While Louis did not fancy it that much, he did recommend it to me and I will say I was skeptical at first but then I have to say I was proven wrong when I opened up one of your books. People read your books to be taken into the mind and the world of someone they cannot fathom or do not wish to, but honestly when reading your works it is finally a world I can understand, a world created by someone who can understand my mind and keep up with me. I wondered if your fictional crimes could survive in the real world so I took a risk and tested my theory and followed your books like a script and I have to tell you my dear that you fooled everyone.”

“You realize I could report you now, do you not? You have not only revealed yourself but the identity of one of your associates with the mention of your brother.”

“Yes, but I doubt that you will have the chance.” Before you could ask what that meant he spoke up again, drowning out the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind between his voice and your loud heartbeat that roared in your ears already. “Question, if I gave you back your unfinished work, would you finish your villain?”

“Not a chance.”

“Shame.”

Your match went out and everything went black.

—————————

You did not like the new weight on your left hand ring finger, it made it far too difficult to hold paper down when you wrote and it made your fingers feel swollen not to mention how it smears the ink, but William insisted you wear it now since you are to be married in a month's time. You cringed at the thought of being married, especially to him, you two had already met with your publisher earlier this week to have your pen name changed to switch to your future last name for any future printings of your novels.

Then there was also the gossip of these entitled little rich girls who romanticize your engagement to him and you heard the gossip as you walked through the streets on William’s arm saying how they wished to be in your place and you just wanted to tell them they could be, it would be a good reality check for them. Then there were your friends, you have not seen any of them in months, Réne, Evelyn, and Charlotte not since before your disappearance, and then Alex you have not seen some you were engaged. You could not make yourself face any of them now, it would make you sick-

“Dear, are you alright? You look rather pale.” William’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you were back in the drawing room of the Moriarty brother’s estate in Durham, William thought it would be good for you not to be England when your newest book releases so you could avoid the press and fans, all who wanted their questions about you answered, and needless to say William did not want those questions answered.

“Yes… I just find myself out of it nowadays.” You answered as your eyes were still fixed on the cup of tea Louis had poured for you a few minutes prior. You heard William sigh and close the book he was reading and setting it down where he was sitting to move over to where you were sitting on the sofa.

“You have not touched a single cup of tea since you started writing again-“

“Since you kidnapped me.”

“I did what was best for you, it was eating you alive not to pick up a pen again.” He snapped back to your correction of his statement. William sighed as he places a hand over one of your own that was resting on your thigh and he spoke to you with a tone that almost trickled you into believing he cared about you. “I only want what is best for you and you will only strain yourself if you continue to push everyone away like you are.”

You just rolled your eyes and let your mind drift off again as you thought back on these last few cruel months that started all the way back upon your return to England, you should have just stayed in New York…

Ten little Soldier Boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine…

Nine little Soldier Boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight…

Eight little Soldier Boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven…

Seven little Soldier Boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six…

Six little Soldier Boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five…

Five little Soldier Boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four…

Four little Soldier Boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three…

Three little Soldier Boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two…

Two little Soldier Boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one…

One little Soldier Boy left all alone; He went out and hanged himself…

and then there were none….

…you have to live with the fact that your book took nine more lives and had to hope that one day the tenth would join the others sooner than later.

[adoregojo]

1967 ➡︎ isagi.y x reader

IM ALIVE!! YAHOOOOO!! btw i have an exam in a few hours, and here where my sudden passion for writing comes back. anyone enjoy this isagi x reader fic here. btw readers gender is unmentioned.

something was always missing from isagi yoichi's life.

the symbolizes dull blue man remains in his place, examining the disgustingly rich guests passing him with the priceless cologne reeking to his lungs and everywhere making it impossible to ignore and trying to not block his nose holes was a challenge itself.

it was in the fact that he didn't want to be here, the urge to isolate himself eventually loses against his duty. being a man, a soldier who was protecting nothing but the greediest class poor excuse of a human beings.

Isagi would've like to say he was one of hundreds who excepted this job, but he wasn't unfortunately. more like he was pushed into it so his so called comrades could take a free ride out of their job.

he let out a breath, it was just to guard the gate until the show ends, right? he'll just go with the flow for now. like he always does.

half of the shows were ridiculous if you ask him, what was so funny about a man beaming his loathing into dark jokes, isagi could never get the rich humor, not like he ever wanted to. he was sure half of these laughs were focused on and he couldn't find it in himself to even spare a smile.

the other display was a musical performance, a tribute by a group of people spreading imitation melody his ears were abhorrent by. this song was so dusty he couldn't believe that some actually clapped for that. affluent were easy to impress, he guessed.

and for the end and final play was about to begin, and finally he'll be done with this crap and leave this stump of a place. go to the bar and have a drink or two will do that,,

there he could see a somone who was he could guess in is age on the stag peeking nervously behind the curtain, clung to it for your dear life. he couldn't get a good picture out of you nor your face before the show started,,

#1

you took a deep breath in and out, something you do every time to keep yourself at bare minimum of sanity. peeping through wouldn't hurt, but it hits so hard how countless of people were there caused you sudden stomach aches.

the worst part that all of them came out obviously disinterested! not even paring down a glance to the stag you were gonna stand up at in the next six minutes. you were in you twenties and feeling this anxious should've been in the past, well guess old habits die hard.

you told yourself that your were here to give off a show that non of these cheap moneybags that'll never escape one's mind.

even if you felt your soul leaving your body as you step out to everyone's eyes judging from your body to your face and appearance whole, fighting the urge to melt out of humiliation was strong yet you were far capable.

it was now or never.

a dose of confidence washed over you as the music played, it was meant to be a soothing melody that made the audience feel the pure emotion out of every movement you made.

this was your life, to dance. not for others, but for yourself. humans were nothing but just the witnesses to your purpose of existence. this is where you felt alive, closing your eyes to the endless void that grasped you tightly than any other creature could.

guiding the tips of your feet in it meant placement of the dance, where the gravity is losing against you and floating was viable. where no one could tell you what to do with the occult place you rot into.

let them see since that'll be the only thing they can do.

#2

this wasn't like anything isagi saw.

it was not about the music, the audience, it was about the person who managed to take his heart and soul to their performances. every movement made his heart swirling in endless fondness.

he couldn't take his overset eyes off, he couldn't find it in his heart to even blink 'cause if he did so he'll miss it and it'll end before he knows. the depths of his obscure soul felt pure something you only feel when you watch people on the big screen yet it lifted your heart to it.

isagi's mind doesn't process the fact that the melody was long gone and echoing sounds of clapping and cheering were unheard, this is where the world, the universe itself were at a halt.

you raised up from your bowed state. something called, it was begging you to turn around and spare it a glance. and you did unintentionally, there you were meet by the most beautiful set of an eyes adoring you ceaselessly.

you were sweaty and definitely had a few flying out of place locks, but that man tenderly gaze embracing you says otherwise. out of all those people, out of them all he outshined them.

yet the locked eye contact doesn't last, it had to end before you had any chance to talk to him. to even approach him before being dragged out.

#2

well, isagi did end up at the bar he wanted to be in. and it didn't feel this empty before. caressing the glass of hallway wine with his thumb, until he sees his sad reflection on then persuades to hide his face in his arm's elbow. he looked like an old man grieving over his youth. and most of all he felt hopeless.

isagi was mostly selfless, putting others needs over his. but this one time he felt like this is what he needed the most, what his heart yearns for and you were taken away from him in a brief second.

maybe if he wasn't so damn busy memorized he would've managed to move his legs instead of rotting in his place while watching you go.

and what the worst of this all was the so little chance of meeting you again was making him go insane! and above all you were gifted and so, so dazzling and isagi was just.. him. a guy that was way beyond where you stood, just watching you should be a blessing itself.

but that wasn't it, this feeling of deep despair all he wanted was to run back to the stage and look for you. this weirdly strange passionate about someone he just saw was foreign.

all this thinking was making him a madman, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"need a company? looking a bit lonely."

a bit taken aback, isagi's shifted towards the voice. oh, oh. oh fuck, it was you.

he could faint right here and now.

#1

you could faint right here and now.

shit- you couldn't get a grip on approaching the guy, the same guy that you kept thinking about all day living in your head rent free. you were real smooth with your words, weren't?

to be surprise, the man was quite popular. being one of the famous men in his squad, and basically a man of a noble while you were just you, a dancer who travels around the world to achieve your dream.

you figured his name was isagi, isagi yoichi. you burned that name over your head. trying not to call him by his name, to try it out sliding down your mouth. but he would definitely see you as a creep, especially for looking around asking about him.

meeting him again had to be a miracle itself, at first you didn't even want to take a step towards his path. but seeing his drink his sadness away, and deep down you felt if you don't take a step he'll float away forever.

and now he was was sitting there while staring at you aimlessly, did you say something? a bit seconds before he finally spoke. "oh- yeah, i mean sure if y'know, you wanted to. no pressure." isagi stuttered.

you sent him a pleasant smile before taking a seat beside him, as you asked for a cocktail. the heavy feelings of the isagi's eyes pouring on you like he could believe you were actually there. you were glad that the man wasn't drunk yet.

"drinking a lot tonight, huh?" you said, dragging him back out of whatever dreamy place he was in. just then he quickly fixed his posture, it was cute, you thought. he looked like a dork as he cleared his throat.

"i think this is my last one." isagi says, pushing away the glass to get potty over you instead. "um, your performance. it was.. amazing."

"glad you like it, you also did a good job in guarding me." you laughed a bit, it a nervous one since this man words held so much more of a meaning in them you just couldn't handle such words as a little of red creeped into your cheeks.

"psh, it was nothing worth mentioning. i was just standing there while you were, just so breathtaking."

"really?"

"really, really. I couldn't stop staring." isagi cooed, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. his eyes remained away from you as he said these words, he really hoped they sounded genuine as he felt and not come out as a creep. to his surprise he heard you chuckling, and if it wasn't the loveliest thing his ears are hearing.

"you're just so charming aren't you, isagi?" you didn't even realise the name slipping out, it felt so natural like you were the innate one to chime it.

isagi eyes widen, your rhythmical voice flow which captivate his emphasis of a soul over you. this spark swirling around his entrails making his breaths at halt. when did he become such a nervous wreck? yesterday it was isagi history of spurning the slightest hints of getting in a relationship, due for him finding it difficult to let his feelings flow freely. and the missing flicker was now found by someone who spoke his name once, and he couldn't find his heart to stop pounding so rapidly.

"you know my name?" he somehow managed to let out despite the regarding fact the air ran out from his lungs, yet it came out breathlessly.

you rolled your eyes playfully, "you're kind of popular around here so it wasn't so difficult to find out." said you, twirling the straw of your decayed cocktail, you glance back to see the man huffing a small laugh. he utterly and completely handsome with that carefree smile that you felt like a teenager girl with her silly crush.

"and it's, yn. if you were interested." you added.

if he was interested? like hell he is, the man was down on his knees if that meant getting to know you. fuck, he was so interested that he could drain his soul for you to tell him everything you please. but truthfully, putting a name to such a pretty face felt like a piece of puzzle was getting connected to it perfect place.

"interested? i am honoured i must say, miss yn." isagi had no idea he had this kind of sappy side within him, especially when he made you giggle coyly, and all he can feel is his heart racing. what was he? a teenage boy going all giddy with his crush? he blamed you for making him feel this young again, and damn if it didn't feel good to feel this bloom once again.

and before you even realise it, it was time to end this bright moment. peeking at the clock, you had another show tomorrow and it hits you like a rock. isagi had his own magic to make time go by the blue. standing up slowly you faced the face of a confused man, "i must take my leave. i have a show tomorrow night, and it was lovely talking to you isagi yoichi."

part of you felt dumb, the man was probably just lonely and he'll soon forget about by the day. as much as loving you felt next to him, you were no mind reader to see how he truly felt. you wished you weren't so bad with these things, especially when the wave was telling you that the man ahead of you was a man of a name. how could all your confidence wash away with a small tear of thought.

you could feel the disappointment taking over the soldier's face, as if his face was begging you to stay longer even for a brief second. you were gonna give in, but honestly, would he have approached you if the roles were reversed?

you didn't even let the man finish his sentence before walking fast out of the bar, suddenly the air was suffocating and you took a deep breath. and here it was again, the black void sky hinted by the stars with the moon outshining it. a wave of air hits you making you shrivel, perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was the shallow you felt.

you wished would turn around and see him, running after you. but what did you expect from this, were your standards truly that high? you were a traveler, you shouldn't connect your heart with anyone's. soon you'll be leaving and be left heartbroken just like every other person did.

what now? you were just standing in the middle of a bar, cold and shivering. that was stupid, you should just go home and get drunk to sleep.

"wait! lady yn!"

you falter at the voice of isagi, did he actually came? were you imagining this? turning around, and in fact you weren't imagining a thing. it was actually isagi huffing and puffing for air, he actually ran all the way here, he ran after you. with his hands on his knees. a last breath before he met your eyes, and all you could think was how his eyes could take over the sky itself.

for a while he just stood there awkwardly, like he doesn't even know why he ran here. before he took off his black coat, taking a hesitation steps towards you. gently warping it around your body, the man handled you so steadily like a you were made of glass he could break by any wrong move.

you grip on the warm fabric, it was slightly bigger than you and so, so balmy. it felt like a hug. you glance back at the man who was staring instantly at you, you felt hot under his strange gaze, like he was eating you whole. you couldn't help but shrinking yourself. quickly he jolted back to his usual self, coughing there and there trying to hide his embarrassment.

"it's cold outside, take this to keep you warm." said isagi, avoiding your face with all costs. you nodded your head. trying to calm your raging heart.

you watch as isagi take a final breath, like he finally decided to what to say next. "um, if you like. i could be your guardian at your next show. whatever it is, I'll be there by your side." he spoke firmly, this time he stood bravely. like a boy confessing his feelings.

you don't know why but you found yourself laughing, laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth. this is what you wished for, the one you waited to follow you whatever you go is standing right in there. a one that'll held on to you for the everlasting. your wish to perform with your most loved one by your side was no longer a beyond reach dream but a meant destiny.

"you have to take me out to dinner first, mister isagi yoichi."

you see as a beam draw it way to isagi's face, you spoke the words he couldn't. he took your hand in his gloved once, it was a perception fit, the missing piece of puzzle, pressing his lips lovingly against your cold knuckles, "only if you wouldn't run away this time, miss yn ln." he chuckled.

and here where your life was completed

have a nice day everyone! wish me luck for my exam ;)

[whumpacabra]

How would someone start posting their writings and things on tumblr...? Im new to actually posting and lost!

Hi! My advice is largely writing based; I’ll put a more detailed explanation under the cut, but basically:

1. Change your default blog icon/bio/etc. if you haven’t already (people may mistake you for a bot and block you if you’re using the default avatar!)

2. Keep your posts organized, especially writing. Make it easy for a reader to find a list of chapters, the previous, and the next piece in a series by linking them on a post.

3. Initiate interaction and maintain connections. Reblog other writer’s work with comments in the tags or notes; play ‘ask games’ off anon or DM blogs you want to be friends with. It’s awkward and intimidating but honestly consistent interaction is what will bring people to your blog regardless of its content, just to check out what your blog is like.

Customizing your blog

This is a big one - regardless of your blog content or interactions, no one trusts a default icon in their notes. Make it a stock image watermarked photo, make it a solid color, but do not leave it as the default geometric shape. Bots and spam accounts rarely customize their icons, so you’ll be lumped in with them and summarily blocked.

Blog titles aren’t super important, but it can be nice to customize it to your blog content or just a silly phrase to indicate “hello I am a real human do not block me please.” Blog descriptions are pretty straightforward. I advise going light on personal details (especially if you’re a minor) but generally a name people can refer to you as and your pronouns is all people are looking for in a description. You can also customize your blog colors, but it’s a good idea to be mindful of readability (eg. avoiding eye strain, colorblind unfriendly combinations, etc.).

I would also recommend turning on your blog’s custom theme (see guide linked here). This can only be done on desktop, but it makes my second point about organization easier. A standard blog will link as tumblr.url.com, but a custom domain will like as url.tumblr.com. A custom theme changes your blog’s links to ‘permalinks.’ This means that if you change your blog name (its url), permalinks will not break, so you don’t have to go through every link on every post to change your url in the link. You can also edit the html custom theme of your blog it this is enabled, as well as access your blog archive.

Organization and links

Obviously tagging your work appropriately helps it reach people - tag browsing is generally how people find blogs to follow outside of their dashboard. But that means you might tag chapter 26 of a work that shows up, in isolation, for a reader. If they think it’s interesting and want to go to the very beginning, how many clicks does it take? It shouldn’t take too many - people get bored or frustrated very quickly when investigating something new and might decide it isn’t worth their time.

Appropriately linking up your story and making it easily accessible to readers isn’t a hard and fast ‘you must do it this way or no one will ever read anything’ kind of rule. But, I think, making your posts as easy and simple as possible for a new reader to approach is good. A reader might scroll through your blog post by post to find what they want, but if you make it easy for them, it decreases their frustration or boredom by minimizing search time.

The easiest and first step would be to make a masterpost. This can be a Blog Masterpost (usually pinned, containing multiple links to multiple different story masterposts- not just chapters) or a Story Masterpost (tagged with the story name, one story’s chapters all consolidated in one place). You can see an example of a pinned blog masterpost and it’s linked story masterposts at the top of my blog.

If you’re writing a sequential story (or intend to have the story readable in a sequential chapter by chapter order), it helps the reader to link a) the story masterpost, b) the previous chapter, and c) the next chapter, somewhere on the post itself. You can see a few different examples of that in my writing posts, as my style and UI philosophy has evolved over time.

Organizing your writing by tag isn’t as ‘important’ as tagging your story appropriately for new readers to find. If you haven’t been here long, you should know that tumblr’s search function can be truly terrible and fail to find something you know to exist. This is why activating your blog’s custom theme (and therefore it’s archive and the ability to access a post’s permalink) is so important. You can manually force a search of a specific tag if you’re at a url.tumblr.com blog, but you are at the whims of tumblr’s noodle code trying to search a tumblr.url.com blog.

I tag my writing (and reblogs of other people’s writing) with specific unique tags so that I personally can have an easier time searching for them, but not everyone will notice, use, or care for unique tag searching given tumblr’s unpredictability.

Interact

So, your blog looks like it was made by a human being, your posts are meticulously organized and easily accessible, now what? Do you just wait for someone browsing the #enemies to lovers tag to find your story? No!

Tumblr is a microblogging platform with social media elements. There is no traditional algorithm that will magically bring your target audience to your blog. If you want to be social, you need to initiate social interactions. That means reblogging posts as a bare minimum.

Liking posts can garner some interaction - someone might see your icon in their notes and think oh a person let me check out their blog - but it doesn’t…say anything. Reblogging a post says very clearly ‘i want to share this with people’ regardless of your actual follower count (‘cause this is tumblr and no one but you can see your follower count, as it should be).

If you’re reblogging someone else’s work, you probably liked it, and might have some compliment or comment regarding it - share it! You can ramble in the tags, write in the notes, or write it directly in your reblog. This a) is a really nice thing to do; writers love and remember people who have comments on their writing and b) reinforces that you’re a human being (that a writer could personally thank, start a conversation with, share ideas, etc.). Having something to say makes you stand out in someone’s activity, and in the notes of a post. Both the OP and anyone else looking at that post will see your comment or tags, and that can incentivize them to check out your blog and your writing.

Obviously you want to approach this as a community building exercise, not min-maxing your interaction to get the most attention, but you shouldn’t be super friendly or overly involved if you don’t want to - it will show and come off as insincere. This is where the whole ‘be yourself’ thing comes in where it’s trite and sucks but it’s true. There are people who will vibe with you somewhere on this hellsite, you just gotta find them. Step out of your comfort zone but don’t force yourself to be something you’re not.

[thebottomfromhell]

Headcanons

Uppermoons defending GN reader from shitty starlker ex

Warnings: Slight manga spoilers (Douma's only), Cannibalism, Excesive use of violence, Yandere behaviour, Toxic relationships, And Non-Character human death.

Request by @lovely-star in her previous account, and this is probably the last requests I will make from said account since she erased it and so everything of that account in my inbox got deleited too. This is the one I remember she wanted. Ex refered as "they/them" for better understanding.

Gyutaro:

Gyutaro is jealous and envious by nature, he is also protective by nature. Still, unlike with his sister, you don't wake up those urges in a way he can't control, so at first he doesn't act on it. He just see someone that is more attractive than him getting close to you and his first instict is to draw back and isolate himself into a state of self-loathing. This time is no different. He draws back in his insecurities, hiding, still believing you are leaving for someone who isn't an "ugly freak".

The your ex, the one that came closer, grabs your arm as you were trying to get away. "Let me go! I told you, we are done! I don't want anything to do with you anymore!" You look distressed as you pull your arm back, struggling against the grip, trying to take some steps back. Just then Gyutaro realizes how upset you are, so he appears from thin air the same way he faded away just before. "Oi..." He says, and both you and your ex turn to see him.

As you sigh with relief the second the let go of your arm, the same time the approach Gyutaro, getting in between him and you, telling the demon to get lost, that it has nothing to do with him, and not sharing expenses at throwing insukts to the insecure creature. Gyutaro, who was looking down, raises his head to face this person, clearly irritated as he begins to scratch his neck. "Oi, oi, you are talking way too much, ne. I'm getting angry. Ne." Eyes glow, and just then you ex takes the time to look him up and down with the red light.

First comes disbelief, then fear, and lastly, before they could scream, a flesh-looking kanna stabs through the open mouth, the angle going directly to the brain, blade coming out from the skull. The body becomes limb as Gyutaro release it, letting it fall. "I'm not feeling hubgry, but it would be a waste, ne. Go home for now, Y/N. Ne?" You only stay as he gives you his back, eating the corpse, using his hands and teeth to rip off pieces of flesh... you feel relief. Still, you don't say anything... for a while.

Gyokko:

Gyokko hates being ignored, if paople pay more mind to you than him, is no exception. He doesn't like to share the spotlight, and he doesn't like to share you neither. He also dislikes when others distract him, so, when you both are home, curtains blocking the sun, and suddenly there is a lound banging on the door at the front, he is not happy. "Urgh! What now? Y/N, make yourself useful and go to deal with that waste at the door." You were about to open, but the you hear your ex's voice, so instead you keep the door shut.

You both start to argue through it, becoming every time louder. "Go away! I won't open this door!" And louder. "I can and I did!! I don't want you anymore!!" And louder... "I SAID-" "WOULD YOU TWO UNCULTURED WRENCHES SHUT UP?! I'M TRYING TO WORK HERE!! Y/N, WHY IS THIS TAKING YOU SO LONG?!" And of course your the next thing your ex does is ask who is there with you... you knew better than to keep shouting, they didn't. It didn't take much for Gyokko to get tired of the shouts, sone threats were even send to him so ot's no surprise he got offended.

Except, Gyokko likes the spotlight... so he put a base on the door before opening it as he hid in a shadow. Then the ceramics sucked your ex, mending and breaking blood, flesh and nerves. You only look at it. "Your welcome." He says before setting that same vase as an inner decoration in the hallway before retreating. Well... that went as to be expected.

Hantengu:

Hantengu never acts up on jealosy, he doesn't dare to. He fears you will leave, that you will hurt him, that people will accuse him of crimes he swears he didn't do. It doesn't make sense, but there is nothing one can do on that coward. Your ex is no exception, since the second he heard banging on the door he went to hide in the wardrobe, crying, holding his head and keeping his knees close to his chest. "They are coming for me! Those villains want to hurt me!" You were just about to calm him down when you hear your ex's voice.

You wonder if you should just hide too, squeeze in besides him, pretend there is nobody at home. You hear the door being shut open, and you stop thinking, just doing. "Eeeeeeeeck!" You try to shudh him with no avail as you hear your ex step into the house, and you curse leaving it unlocked for the clones who are not here. "It wasn't me! I am not a liar! These hands are at fault!" And you curse even more knowing they will hear Hantengu's whimpers and sobs. For some seconds you panic, not knowing what to do. Should you get out? Stay put? Look for another play to hide? Run away? Face them? Threat-

The door of the wardrobe open, and the second your eyes where getting used to the light difference... you see Hantengu lunge into your ex. Both the demon and other scream of fear as the oldest grabs your ex's shoulders, squeezing pulling, you can hear bones cracking as the surprise in the fearful human screams turn int agony. They don't seem to notice you as Hantengu destroy their shoulders in desesperation, running away from the with limp arms and blooded shoulders the second the demon let's go.

Now you blink, Hantengu crawling to a corner, still sobbing, as you process what just happened before the rambles and rants continue... you should better comfort your beloved...

Sekido:

Sekido doesn't like people, they make him angry, so you can understand he wasn't happy when your ex got near you two. Specially when you use him to make distance between your ex and you. "HEY! I'm not your meat shield!" He genuinely tries to grab you and toss you in front when your ex's start getting closer... too close. "Get loss, you pathetic scum! You are unwelcome!" He basically growls at your ex, who after getting over their shock seems to rely on their pride to not show fear... bad idea.

There is an argument between your ex and Sekido, you use this chance to take some steps back quietly, as insults are being thrown around with the angry energy, metaphorically, for now. You lost track of who was saying that, but then they both realize you moved, as you step in some leaves, making noise. Both Sekido and your ex turn towards you, and that seemed to be your beloved's limit, "How DARE you leaving your problems to me?!" because he slams the ground with his staff, letting the thunders take over the area.

The second your ex was about to scream as the thunders slowly become less intense, Sekido hits his head, basically blowing the brain up as it's tissues spread around. "THERE! Are you happy now, you little shit?!" You... weirdly enough are not. This is a lot to take in. The second you don't asnwer Sekido gets even more irritated and basically storms off "Fuck you!"

Karaku:

Karaku notices something is off the second you tense, but honestly pays it no mind. He is part of Upper 4, what could honestly happen to you with him around? Tha answer: them. You are having a dinner date with Karaku pretending to be human, and having money stolen to invite (which means a lot considering he is just watching you eat while flirting with you). You don't let that bother you, unlike your ex's voice calling your name, making you by instict stand up and look around, clearly upset. Your date only tilts your head in confusion before leaning to see who you are looking.

They get to the table and grab your arm, trusting that you will follow for the sake of not causing an scene in a restaurant, but you stay in place, grabbing yourself by the table for stability. "Go away. I'm busy." You do try to keep your voice low in order of not draw too much attention to yourself, looking a Karaku for help. Thankfully, he does. "Hey, sweet thing. You are ruining our date." Before you ex could get into an argument with Karaku, he grabs their wrist, harshly. "Listen here, if you want to play like a punk, little mouse, you will have to wait until I'm in the mood." He laughs as you ex release a gasp in pain and disbelief the second Karaku squeezes har enough to fracture the bones.

Of course, once Karaku physically threats to grab something else, your ex leaves running away. Everyone is looking at your beloved, who just shrugs and orders dessert for you. "Now, back to what we were doing." You only look at him and smile, knowing you can trust him with that problem. "Of course."

Urogi:

Jealous and clingy, Urogi doesn't like strangers near you, and strangers in this context are anyone but the other clones and Hantengu. Besides that, he hates having to share you, even doing tantrums everytime you have to be out of his sight, that can be anything from pouting and whining to actually trash on the ground. You are aware he can also hurt your loved ones, so you make sure to never let them get close and avoid having Urogi meeting them. Of course, you were not counting that in a walk with Urogi (he was flying, and it was dark, so it wasn't easy to see him) during night time you ex would appear.

You have told Urogi to not attack people when getting close to you, to stay hidden, so he did. "What do you want?!" You scream back to them as they get close, you take steps back and shield yourself so they can't grab you. "Leave me alone!" And the next thing you see is Urogi landing on your ex, using the talons in his feet to pin him on the ground and the rip the flesh out with his hands, starting to eat the person alive.

It takes you a few secons to get over that, to focus less on the fact you knew this person and more in the fact that Urogi is eating a corpse, he has done that before. "Tsht nishe! Wont shom?" He speaks with his mouth full... you need to sit for a moment. "No thanks." And... he just keeps eating.

Aizetsu:

Aizetsu is pretty laid back, so he doesn't even react as you use him as a human shield the second you see you ex. He is just wearing a cape with hood and gloves to walk on the sun, as you wanted to go out and he needed some fresh air from the others. He looks tired, but that is all, nobody would think of him of something more than a tired, and maybe a bit sick, young man. Unfortinately, no one seems to have sympathy for that as he is being pushed by your ex for him to move out of the way and pulled by you to keep your shield close.

Not that any one you manage to actually tug him around, staying stable on his feet, mostly havibg to move his feet for space and to balance himself. There is shouting, threats and insults, but everyone around just watches. "Can you both stop? Being tossed around like this is making me sad." Your ex, angry, just takes their anger on your shield, moving the hood. Aizetsu reacts before the horns are exposed, covering the with his wrist as he starts to release smoke, a scream of pure pain comming up his throat. He pulls the hood back again as your ex backs up scared and people start to go see him, worried.

In the end, it's the crowd the one to scare your ex away, thinking they did something to Aizetsu. They recieve threats and insults, besides havibg so many people against them, it's bound to ruin their reputation. You wouldn't be surprised they would leave the town. "I'm sad, I want to go home." You do help him get home through the people, trying to tell everyone off... poor Aizetsu.

Nakime:

You came to her stressed one day, almost crying about your ex, the fact that you met them again, that they haven't changed... you had a rough break up, you relationship with them became toxic and it was already so hard to pull out of in and they are trying to get you back in. Guilt-tripping, gaslighting, threats, the physical manipulation... the worst thing is that you only notice every detail of what they did once the encounter is over, not before.

You probably would have already being bullied back into the relationship if it wasn't for the distress their presence causes you and the fact you sre already in a relationship with Nakime, who listens about the issue without saying anything. "It seems very bad, but don't worry. You are safe here, specially with me around." She speaks and smiles softly before sending you to rest...

The next day you see your ex's corpses on the ceiling (another floor upside down). None of you talk about it, and after Nakime made sure you saw it, she made it go away. It all... just went away with the cord... you need time to think about that. "Did you have a good rest?" You nod and rest some more.

Akaza:

"What's wrong?" He asks the second you tense up, Akaza is very protective, he would rather die than let anything happen to you. Anyway, his question is answered when you ex screams your name as he storms into your direction, as you use the demon as a shield. You were both put for a festival, and it seems the word that you are back in town spread around, to the point you were easily found. The crowd is loud, and it takes a lot of spaces, so people barely spare a second glance to the scene, even as Akaza, in human disguise, also tenses up, ready to fight this person off.

"You are looking for trouble here. Go away and you won't have to eat your own teeth and walk by your own." The tone of voice is calm, but he is clearly not, more like a dog growling, getting ready to jump towards the threat the second it's owner release the leash. "Say one more word and you are done, you pathetic weak." Your ex didn't know when to shut up. Thankfully, with the crowds and your begging, Akaza was actually too smart to kill that person, from your point of view that was the reason at least, and just made a harsh step in the ground, crumbling it.

That already made your ex take a few steps back, but the Akaza threw a hit to the side of the face of your ex, letting the friction with the air and speed make a cut in their chin. There is a thunder-like sound a few second after it, making some people react as your ex's falls into the ground due the shock. "Last warning. Get lost." They do. "Sorry about that, Y/N." You shake your head. "No, it's fine. Thank you for that. Maybe we should look for a quiet place to see the fireworks." You won't let this ruin your night, Akaza smiles at the idea. "Yeah... that would be nice."

Douma:

This is not the first time someone comes to Douma's cult demanding for someone to go with them, honestly. Sometime youngsters run towards his cult to scape the responsibilities set by their parents, so when that happens it's not weird to have an angry husband or father, usually followed by a mother or mother-in-law, storming in, looking for the young one. He usually doesn't get in between family matters, prefering to play dumb than taking sides. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are talking about", "I can't say for certain they are here", "It's not proper for me to get in between family business, I'll let you solve your squarrels", or whatever excuse he has, not that he has ever lied. There are so many humans in his cult, how should he be able to remember the story of every follower he ever had and recognize them by face and name?

Kotoha was an special case, and so seems you are, since you both are the only times he recognized who this person, your partner, was talking about from name alone and slight description. Like her, is a partner, and brings the same arguments. "Scaping responsibilities" this, "gone out of their mind" that, "ruining image" here and a "have to go back" there. Really, nothing new, you just had the bad luck of going to see Douma on the worst time. He can see this person march towards you as you cower away and both begin to push and pull. "Excuse me, can you leave us be? I will be solving this matter in private, thank you." So he does the same thing he did when Kotoha's husband and mother-in-law came. The difference is that you will get to see it.

One movement, fast and smooth, moving his hand, armed with one of his fans, directly to you ex's neck, and he is decapitated faster than slayers do to demon, with only some drops of blood spilled on your face as the body falls limp and start to bleed out, head nowhere to be seen. "My, my! It seems I did a bit of a mess. Here, let me clean your face, dear!" He licks his thumb to wipe the blood off softly.

You just let him do whatever he wants, there isn't much to do about it anyway, and at least he is nice. He protected you, after all...

Kokushibou:

Kokushibou doesn't care about other relationships you have or had, from co-workers to family, he is simply not invested on knowing anything about them. More often than not he spaces out everytime you begin to talk about others, specially family bonds... he is not going to change in thas aspect. So when you are walking out one night and suddenly you shift to hide behind him, the only thing he wants to do is move out of the way. He is very petty, so he tries, but you don't let him as your ex walks into you both.

They trie to surround Kokushibou, as you manages to convince him to disguise himself as human to go out. He is not a human shield! Let. Him. Go. Now.... please? Your ex keeps talking, telling you that they wants you back, that they need you, that you had no right to leave them, you just try to keep your distance and avoid eye contact while Kokushibou would rather be anywhere else. In a desperate move.... you tell them to deal with Kokushibou.... he looks as his mind just emptied. Typical phrases: "What are you? Y/N's new boyfriend", "Y/N is mine", "Y/N is just with you to make me feel jealous" and "Whatever."

"I really don't care. I don't have any bussiness with you, so leave." He commands with authority. Your ex takes a step back, but doesn't want to appear intimidated. He charges into Kokushibou, charging to him him while screaming. The demons dodges and by instinct brushes off the human, making them impact against a wall, falling unconcious. You have the feeling they won't be bothering you anymore. "Thank-" and Kokushibou doesn't want to be bothered anymore too. So he leaves without you. "Kokushibou!"

[moochii-daisies]

- 18+, Minors DNI

- summary: you remember being at the cafe...and now you're in a strange room. turns out tae has changed.

- series summary: tae is a super powerful, morally grey and magical robin hood and BTS are his magical merry men and you get dragged along (+ so much more)

- genre: magic / mafia au, + angst + eventual romance + slowburn

- length: 4.9k words

- warning - content contains: dead dove territory possibly starts here, swearing, violence (...it's a mafia au), power dynamics, brief mention of branding, namjoon came out way hotter than i intended oops, reader is v naive but has been isolated for 20 yrs so

- sidenotes: this is a learning curve story, pls bear w me as i figure it out haha pacing is my nemesis i'm so sorry but i'm rlly excited for where this is heading, i hope you enjoy if you read it and thank you so much if you do <3 happy new years 💖🎉

1.1: reunion // 1.2: baby steps // 1.3: havin' a ball // 1.4: bullet bobbing

"fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck -"

"292." a slow and mellow voice interrupts your repeated obscenity and makes you realize that you're saying it out loud.

it takes three blinks for you to see the room around you.

and the color of the sky outside the lone window.

it's pitch black.

with a jolt you shoot up to stand from the couch you've, apparently, been sitting on. your chest constricts and every layer of clothing you have on is suddenly 3 sizes too small. a gasping breath brings your attention to your neck - which is unusually cold - and both hands fly to the base of your throat, covering the branded mark that lives there.

the mellow voice speaks up again, "damn, you really can't see huh?" and your head turns so fast it almost makes you dizzy. there's a man leaning against the wall by the door, and he's blocking the only way out. you're hit with the scent of woody clean laundry as you collapse back onto the couch.

with a choked voice you spit out, "i can see just fine. i just can't - you know, See see. what time is it?" you can't figure out why it's so hard to breathe until something leathery tugs at the grip still clasped around your throat. the unknown sensation makes your skin crawl, but then you see the leafy vine responsible, and follow it's trail back to the strange man's hand.

ok, so he's a Creator.

there are four main types of magic and the elite families are the longest running lines of them (aka the most powerful). Creators are especially attuned to the color magic of different elements - the protein bonds that develop in full spectrum cones form a magnetic link with the magic color's wavelengths - and they're able to recreate them. some Creators, like the Jung family, are linked to fire. their rise to fame was about 10 generations back, during the osgood bombings. a group of people who weren't able to afford the injections and who were resistant to the development of magic, started a global string of bomb missions that targeted osgood school's. the Jung family was able to capture all responsible alive with their rings of fire (traps that imprisoned people) although, some did choose to burn there rather than be brought in. point being - the head of the Jung family has maintained their seat on the global public safety board ever since.

Creator types are all closely connected to the natural magic of the world. aside from the Jung's, one of the other elite Kim families are Creators acutely attuned to plant life - which the man here with you also appears to be.

one lamp with a tattered cloth cover is clicked on, perched on the side table next to the couch. you squint your eyes at the dark haired figure across the room. your mind is equally torn between searching for a crest and figuring out the time.

"time crest." falls out of your mouth without much thought and the man smirks before knocking his knuckles against the wooden door, 1-2-pause-1-2.

"10:30, Kim namjoon. call me arem." it only takes three strides for him to tower over you and a large hand stretches out in front of your face. you go cross-eyed following the movement of it before lifting your own to grasp his. "you said fuck, 292 times. we almost thought you were broken." arem's laugh is like a warm cup of coffee. it takes four shakes for you to process all that he'd said - especially the part where he mentioned that it's after 9pm. because you're definitely not where you're supposed to be. the cold wash of panic that rinses through your body turns to ice as the door behind arem opens.

your brother, "the Prince of Kim's", stiffly enters the room with crossed arms. he looks bored, almost disgusted, with what he see's in front of him.

despite only being one year apart, the two of you could not be more different. granted, he's next in line as the head of the family whereas you've been allowed in exactly one room for the last 22 years - it's not like you've really had the chance to get to know each other. however, during the first five years of life, he was a really good big brother. and that's how you mostly remember him. there isn't a picture of you two together where he isn't holding your hand or glowering at any adult too close to you.

aside from the forced distance though, the training he's done to be head Seer has also changed him. to be fair to him, the training is beyond intense. of course, "the Prince of Kim's" isn't just any Seer.

he's Kim seokjin - the future lead Seer of global surveillance.

while Creators link with color magic in order to create the elements, Seers links enable them to extend or enhance their vision. wherever there's a magic color, Seers are able to look - the skill level lies in the amount of colors one is able to See. osgood's tracking dogs essentially. with over 80 billion types of color magic out there, almost nobody can hide from Seers. those who are more advanced are even able to create visions, to make others see things.

your brother is one of them.

it takes a few moments of silence for either of you to speak up. jin beats you to it.

"arem step away. won't your parents be able to sense what your magic touches? family links and all that? we don't need the future governor in a scandal." jin speaks dryly and without looking at you.

arem chuckles but stops abruptly at the sight of your fearful expression.

ok so he's namjoon. like, The namjoon. you'd considered the possibility but the confirmation still hits you like a train. his family's held the most political power for the last seven generations, ever since their Creator magic helped combat global warming and rebalanced the planet's ecological systems. all of those living in osgood's world are able to breathe clean air thanks to his family. "a world where we all breathe, drink, eat and grow safely." is the quote his family made famous, you can find it on a plaque in every government building across the globe.

each city has its own governor, after serving for 25 years - those who are able to maintain the popular vote and support from the masses are promoted to global politics, which namjoon's family founded. just like the Jung family, the Kim's have maintained their head position of the global politics council and the next one in line is now blinking down at you. with pursed full lips and heavy pensive emotions that you can feel weighing on him.

without a word, he unfastens the first few buttons of his silky black button down and turns his back towards you - then, he shrugs the sleeves off both shoulders to expose his family crest. it's size is the first thing you notice. how the muscles ripple across his tan skin is the next. arem doesn't move and patiently waits while you take it all in.

it spans all the way across both shoulder blades and looks more like a gang tattoo than a symbol of excessive social status. you remember the way yours burned when it was branded, how the smell of seared skin made you nauseous for days afterwards. it takes about three months to speak again after your families branding ceremony.

as you recall what happened, your magic senses trigger his memory into reliving his own branding ceremony. you wince as the pain of it comes back to life through you.

at the sound of your inhaled hiss, arem turns with a glance over one broad shoulder, "wanna know why it's a frog?" - he offers the words kindly. your eyes flit to jin but he isn't budging. he dead-eye stares at the floor with one foot crossed over the other- if you were in trouble for not being home yet, he wouldn't be letting this exchange happen. you try to convince yourself that's true while nodding at arem.

with a shake of his shoulders, the family crest is covered by black silk and arem turns to face you, fixing up his buttons.

"a tree frog," he says with knitted eyebrows, "well - frogs in general, can see colors, even in the dark. apparently...before magic, this planet was going dark. somethin' about gas and the way they made stuff and uh, despicable levels of extortion basically. it was dying is what i'm tryna say - fuck these are so small." arem pauses to eye you for help.

after you dip your chin into a small nod, arem kneels down in front of you and places his hands on the couch cushions for balance - right by the sides of your thighs. squeezing your knees together to avoid touching him anywhere else, arem watches you silently until your fingers start working at the buttons.

"jin was talkin' shit," he murmurs and you feel the tips of your ears flush uncomfortably hot at the timber of his voice, "they can't sense what my magic touches. but anyways, some magic colors were dying because of the state of it. turnin' black, goin' dark. my family can see those uh, sick colors and bring them back."

you slip the last button through and pause before speaking, hoping for some space between your faces. but he doesn't move, and you can feel a small smile tugging across his instead.

with rapid eye movements you meet his own, go back to his shirt, look behind him at jin and then down at your lap. "a tree frog because um, the plant part?" the words feel clunky on your tongue as you hold back the 75 other questions screaming inside your head.

questions like: where the hell are we? why is my brother here? where are tae and yoongi? what the hell happened? why are you telling me all of this? are we still in the red marker? did tae actually kidnap me? how did i get to this room? what happens outside after 9pm?

and maybe arem senses this, but his magic feels like an endless garden that you keep getting lost in so, its hard to tell. your eyes rest after speaking - cast down at your lap and he lowers one palm. you watch with wide eyes as a small sunflower pushes into view through the center of it.

arem picks up one of your arms by the wrist, guiding you to pluck it from him. with a dimpled smile, the root of it dissolves and he pushes himself up to stand.

"i like you sunflower. but nah, tree frogs are just cute." both him and his steady power are so warm and inviting. you feel the corners of your mouth pull upwards. lost in the peaceful garden of his magic while you twirl the stem of the sunflower around in your hands.

jin's voice slices through the serenity, "they will see you in your room like usual for the next week. i am Only allowing this to honor an old alliance but don't be fucking stupid. if you decide to go with them i will not waste time protecting you." he knows you well enough to speak without emotion but- he can't stop himself from feeling completely. jin won't let you die, he's asking you not to get hurt.

liar, is what you want to say. but you can't even remember the last time he's talked to you, so you nod just as blankly as he spoke.

"where - why are you here?" you clip your words short and roll your shoulders back, trying to mimic his elite demeanor. trying to communicate some sense of family to him.

pink puffy lips twist into a grimace before jin looks to arem and jerks his head towards the open door. whatever the signal means, arem understands immediately and slips into the shadowy hallway without another word.

the absence of earthy magic makes the small room drop 20 degrees. jin remains at his spot by the door and huffs out air with a tired sigh. he makes no attempt to answer your question.

you swallow dryly and feel your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. jin's magic pushes towards you in waves, lapping at your feet before it retreats - back to the protective bubble that lives around him. nobody fears being seen like a Seer.

in a voice you recognize - as the brother you once knew - jin mutters, "why do you fuckin' accept shit like this? why don't you just - you haven't even tried to escape. not once." and you're not sure why but the sadness you feel from him turns your chest into steel.

"oh i'm sorry bro, when you're held captive for being abnormal please, do tell me how i should've tried to escape." you seethe and jin's eyebrows lift in surprise at the anger that seeps out of you.

"no i - i meant tonight..." his near whisper is feeble and trails off as jumbling footsteps echo out from down the hall. the bundle of power you felt outside the cafe accompanies the sound and you brace yourself for whoever the hell is about to walk through the door.

a mixture of relief and anxiety blossoms in your lungs at the sight of tae and yoongi. jin on the other hand, folds into himself. with a quiet resignation that only you seem to notice.

"my Merry!" tae cheers with a dashing grin. even as he bellows, the words that come out feel like melting dark chocolate. the pointed boots he's wearing clack as he walks, while yoongi trails like a silent shadow behind him. tae snaps his fingers and a chair of vines blooms out of the floorboards. he plops into the seat of it relaxed, both legs are spread wide and he rubs at his chin with twinkling eyes - fixated on you.

yoongi stands back by tae's left shoulder and with a shy smile says, "hey miss Merry." his voice trickles down both ears like a waterfall before it splashes into your stomach. it makes it hard to feel his magic, but that may also be due to the three unknown men filing around tae. the power surges from all of them together feel like you're being shocked on a loop.

your left eye begins to twitch and tae swivels a wrist, index finger pointing up. their magic retreats simultaneously, which leaves you feeling - quite suddenly - very much alone.

the whole thing feels like a performance, your brother's presence brings a smidge of comfort but, the only way out is now blocked by seven men instead of just one. and jin's words keep ringing in your head.

you haven't even tried to escape.

tae doesn't seem to care about introducing the others and instead, leans forward to rest both elbows on his knees. long fingers studded with gold thread together and one stupidly charming curl falls over his forehead.

"could you feel all of us Merry?" he asks you softly.

the "YES" you blurt out in response isn't from tae's magic raising your voice. it's because the last time you nodded your head 'yes' to him, you wound up in this fuckin' room.

"good girl! you went catatonic on us last time. i much prefer this over the timid act." tae leans back to throw one leg over the other. his arms cross with one hand raised, tracing a finger over his bottom lip. "but hold on dear, you could feel All of us?" he quips with an amused expression.

fuck.

"no, not him. not um, not yoongi." you wish you could blame this truth serum feeling on tae's Influence, but you're just fuckin' scared. you're absolutely terrified. you've never once been outside of your room past nine p.m., you haven't seen tae in at least ten years and now you are Trapped inside of this room with six strangers.

jin inspects his nails and leans his head against the doorway with a yawn. this is all so unbelievable you almost wonder if he's making you see it just to mess with you.

no, he isn't cruel like that.

tae's magic feels like honey as it nudges at your shoulder and you brush it away out of habit. he lights up at this and nods his head, "ok good Merry, so you can actually Feel it! i'm sorry." and your heart beats double-time at the preemptive apology. tae raises three fingers and you notice the vine from arem flying at you just in time to put up (what you've named) sensor shields. even with that defense, the vine is thick and heavy - the impact of it hitting you bounces your body like a ragdoll, tossing you over the arm of the couch.

an "oof" wheezes out from the stretch around your ribs and you know you aren't supposed to but, you crack the knuckle of your middle finger. the sensation triggers an ion reversal throughout your magic, it gives you the ability to release a quick (but big) burst of energy that repels the magic of others. you aren't sure why it happens, even though you call yourself a Sensor - everything you know about your magic is what you've taught yourself.

you use the burst to push arem's vine back over to him but they all stumble a bit as a consequence and tae drops to the floor due to a (now) non-existent chair.

the men all freeze, jin stands up a bit straighter with his eyes locked on tae.

a deep belly laugh is joined by nervous chuckles, "well now Merry, you never told me about that!" tae wipes tears from his eyes with a wide smile but, his magic is adamant. pushing at you to obey his Influence.

frustration bubbles out instead, "what the fuck T! are you gonna explain why i'm here?" you can feel the reversal burst you released ebbing and tuck another finger under your thumb (in case tae gives a signal again.)

they all laugh at the question, even jin snickers to himself, and the response turns simmering bubbles into boiling ones.

you feel your core sensor shield crack.

as it does - tae leaps up to dance, "your christmas colors Merry! keep doing that!" he starts doing the same choreography from when you both were younger. an emotional ray shoots through the crack and hits yoongi's shoulder. it glows with a soft golden light and you're filled with so much uncontrollable power that another crack allows a ray to spear itself right into the center of tae's chest. he freezes and turns towards you.

it feels like the room collectively holds its breath until jin attempts to rush over to you.

he's cut short by tae's hand curling around his bicep.

"everyone out except Merry, now." there is nothing enhancing his voice but he sounds deadly enough that your rays retract into your center. shields restored. jin flips the hood of his sweatshirt up to hide his face and you feel his magic pat you on the head. he's worn a hoodie under his capes ever since he was a kid, you're happy - at least for a moment - to see that's still the same.

once jin moves towards the door, the others follow suit. tae eyes you in a way that almost looks hungry. you focus on additional sensor shields.

with a lazy twist of one hand the door closes and the click of the lock makes you jump.

maybe jin mentioned escape for a reason, maybe there is another way out somewhere. if it can be found, it's worth a shot.

your mind is a whirlwind, full of anticipation and tae's magic. of all the magic types, Manipulators like tae are the most deadly. they're known for being strong but, you're uncomfortably aware that you've got no idea how strong tae actually is. Manipulators are able to command magic and typically excel in commanding a few different kinds. it's a relatively new type, tae's the fifth generation of the first - but their ability and capacity to control magic guarantees a chance of working with the osgood's. personally.

they're highly coveted, to say the least.

tae circles the couch you're sitting on and his voice drips with something venomous. something disguising itself as sweet.

"did you know, you not only resist my Influence, you help others resist it too?" his fingertips drag along the back of the couch and shivers break out along the base of your skull.

there's no way you can speak. all sense of direction is lost and you press lightly on the finger tucked under your thumb. debating if you should crack it - if taking the chance for escape will get you killed or not.

"speak, Merry." tae's Influence pushes against your cheek and you splutter out hair. it takes force to physically push like that with Manipulator magic, your heart pumps hard and fills your ears with a rushing sound.

"i didn't know." you mumble.

it's silent as tae moves around the couch and flops down right next to you. the cushion dips, and you both let gravity lean your bodies against each other. you're petrified by the proximity, waiting for him to speak again.

     "you helped the lady that runs that cafe resist it. she left when she wanted, not because i wanted her too." he sounds upset.

if you do what he says he won't hurt you. right? he can't hurt you, if you do a good job.

tae carries on a little manically, "more importantly, when that ray thing hit me, all i felt was love. i just - i forgot about my job, i didn't care about any goals. i was so happy Merry. so goddamn happy...and that was hands down the scariest fuckin' thing i've ever experienced." his relaxed laughter is your cue. you press down on your ring finger to crack it and the burst pushes tae over the arm of the couch, like arem's vine did to you - your eyes dart around the room for Any key to escape.

tae's magic envelops you from behind as he growls out "she's a quick learner." and in a snap decision, you bolt for the door. it's just you two now, you can make it there at least. it's right there in front of you.

you know you can do it, that's all you let yourself think but, as soon as your hand wraps around the doorknob - you hear his fingers snap. four iron bars fall from nowhere onto the door. solid. and locking you inside.

jiggling the handle defiantly you refuse to look at the man behind you.

"how susceptible are you to magic?" tae uses his honey voice with so much Influence, that you almost taste it.

"very." you give in quietly.

"so you can Feel it, but that means it can really hurt you. hm. then, are you locked away because you make it, oh-so easy to target your family?" it's sharp this time.

"uh, who told you that?" you try to match his edge but, your body is being tugged back from the door and pulled towards him - against your will.

"jin always said that at school. he never shut up about protecting the baby, i thought you were gonna be such an insufferable -" "do you really not remember my name?" you still have control over your voice, and use it to interrupt as soon as you're in front of him.

tae takes it in stride, "i remember everything about you Merry. like how the sound of your name will alert the very people i'm trying to steal you away from."

he keeps pushing his magic against you, tiring you out. your knees buckle and his canines glint as he smiles.

"it's okay dear, you can kneel." with the crook of his finger you fall to your knees onto soft ground. this isn't the first time you've been made to kneel. hands behind your back, head down, never look up and always show gratitude. once you grit out the words "thank you for the rug." though, tae lets out a guffaw.

"holy shit! you've gone through some hardcore trainin' yourself, haven't ya!"

     this stokes the dim fire inside your belly, you snap your head up to glare at him.

"just like when we first met," tae muses, and a foreign softness clouds his expression before it shifts into something serious.

"you won't be free here. you'd live and work with us - in exchange, we'd protect you. but that means that we Own you. that means you Belong to us." his harsh words and sweet tone confuse you.

"how can i help you work without magic?" you bite your tongue to keep from saying more.

"what did i say earlier dear? we need your magic. again - you won't be free. but we'll teach you how to use it." tae smirks as your eyes light up.

you nibble at your lip, you'd always thought that the chance to be taught by a bunch of elite mages was a dream that died when you were five. tae cocks his head while he pouts down at you, "are you pretendin' to think about it Merry?"

     it wouldn't make sense to refuse him, he knows that you know this.

"jin said he's giving me a week." it takes courage to get the words out but, you manage to tell them to the shaggy red rug beneath you.

tae disregards this, "will you tell me what that ray was now?" his voice lilts, but is genuine.

"if my core sensor shields break down, the rays make people feel like they're in love. i can't control it so, it's on constant lockdown." you speak dully in an effort to cover your thoughts.

at least one week. just try it out for one week. who knows when the opportunity will come again. try this out for one week. do what he says. do whatever he asks of you. whatever the job is - wait, what the hell is his job?

you desperately hide how close you are to breaking but tae notices the internal struggle.

"ask me Merry." he isn't using Influence anymore. the thought of you fighting against it keeps making him grin, one he hides with a hooked index finger.

"what do you do for work T?"

you need to know.

the man above you leans forward to take hold of your chin. he waits for your gaze to reach his deep brown eyes before saying, "i run the Bangtan Mafia dear. and i'm part of osgood's personal security detail, as a day job." - after a moment of silence, he snorts at your confusion.

"i guess that's not so impressive to a shut in." tae mutters then flicks a finger to lift you onto the couch next to him.

an arm wraps around your shoulder and T tilts his head down to breathe against the crook of your neck, "i just wanna see you shine bright Merry."

you try to hide the way your breath catches and grumble out, "don't be mean, it's not like i enjoy being a shut in. i think you're the only person who see's my colors T."

a smile presses against you and hair shifts against your skin as his lips move, "does that mean you're saying yes?" - the excitement in his voice has a bite to it.

"it means, you've got a week to convince me." you feel the words warble in your throat.

tae raises his head so you can watch his eyebrows wiggle. with a mischievous grin he lets out a wolf whistle and the iron bars dissolve from the door before it swings back open with a click. jin pokes his head around the frame immediately and tae keeps his arm locked in place around your shoulders, waving everyone back inside the room with the other.

you tuck both hands between your knees and try to breathe calmly.

"boys, how should we convince sweet Merry here that she should work with us?"

a slender man with a dark brown mullet stretches both arms out and you catch a peek of the black leather harness underneath his coat. a tiny ball of fire rolls across the top of one hand as he speaks, "we could show her what we do with people? the ones that work against us instead?"

yoongi sighs, "arson can't be overdone hoseok." so it's the elite Jung hoseok that's twirling the flame around in front of you, and you can only watch as it dances along his nimble fingers. the leather trench-coat he's wearing is cinched at the waist, it hangs off his frame in a way that accents his angular features - a pair of matching gloves is tucked into the belt. the delicate nature of his features make it hard to imagine him being violent, but there's a razor blade ridge that you feel encasing his magic. a controlling energy within it that matches tae's, albeit, in a much more subtle way.

both lips turn downwards and hoseok shrugs before the fireball disintegrates.

a man with chestnut hair and higher-pitched voice murmurs, "we could take her on a heist?" and the last stranger - the one with big, round eyes - scoffs.

"just fuckin' take her on a job with us." the disdain is so thick in his voice that you wrinkle your nose at him.

"ddaeng, ddaeng, BINGO." tae blares, holding you against him.

"gentlemen, we're taking our Merry to the hit tomorrow."

next! // 1.3: havin' a ball

[angelsworks]

Hi, this is more of a generalised ask but how will you rank how bad Mikaelsons siblings are as Yanderes? (From worst to best) In terms of the likelihood of them breaking their obsession and how bad is their obsession’s life will be with them? Thanks lot.

Yandere! Mikaelson Brothers x reader (separate)

Type: headcannon

Requested: Yes

Summary: What the Mikaelsons are like as yandere and what their worst traits are.

Warnings: yandere themes, dark themes, mentions of kidnap and coercive relationships, nothing healthy

To be honest each Mikaelson brother will be just as dangerous as the next as your yandere.

They each have certain traits that result in vastly different outcomes.

Together they make up one very dysfunctional family. Apart they are no different.

Each brother has had his own share of trauma, which leads to them having different approaches to their darling.

Klaus Mikaelson

Worst Trait: Isolation

With Klaus he makes you completely dependent. Which isn’t uncommon among the brothers.

He takes you away from your friends and family. Whether you want to go or not.

He’ll keep you away from everyone else. Forbidding you from talking to anyone but him.

If he finds out you’ve been talking to someone else, maybe it’s one of his Hyrbids, he won’t be pleased. He’ll make you watch as he rips the persons heart out.

If you’ve been plotting against him with someone else, he’ll let it carry on. Only for a little though. He’ll wait for you to be a step away from escaping before he reveals himself.

He won’t kill the person who helped you. That would be too easy. He’ll keep them chained up somewhere. Taking you to visit them regularly, to remind you what happens when you betray him.

He gives you free roam around where ever he’s staying. But he demands asks that you don’t leave without him.

He expects you to fall into his touches and kisses, not away.

That was quickly stomped out in the beginning of your captivity relationship.

On the bright side, he’s probably the most modern brother. He’s been around for a long time so he’s up to date with technology.

It means he’s able to give you your every want and desire. Whether thats phone, computers, TVs etc.

It also means he knows how to block websites or emergency numbers.

In terms of him getting bored or breaking an obsession - it’s not in this man’s nature.

For a thousand years he waited to break his curse.

He won’t be bored of you anytime soon.

Elijah Mikaelson

Worst trait: dominance/control

Having Elijah as your yandere isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Well it’s not if you don’t value free will, your own autonomy and your privacy.

Elijah doesn’t believe you’re capable of looking after yourself. He finds it a miracle you’ve gotten this far without him.

It’ll start slow. It might start with him holding your hand everywhere you go, always offering to pay for things or making all your meals for you.

You’ll realise it’s a problem when his chain of control is wrapped too tightly for you to escape.

It’s a problem when you can’t bathe yourself, dress yourself or feed yourself without Elijah there or somehow involved.

Your phone is basically his phone now. There’s no password and he chooses when you do and don’t have it.

There’s no way for you to escape or even get him to ease off.

In his very deluded mind he’s doing you a favour. He’s protecting you from the world and from yourself.

He would never bore of you. You’re his obsession forever. You’re his doll and darling, till the end of time.

Kol Mikaelson

Worst trait: Sadism

This is just a very general idea of one case for Kol Mikaelson. If you do want to see specific stuff, please just ask.

The problem with this man is his savageness, his brutality, his complete disregard for you.

He’s happy to keep you. To watch you. To torment you. To see you cry.

Sometimes he’ll even lick your tears off.

He’ll use you for his own needs and give you little in return.

He’ll feed from you, leaving harsh marks and dark bruises. Maybe he leaves them on your skin for a few days until he forcefully feeds you his blood.

His favourite game is to play with your emotions. For a few days in a row he’ll be really sweet you you, cupping your face and kissing your forehead. Letting you sleep in his room.

After that he’ll switch.

He’ll manhandle you, feed from your roughly. He’ll keep you in your own room. One that’s bare and uncomfortable.

A few days after he’ll switch again and the cycle will repeat.

He likes watching you cry. He likes watching the hope drain out of your eyes as you realise this is your life now.

When he notices you stop reacting as much, he knows it’s time to start being a little nicer.

If that stops working he’ll compel you.

He plays this game again and again.

Life with Kol is impossible. He’s often over emotional and has no remorse for what he’s doing to you.

In this regard I’d say Kol could be one of the worst yandere to have.

He bores easily so there’s no telling how long he’ll keep you around for.

Finn Mikaelson

Worst trait: Primitive

For most of his life, Finn Mikaelson had been confined to a wooden box.

The only memories he had were those he made before having a dagger through his heart.

So to create a sense of comfort and nostalgia for himself he goes back to those times.

His obsession over his darling only plays into this.

He pictures you being his newly wed wife. He takes the two of your far away, to some distant Forrest.

He’ll build you a house in a cave, far away from the bustle of the modern world.

The jump from the cave would be too high for you as a human, leaving you stuck each day while he went out.

At some point he may take you with him. You’ll have to collect flowers and herbs for him to later craft into medicines and paint.

Everything is so basic.

There’s no technology to get in contact with anyone. You have no idea what Forrest your in.

Sometimes the moments in the woods bring you indescribable calm. Others you’re brought back to reality and a hate burns within.

Finn will want to play out his Fantasy for as long as possible.

He resents his vampire side. So apart from his sporadic feeding and daylight ring, he never mentions it.

He won’t turn you.

Not like this.

It would mean breaking his fantasy and the life you share.

You’ll die of natural, never by his hand.

That’s the only way you’ll escape him.

[yhs-x-reader]

🎀 Yuro x Confident!Reader 🎀

Confident!Reader, GN!Reader, Yuro is very self-conscious!

Hi! Sorry for being gone for so long. I hope to get some more posts out this month, and maybe even full one-shots! If you’ve sent in a request, so sorry I haven’t gotten to them yet. My writer’s block really gets me, especially if I get a request for a character I’m not familiar with. I’ll get to them eventually, but right now I want to make self-indulgent writings! Sooo… Expect J, Ellen, and Pie headcanons soon!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

Before you two even got together, Yuro was an absolute wreck from just the moment he saw you.

To set the record straight, Yuro isn’t the type of person to fall in love easily. Like, at all. He’s cynical, shy, and most of all, sensitive. One wrong move, and he’s already made up his mind on how feels about you. One could assume that perhaps this is the reason why he’s so lonely and isolated, but since he doesn’t tolerate anyone in the class, he would rather live through that than anything else. Bottom line is, Yuro hates people.

And then… you came along.

Not to say that he fell in love with you upon first sight, but rather… he was intimidated.

Again, Yuro is incredibly distrustful. When you first moved into the class, he didn’t want anything to do with you. Why would he, when someone as confident as you, could probably ruin his entire life with just one word? Popularity was a drug, Yuro had seen it all before, and thus, he needed to keep his head down.

….but you just wouldn’t let him.

You were so confident! The spring in your step never faltered, even when faced with tragedy. In fact, you seemed to flourish in these kinds of situations. You took charge, you were kind, but never a doormat. You weren’t afraid. You said things that Yuro wished he could say.

Beyond intimidation… Yuro had to admit that he was jealous. Sure, he was smart- top of the class next to people like J, Ellen, and few others- but that didn’t mean anything when his presence was never stable. Who could recognize him, when he was invisible to everyone?

Well… except for you, of course.

Despite Yuro’s shy demeanor, insistence on quietly pushing you away, and overall avoidance: you kept on pushing. He didn’t understand why. Wasn’t he boring? Weren’t you trying to use him? For what, his smarts? But you were smart too, what reason would you have to keep sticking around..?

Eventually, you wore down his defenses, and he slowly began to open up. You found out just how snarky he could be, how his poetry reflected his feelings when his words couldn’t be heard. He was like a different person when you were around!

And you… you were a different person to him, as well.

You weren’t like the others. You valued his opinions, and listened to him even if his voice was quiet. In class, if nobody heard him in discussions, you made sure that he was heard. You would call for attention on him, and if nobody valued what he had to say, you would glare and make sure that they would.

It was weird to be so acknowledged, to be handed kindness in such a town, but Yuro couldn’t get enough of it. He couldn’t get enough of you.

…And… He was the first to fall in love.

He dreaded the realization. When he realized that his heart was hammering in his chest, that his tail kept curling around you, and he seemed to always seek you in crowds; his entire world shattered.

The time he had with you was amazing, but the feelings? How could he live with himself, if he ever ruined this friendship?

It was rare for him to have friends at all… in fact, you were his only friend. There was no way he could have a partner!

Besides… you were so confident. You could have anything you wanted. Yuro was just someone who got lucky enough to be bothered by you one day.

Unable to bare his feelings, Yuro began to distance himself from you. It pained him, but the feelings pained him even more. He began to fill notebooks with poetry, all of their subjects being you, you, and you. He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was almost hurtful! How could you crash into his life and make him feel this way, when he knew that it could never be resolved!?

Eventually, you confront him for avoiding you. Of course you would.. you were confrontational, and he was just a “scaredy-cat.” Of course, he had to be forced to admit his feelings.

He fought to the very end. He said he was sick, he said that he was just nervous, he said that he didn’t mean to…

But when he drops his backpack, and you help him pick up spilled papers… you see the poetry. The unsent love letters.

And the cat is out of the bag.

Yuro rushes to explain himself, but you can already tell what’s going on by the warm tint of his face. Without thinking, he tears the papers out of your hands and tries to run, but you grab him by the scarf and keep him there.

And you confess that you felt the same as well.

Now, the two of you are closer than ever. Yuro is still reserved, but he’s much more open when he’s around you, and much more affectionate than you had expected.

He loves to nap with you, laying a head on your shoulder, or even offering his own for your head. Either way, just spending quiet time with you is his favorite activity. Just having your presence near him reminds him that you really do like him.

And no, the poetry doesn’t stop, in fact, it only intensifies. He loves to write about you, and he’s incredibly sappy when you finally get to read his writing. You find out that he loves romance novels, and suddenly it all makes sense.

He’s also really clingy! He loves holding hands with you, or having an arm around your waist at all times. His tail also curls around your leg subconsciously, and he’s veeeryyy embarrassed about it. He’s also very embarrassed when you notice that he purrs when you first pet him as a joke.

Also! You both gossip together. It’s very important that you get to hear all of Yuro’s snarky comments about everyone now. Buuut you do have to defend your friends every now and then. You’re slowly trying to make him more optimistic, but you know that it’s not easy.

“I-I didn’t think that someone like you, c-could ever like someone like me…”

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 5: Relations and Reminisce

“And you said yes?!”

“For the tenth time Ivy, yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” She throws her arms up dramatically. “I thought you were smart. How could you throw away any chance of escape for group therapy?”

I just spent the night in a black hole. Literally all light is gone from my isolated cell except for a tiny floodlight that only projects more spooky shadows on the gloomy walls. I don’t mind some free time to myself but it’s an overabundance I could do without. But today is my first day with Crane’s “experiments” and I hope they will distract me from the dreary lonesome.

“I applaud Calico for her bravery,” Nigma looks up from the crossword puzzle he’s working on. “Crane’s a hard nut to crack but I think she can handle him.”

“But she’s new to Arkham. Callie’s fresh meat for Crane.”

“Guys, guys.” I hold up my hands. “I’ve handled lunatics each day for three years.”

“Yeah, but this is Dr. Crane. The Scarecrow. You’ll never sleep again after he gets through with you.”

“Sleepless nights are a fear of childhood, Nigma. If anything I’m ready to embrace death come what may.”

The pair look at me as if I just announced that all the kittens in the world died. They’re supposed to be the lunatics but they look at me as if I’m just as mad as any other inmate.

“What? I’m well aware of universality. Death is unavoidable to every living thing at every moment of its life.”

Ivy and Nigma don’t appear to have a response and the room stays quiet, that is until slow clapping breaks the silence.

“Quite philosophical, Dr. Prentiss. Perhaps that can be extended further during your testing today.”

Dr. Crane’s voice pierces my thoughts with a chilly imagination. All morning I’ve been worrying about what tests he has planned. Strap me to a chair? Hang me upside-down? And what type of toxin? Air-based? Water-borne?

Ivy senses my discomfort and steps in front to block him. “You’ve stooped low, Crane. Testing on an innocent woman? You’ve got some nerve.” She flicks a few specks of pollen on him and I see Crane’s eyes go wide. “Just watch it. If she dies I may just have to cause a breakout and show them the basement.”

Basement? I know Arkham has a basement but what's so significant about-?

“And I can make sure your babies get tossed in the next compost bin,” Crane replies harshly and grabs my arm to pull me away before Ivy can scratch his eyes out while Nigma just laughs. “How can you even stand to talk to that enviro-mental-whacko?”

“Just because your toxin doesn’t work on her doesn’t give you a reason to be cross,” I answer calmly as we head into the cold, dark hallway. “At least she gives me the time of day, unlike my previous co-workers.”

We enter further into the maze of abandoned hallways and come across what appears to be a room that was used for an operating theater. Although he has no audience I shudder to think of what Crane’s prepared to show off. 

“Step up, please.” Crane gestures to the platform at the center of the room. One with restraints.

“Are you going to-?”

“Yes,” he replies. He knows what I’m thinking. “They will help protect you from hurting yourself. I’ve seen unrestrained patients carry out extreme measures, some including pulling their eyes out or running into the wall.”

I follow his instructions and lean up against the cold concrete. When I look over I see he’s preparing multiple syringes on the table.

“Just how many toxin variations do you have?” I ask with a hint of nervousness.

“Variety brings results. Right now I’m hoping to find a special dose to give to the lunatic who’s been interrupting my associates’ plans.”

The talk of Batman has only grown in the past few days I’ve been here and I can’t say I’m not curious. Rumors say he’s doing the police’s job and actually cleaning out the city’s criminals.

“He’s got you worried,” I say almost tauntingly as the doctor attaches my wrists to the straps.

“Don’t start,” Crane warns. “Soon he will seek out the drugs I’ve hidden and then I will give him an introduction he’ll never forget.” His crystal eyes drift over to face me directly. “I thought you were interested in the science of fear, Dr. Prentiss.”

“Unlike you I’m a psychiatrist with morals. One who doesn’t test toxins on patients. Get back to me when you’re not trying to kill the only justice in this world.”

He hums in response and returns to tightening the straps around my legs. “So you’re on the Batman’s side?”

“I’m on the side of justice, one you are very unfamiliar with. And by the way my interest is focused on death and the fear that revolves around it.”

Crane gets up and walks over to grab the first syringe with child-like giddiness. “We’ll start with one dose so it can filter out of your bloodstream. Then after the antidote kicks in we’ll go onto the next. I’ll administer this one through your brachial artery. Please inform me of any side effects immediately.”

I flinch as the needle pricks my arm and I feel the toxin surge into my blood. While I wait for whatever horrors this will bring, Crane watches with glee as if watching a magic act. There’s no rapid heartbeat or intense breathing like last time. There’s actually less- Oh.

“How do you feel?” Crane asks when he sees my eyes widen.

“I can’t. My feet have gone numb.”

He jots some notes down on some scrap paper and hurries back to administer the antidote. Instantly a cold sensation jolts through me and I can feel my feet again.”

“Do you make one for every dose?”

“Absolutely. In my years of research a way to reverse accidents is always useful.” He waits a few more seconds and decides the antidote has done its job. He holds up another syringe and pierces the needle into my other arm.

“What about now?”

After a few seconds I start to get dizzy. Is my skin supposed to get this hot? And why is it isolated?

“My waist feels warm.”

The doctor’s eyes lift up from his notes and take in my confused expression. “Interesting. Do you know what’s happening?”

“I’m getting a fever?”

Crane smirks and points to my eyes. “Let’s say that your dilated pupils tell enough.”

Does he mean what I think he means? The kind of repulsive side effects that make people’s minds melt into obeying, brainwashed zombies. 

“Are you saying I’m…?” I ask, disgusted.

Crane’s surprised smile says enough. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had-?”

“Do not use that word,” I snap and exhale. “No, Dr. Crane. I have not had urges.”

“Fascinating,” he observes as he looks over my pathetic state with wide eyes.

My eyes narrow. “How so?”

“I imagined a woman like you would have been through something by now but then you stated in your profile you are a virgin. Is this perhaps caused by philophobia? Genophobia, maybe?”

His guessing misses its target each time. He really doesn’t know. If it weren’t for the annoying dampness below this would actually be fun. 

“It’s just bugging you, isn’t it? The infamous Scarecrow can’t figure out my fear?”

The cunning doctor leans in with an amused smirk, his lips almost pressing against my ear. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

I can handle death. I can handle fear to some extent. But this? This is an all-new emotion I want to burn and bury in the depths of forgotten embarrassments. Just because I can’t control my own biological response doesn’t mean I can’t keep a clear head. Time to end this twisted game.

“I’ll spare you the trouble. Atychiphobia.”

Crane nods with a look that says he won. “Ah. The fear of failure. I should have expected that. Am I going to receive an explanation to go along with this?”

Fear of failure is a peculiar phobia. No matter how hard I try it always seems to make me second-guess everything. People praise me for my accomplishments at the same time I hate myself for not being perfect.

Now the effects of the failed toxin are replaced by a furrowed brow and clenched fists. Crane must think he’s struck the motherlode-

“It’s ok to be upset.”

That’s him? Did someone just replace Dr. Crane with a real therapist? He puts a hand on my still-shaking shoulder and for some reason part of my rage melts away. My mind can’t decide if I’m angry or depressed.

“I never had a ‘normal’ childhood since my parents sent me to prep school. They always wanted me to be the best at everything. Any time I did less than perfect they would shame me.” I scoff and look to the floor. “My father would yell while my mother ranted about how I disgrace the family name.”

“You obviously come from money,” Crane observes softly.

I shrug, still eyeing the cement floor. “It’s no big secret, really. If you do enough digging you’ll probably find news articles of me in high school winning the Metropolis Genius award with comments from my father about how ‘there’s always room for improvement.’ Money means nothing when it comes to love. Flaunting my parents’ riches never gained me anything but a spot in Metropolis University.”

The doctor nods again, almost appearing empathetic. "I think that's enough experiments for today."

I expect him to write more notes but he never does.

“Aren’t you going to write about how sad my childhood was?” I mock darkly. “Just another excuse to keep me locked up as a ‘crazed inmate.’”

But he just shakes his head. “I know a thing or two about family issues. We’ll keep this off the books, shall we?” 

This is the same person who sprayed me with fear gas?

“How did they die?”

There we are. Right back to picking apart my diagnosis.

My eyes narrow. “You know how. Anyone who watches the news knows.”

“It might be better if you say it-”

“They were killed, ok?” I burst, surprising both Jonathon and myself. “Another statistic to the growing number of casualties in Gotham. Some psychos blew up a bridge and they just happened to be driving on it.”

By now I’m shaking both from the last few effects left from the toxin and the emotional imbalance whirling inside me. If it weren’t for the straps still securing me to the wall  I would be bent over in tears. And that’s what happens when I feel Crane release my limbs from the restraints. My knees buckle and I go forward- But instead of ending up sprawled on the ground Crane catches me. I look up and want to yell at him for getting so close but my mind’s too full to speak, distraught with old memories and broken regrets.

“I can see now why you don’t fear death,” Crane whispers.

“The experience of death becomes more familiar the more you are exposed to it. A death of a family member or a close friend could impact how one sees death. Another instance could be a near-death experience such as a heart attack or car crash, causing possible trauma and a different view of death.” I take a shaky breath. “After my parents died, death became everything to me. I believe that if I walk the line of embracing death then I won’t be scared to do anything.”

Slowly, Crane walks me over to a chair and we both sit down. I’m not shaking so much now and I can actually think. “Maybe part of the reason I left Metropolis is to get a fresh start. Though this isn’t exactly the prime scenario.” I gesture to the dull operating theater.

Crane lets out what I think is an actual laugh. No mockery or sarcastic intention at all. “But you have to admit this is far more exciting. You need to loosen up, Dr. Prentiss.”

“And I suppose the man who dresses up in a burlap mask knows all about stress relief?” I arch a brow. “You don’t strike me as someone who goes clubbing.”

“You don’t seem the type either. Am I right?”

I give an annoyed grunt. “Yes. Social drinking is incredibly overrated and only results in bad decisions and depleted brain cells.”

“Speaking of brain cells-” Dr. Crane pulls out what looks like a mini calendar out of his pocket. “I’m scheduling you for both an MRI and a CT scan to make sure there’s no damage to yours.”

He gathers up his things and gestures for me to exit the theater. 

“All for me?” I gush dramatically as we head back to my ‘private cell.’ “Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

Before Crane closes the door he looks through the gate with what appears to be legit concern. “Can’t have a prime mind like yours going to waste, can I?”

[poems-by-b]

6.24.23

The right word for this

may not be a poem,

it may be a plea,

a desperate cry.

The summer is long,

and hard,

and painful.

It is lonely,

clarifying.

The silence sweeps over me

so loud I think my ears may burst.

I do not know how to grow used to

it being like this.

I do not know how to make

solitude my home.

How do I make them love me,

make them care,

when I am not the one they raised?

Two years have passed,

I have learned to raise myself in the ways that I am called.

Is it calling or oppression?

My mind cannot tell the difference—

one day I am full of peace, of hope;

the next, guilt rains on me like the perfect summer storm.

Shove it down, block it out,

who told you that was necessary?

Who told you to feel shame?

There is no place for it,

don't talk about it,

confess,

hold your tongue.

My mind flips and turns,

shoving words into my friends' mouths.

They are not here to deny them.

There is no one to quiet the unbearable thoughts.

They rattle in their cage,

angered at having

no way out.

There is no one to listen,

no one to tell them

they are so very untrue.

The din rises

unceasing.

Why doesn't anyone care?

Of course they care—

it is you who hopes they won't

care too much.

Don't send me away,

don't expose me.

Death lingers longest of all,

outlasting simple tortures.

No one sane keeps their mind this way.

They tidy and prune and expel.

Teach me to do that,

how did you learn?

What is the secret to asking God?

How can I copy your authenticity?

I remember to try

when there's no time left,

when I'm caught without a distraction,

when I can't drown out what's in my head.

The attempts don't stick.

They are scattered,

disjointed.

No cohesion, no consistency.

I busy my body

so my mind is the right kind of loud,

so I won't have to wonder

if I'll have parents today,

if my friends can stand to hear from me,

if I am selfish and cruel.

I think I must be—

all I can hear is myself,

all I can feel is my own anger,

rising,

rising.

Where is everyone?

Why can't they come home?

It's only after they slink and trudge into the house that

my body calls for isolation.

It rebels against them,

wielding frustration and hurt,

as they remind me

over and over

of why my soul is used to being alone until

I am crippled with fear

that I may not outlast this.

I scream and scream,

am met with the ringing of my own voice.

There is no answer.

When will someone hear me?

I hope it won't be too late.

I hope the measures won't be too drastic.

I want out,

get me out.

See me,

hear me,

love me,

heal me.

Won't anyone do anything?

I'm looking in the wrong place.

In an empty box,

there is only meaningless air.

I cry out for help, but it doesn't change.

When will it change?

I fix my eyes on the end of summer,

not on the one who can end my anguish.

I wonder how anyone can stand these months.

How can they take it?

How can they let it rest on their shoulders?

What am I doing that is so wrong?

How do I try?

I haven't learned how.

I need their help.

But it's my relationship,

my faith.

I feel like I'm supposed to know this.

They trust me to lead,

but I cannot take myself to the feet of God

to empty out my brain.

I must rely on pencils,

papers,

friends,

songs.

This part of me is broken.

Intimacy is impossible.

I don't know how to do this, God.

How much clearer can I say it?

My thoughts are clouded in darkness.

I want your light to break through.

This is my submission,

my plea,

my desperate cry.

Lead me out of my head and into your loving arms.

I cannot take another day without your embrace,

but I am too afraid to die.

It's not what I want.

I want to find my place with you.

I cannot do it myself.

Please show me, please show me.

I want to turn the silence

from a mark of my misery

into a chance to hear your voice.

I trust you,

now help me act.

Reveal my steps.

Please show me, please show me,

please.

[owlsandwich]

The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 12

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

We meet Aiden again!

(I'm sheduling these posts to go out overnight, so I'll add the full chapter links tomorrow)

Chapter 12 is below the cut:

The words in the heavy textbook blurred as Tamara’s body gave in to fatigue. Her magelight flickered from where it floated above the wide, heavy table, and she sent out another burst of focussed energy to steady it. Even the shield that she always ran against her skin had become too much effort to maintain. Long empty, the cosy isolation of her favourite corner of the palace library had kept her there far longer than intended, but getting up to leave seemed more exhausting that simply curling up in her chair.

With a yawn, Tamara closed the book and added it to her growing pile of discarded tomes. Her first assignment in this role and she was getting nowhere. Worse, she had promised Alex she would find answers. After speaking with him properly, Tamara was confident her instincts in Golebach were correct; the explosion was an accident, and they deserved to go home. To do so, however, she would need proof.

An echoing creak suddenly jolted her awake. Tamara snapped her head up, but a row of bookcases blocked her view of the library’s tall double doors. After a moment, the bright glare of an electric bulb flared into life near the entrance, causing her to squint as the shelves turned to silhouette.

Pins and needles shot down her legs as she unfurled them. Ignoring the discomfort, Tamara let her magelight die and headed towards the entrance, mindful of the sound of her steps on the hardwood floor. She hadn’t expected anyone to arrive at this time of night, and curiosity outweighed her desire to avoid an interaction. 

The entrance to the library was an open foyer with a wide sweeping staircase that led to further rows of shelves. A man came into view as Tamara approached, standing in front of the framed map that showed the layout of the two floors. Tall and slim, there was a sheen of red to his slick, brown hair, and for a second Tamara thought it was Morgan. Then he turned towards her, and she realised her error.

“Who’s there?”

Aiden Heliodor’s smooth voice sounded exceptionally confident for someone caught off guard in the dark. Tamara stepped into the open, deciding that that any chance she had of escaping notice had long passed. Though she had only met him briefly, Aiden had seemed friendly enough in Morgan’s office and she wondered if he would remember her.

“Tamara?” A smile broke across his handsome features. “Apologies if I startled you; I didn’t anticipate company this evening.” His words sounded unnaturally loud in the towering space, the bright light from the chandelier above the entrance spotlighting them as the rows of bookcases faded into shadow.

“Please, don’t worry.” She returned the smile, suddenly conscious of her crumpled clothes and obvious exhaustion. “I really should have left hours ago.” For his part Aiden showed no sign of weariness, his crisp shirt and grey blazer as fresh as his face. At least he didn’t seem offended by her approach. 

“Again, then, your timing has proved lucky for me.” Aiden crossed the space towards her. There was an amused spark in his eyes, and Tamara looked away in embarrassment as she remembered her intrusion into Morgan’s office. “I’m thrilled we finally have a chance to speak properly.” 

“Oh.” She heard the tinge of wariness in her own voice. People weren’t usually so pleased to see her and she wondered what motive Aiden had for his flattering words. “It’s nice to talk to you again as well.” She pulled her jacket tight against her chest. It seemed colder here, away from the warmth she had cultivated in her corner, and she briefly considered casting a spell for heat.

“It’s a shame we didn’t meet sooner. If you were still in Vailberg, I would have been delighted to add such a prominent magical researcher to my team. I admit, my loss is clearly Ardveld’s gain.”

Relief flooded through her at the mention of work and Tamara latched onto the subject, having feared that there might have been some other reason for his interest. Physically, Aiden posed no threat, but even she wasn’t naïve enough to discount his position.

“Are you here regarding your own research?” Her hurried question saved her from dwelling further on his praise. “The librarians have all left for the evening, but I might be able to help you find what you’re looking for. I’ve spent a lot of time in here since coming to Ardveld.” 

“Perhaps you can.” Aiden studied her, his amusement replaced by a passing displeasure that vanished as swiftly as she noticed it. “It has been some time since my last visit and there is only so much I am able to source remotely. I’m looking for unusual symbols, very old and uniquely Ardveldian.”

Back at the university, Tamara had rarely paid attention to anything outside her own field of magical efficiency. Still, she should have remembered Aiden’s own prowess as a researcher. Studying magic without any power of his own, the academic achievements of Vailberg’s prince were exceptional. His business, Sunstone Enterprises, was even successful enough to have financed the projects of many of Tamara’s contemporaries at its private research centre.

“Could you tell me what the symbols look like?” Now that she thought about it, she might have seen some relevant texts during her frantic search for information on ground magic. Half of the Ardveldian history section must be stacked at her desk.

“I can do one better.” White teeth flashed as his smile returned, and Tamara caught the perfumed scent of Aiden’s clothes as he moved closer. “Though you will have to forgive me for boring you with a work discussion.” He reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook, marked throughout with coloured tabs.

As he flipped the little book open, Tamara saw that each page held a hand drawn symbol, precisely inscribed, with notes below that seemed to explain its meaning or purpose. Each symbol followed a similar pattern, fine lines that ended with circles, and Tamara was sure she had seen something similar before.

“They relate to the original magic of Ardveld,” Aiden explained. “Perhaps used side by side with what we know today as passive spells. Or even used in their place.” He traced a finger over the symbol on the open page. “I am yet to determine their full capabilities, but I can assure you, nothing anyone else is researching right now could come close to the importance of what I am about to discover.”

Tamara caught her breath as Aiden looked down at her, the blue of his eyes almost black in the shadowed light. Arrogant, perhaps, but there was a passion to his words that made her believe them.

“I think I might have seen a symbol like this before.” She remembered now. “I have the book out already. Just over at my table.”

There was a dull snap as Aiden closed the notebook and slid it back into his inner pocket. With it went the intensity of the moment, and Tamara’s breathing returned to normal. Turning away, she jumped at the touch of his hand on her back. 

“Please, lead on.” Aiden was uncomfortably close, and she darted forward, inciting a chuckle from him in response.

Without her magelight, the table in the corner was dark. Tamara conjured a new one, catching Aiden watching her as she focused her will on the growing light. 

“I think there was something in this one. Typical it would be at the bottom…” Tamara began to disassemble her book tower, feeling some more of the tension ease now she had something to occupy her hands.

“Deep Ardveldian history. Not something I’d expect anyone else to be reading at three in the morning.” Aiden gave a conspiratorial wink as she handed the book across. “Now I regret not recruiting you even more.”

“Three! I hadn’t realised it was so late,” Tamara exclaimed. No wonder she had been flagging.

Aiden smiled. “Time gets away from us all when we’re having fun. Will I be seeing you at the dinner tomorrow evening? Or rather, this evening, considering the time.”

“Oh, yes.” She had been so occupied with Alex and Eira that she had forgotten the formal celebrations were so close. That must be why Aiden was in Ardveld after all.

It was the anniversary of Ardveld’s takeover, and every year the celebratory events spanned two days. The private dinner that Aiden had referenced would host every Ardveldian official, along with many Velbian guests of various degrees of importance. A garden party the day after was open to invited members the public. It wasn’t something that Tamara was particularly looking forward to, though having a friendly face to talk with would help. Hopefully Morgan wouldn’t find the time to ask about her progress on the case. “I’ll definitely be there.”

“Excellent!” Aiden tucked her book under his arm. “In that case, I look forward to more intriguing discussions.” 

He turned to walk away just as an idea sparked in Tamara’s mind. 

“I— Sorry, I should have asked before…” She scrambled to re-stack her book pile and took a few steps towards him. “Speaking of old Ardveldian magic, I don’t suppose you know much about natural magic, or ground magic maybe? A form of magic that could exist on its own, without a purpose?”

Aiden stopped walking and turned back towards her. “Why do you ask?” There was no charm in his expression this time, and Tamara could tell she had caught his attention.

“It doesn’t make much sense as a concept, I know. Magic is tied to a mage’s life force and I’ve never heard of any other source. It’s just that I’m working on a case and something’s not adding up.” Tamara was regretting mentioning anything already. Saying it all out loud made her discussion with Alex seem even more ridiculous.

Aiden wasn’t amused, though. “Tell me.” The command made her palms prick with sweat. 

“There was a magic... incident. In Golebach,” she explained hurriedly. Aiden’s frown was making her feel as though she was being interrogated. “An ancient site was damaged. I spoke to some... some witnesses when I was there, and one said that they had felt a kind of magic coming from the ground.”

Willingly bringing suspected criminals into the security of the palace seemed like a far less sensible course of action now that she was talking to a superior.

“I wouldn’t have given it much thought, but what I saw there couldn’t be explained by a mage acting alone. The force that caused the damage… It removed every passive spell in the vicinity! Residents are also saying there was an earthquake, but Ardveld doesn’t have—”

“Doesn’t have any tectonic activity.” Aiden finished the sentence for her. 

“I can’t find anything about magical earthquakes or ground magic anywhere,” Tamara sighed, looking back at the books. “I’m starting to think I was a fool for looking.” She was supposed to be a respected magical researcher, not some conspiracy theorist chasing after the ridiculous invention of an eighteen-year-old.

“This is—” Aiden stopped and Tamara looked back at him, expecting to see disappointment. Instead, his eyes were wide, staring past her. “I didn’t bring it… I’ll have someone fetch it from Vailberg immediately.” He muttered the words to himself, his fist clenched against his chest.

Unsure how to respond to the sudden shift in the tone of their conversation, Tamara watched Aiden’s agitation in silence. Then, suddenly, he clasped one of her hands between his own.

“If you find any more information about this, I want to be the first to know.” 

Without her shield, Tamara flinched at the contact. Still, she didn’t pull away. Aiden’s eyes bore into her own until, to her relief, he released her. Then, turning on his heel, he swept out of the library without another word, leaving Tamara once again alone in the echoing silence.