#maybe my trip never began in the first place
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slasherstories123 · 16 hours ago
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Could you do slashers reacting to their s/o (who never laughs no matter what) laughing for the first time, like a full in laughing fit because they saw the slashers trip or do something stupid while chasing a victim
Slashers reaction to their S/O laughing at them falling
Pairing: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and Brahms Heelshire x gn! reader
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Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @callsignwidow @endomishy
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Michael Myers
It was finally time for a movie night. You nearly begged for Michael to have one with you as a way to spend time together. He’s declined or have no signals and it left you frustrated. One day he finally agreed. So as a celebration, you bought him certain pajamas. It took a while to find regular plain blue ones that would be the same color of his coveralls.
Even then he approved the pajamas. Going upstairs to change after you begging him one again, even getting matching ones with him. You had everything set up on the table. A box of pizza, popcorn, and two bowls of different candy and chocolates. A large jug of water sat at the very front. Rubbing your hands together, you nearly had everything set.
Now you just needed Michael to join…
As you were about to call out for him, slow creaks came from upstairs. Maybe he was coming down. Slow steps began to come downstairs, before a loud thud at the bitten. You flinched at the loud impact. Slowly turning your head to see Michael on the ground.
He laid there. It didn’t even look like he was breathing either. His mask was pushed to the side with his arms and legs spread out. A snickered left your lips.
Michael sat up. Adjusting his mask so the dark circles could stare at you. You hid your face in the couch, hiding so you could giggle louder. When you looked back up Michael hovered above you. Making you burst out in laughter.
The sight of him on the floor never left your head, the image was stuck in your brain. Making you laugh even harder. Michael’s hands touched a pillow. Gripping it and hitting you in the face.
“Ow! It ain’t my fault you fell!” you exclaimed as he walked back upstairs…without falling this time.
You had to convince him for the next hour to have the movie night.
Jason Voorhees
He’ll only ever fall if he’s too focused to where he won’t see his surroundings.
You had to hide since trespassers were at the camp, yet you watched Jason as he followed screaming woman. What he didn’t notice was a backpack in front of him that the girl jumped over. He was focused. Too focused.
You didn’t want to shout or it would blow your cover and would get him distracted. You watched him trip over it. Landing straight on his face. Covering your mouth, you hid further behind the tree. Even then, when he fell his machete cut the fork in her back. Making her fall.
It led him to finish the job. Coming back to find you laughing on the ground. He tilted his head at your laughter. It took him a while to realize you were laughing at him.
Jason’s shoulders sulked slightly, turning his back on you.
“As come on it was funny I’m sorry!”
You walked to him. Calling down your laughter to make him look down at you. You reached your tippy toes just to place a kiss to his masked faces “There, you happy now?”
Him picking you up answered your question. Now taking you back to your shared cabin.
Brahms Heelshire
Sometimes Brahms left his toys out and never put them back. Eventually you got tired of cleaning up his mess and told him to do it himself, to which he declined too no matter what you did he still left toys around.
So, you gave up. There was no point in trying to make him do it. He’ll just have to learn the consequences a different way.
You waited for him on the couch to try and comb his hair. It might need a trim as well. After a while of waiting, you called out for him so he could hurry.
“Brahms! Come on so we can brush your hair, I’ll let you get ice cream after.”
“Ice cream?” a child voice filled your ears.
His footsteps became louder. And louder, they got eager at the mention of ice cream as a reward. Once his figure came into view, you adjusted your poster so he could sit on the ground. Brahms nearly made his way to you, his foot tripped over one of his cars. Falling on his back with a loud thud.
You were surprised that his mask didn’t fall off, but began to burst out in laughter. Pointing at him while holding onto your stomach.
“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed and sat up with a hand on his head.
You kept laughing. Curling up in a ball before flaking off the couch. Making Brahms laugh at you as payback. You would be mad, but you still couldn’t get over how Brahms fell.
Now you both laughed at each other falling. Your laughs echoing the empty manor.
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beemintty · 5 months ago
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i feel like I'm being punished. every step towards what i have wanted my entire life is like falling into a well.
a week and one day ago i left home with my girlfriend on the adventure of a lifetime-- 18 and traveling Australia with the love of my life in a 40 year old green Kombi that me and my grandad fitted out.
today we had to get what we thought was a small problem fixed at the auto electricians, but it turned into a six and a half hour job..... waiting for good news that was never coming.
now i'm back at square one and wondering if all this is worth it. worth the work, worth the money, and worth disappointment after disappointment and heartbreak after heart break.
what did i do to deserve all these setbacks to a dream i have tirelessly given my life to since i was 10 years old. this is why i worked my ass off. this is why i got through high school. what sin did i commit to deserve my heart being ripped out again and again.
all i wanted was to live my nomadic life in peace with my girlfriend and my vintage car... why, after all these years of trying to love a life i hated, won't the universe just give me this tiny victory, this tiny moment of peace.
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bunnis-monsters · 1 month ago
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🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️
Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)
Male!Drider x Fem!Reader
Oct2
warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise
summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.
A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…
my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~
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If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.
But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.
First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.
You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.
Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.
Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.
That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.
Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…
How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?
So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.
You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.
‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’
The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.
“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”
You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”
With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.
As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.
A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.
“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”
When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.
And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!
“Shit!”
You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.
By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.
You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.
“Fuck…”
Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.
You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.
This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.
Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.
It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.
Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…
The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.
‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’
But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.
You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…
Darkness.
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When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.
You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.
He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.
“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”
As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.
“Are those… webs..?”
You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.
“Indeed.”
The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.
Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.
‘The legend… is true?’
You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…
“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”
He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”
His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.
“Far from it…”
Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.
“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”
He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”
You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.
Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”
He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.
“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.
Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.
“Gods, you’re so soft…”
He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”
Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.
“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”
He smiled, beginning to push in.
“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”
It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.
“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”
And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.
He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”
Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…
He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…
He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.
“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”
As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.
So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?
You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.
“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”
The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.
So you decided to stay… at least for now…
Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~
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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
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gyuuberryy · 28 days ago
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trapped
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pairing: hotel owner!heeseung x reader, slight sunoo x reader
genre: reincarnation au, supernatural themes, horror
synopsis: a road trip with your parents gone wrong lands you at a mysterious mansion in the middle of nowhere. after it turns out to be a hotel, your parents decide to stop over. everything about this place screams deja vu to you which is strange because you've never even heard about it. the hotel was not the only weird thing though, its handsome yet mysterious owner who looked like he stepped out of the 1920s is way too enthusiastic about your stay. every encounter with him leaves you feeling weirded out yet enamoured. but he is not who you think he seems to be. he will be the one to decide the duration of your stay here and it looks like it will not be ending anytime soon.
warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION! horror themes, suggestive content, slight yandere themes, manipulation, possessive!hee, murder, blood, lmk if i missed anything
note: i just came back from a party and my legs are killingg me so im half awake as i post this BUTTT it's finally out!! i love this plot so much omg. i think the ending could've been written better but eh. enjoyy and lemme know what you think of it!
word count: 24.3k
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
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the endless bickering between your parents filled the car like white noise. you were used to it by now—too used to it—but today, it grated on your nerves more than usual. you pressed your forehead against the cold glass of the window, watching the dark trees rush by, a blurry mix of black and grey.
"well, if you hadn’t taken that ridiculous detour, we wouldn’t have wasted half the day!" your mom snapped, her voice rising with every syllable.
your dad clenched the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. "oh, right, because everything’s my fault! you’re the one who insisted we take this ‘bonding trip’ in the first place."
you sighed. there it was, that phrase again: bonding trip. a doomed effort to salvage what was left of your parents’ relationship before you left for your two-year exchange program. your mom had decided that spending time together, crammed in a car for hours on end, would somehow solve years of unresolved issues.
"maybe if you actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be in this mess!" your mom retorted, arms crossed, glaring at your dad from the passenger seat.
you resisted the urge to groan out loud and instead slumped back in your seat. what was the point? nothing ever changed between them. you glanced down at your phone; no service, of course. this road trip to the ‘resort’ was supposed to be a goodbye vacation before you headed overseas, but the way things were going, you were counting the hours until it was over.
the car began to slow down as your dad pulled into a shabby gas station. it wasn’t much—a couple of pumps under flickering neon lights and a small convenience store that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the early 2000s.
“we’re stopping here?” your mom said, exasperated. “this place looks like it’s one step away from falling apart.”
“we need gas and food. you can’t survive on passive-aggressive comments alone,” your dad muttered, turning the car off and stepping out.
you stifled a laugh but quickly hid it when your mom shot you a look. without a word, you pushed the door open, desperate for a break from their constant bickering. you could feel their voices rising behind you as you made your way towards the store, the bell over the door jingling weakly as you stepped inside.
the guy behind the counter looked about your age, his face illuminated by the dull glow of a hanging light. his disinterested gaze shifted from the magazine he was reading to you as you approached. the store smelled like stale chips and cheap air freshener, a layer of dust coating the shelves.
“hey,” you greeted, leaning against the counter, “do you know if there are any motels up ahead?”
the guy looked up, raising an eyebrow as if the question itself was a bother. he glanced at the darkening sky outside and then back at you. "motels? there’s a town maybe three or four hours ahead. not much else between here and there, though."
you frowned. “three or four hours?” your stomach twisted. that would mean driving into the night—and with your parents still at each other’s throats, the idea didn’t sit well with you.
“yeah,” he shrugged, “but it’s getting late. if i were you, i’d try to get there quick. you don’t wanna be out here after dark.”
his tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you nodded anyway, brushing it off. you grabbed a couple of snacks and paid quickly, eager to get out of the unsettling atmosphere of the store.
outside, the bickering had not only continued, but it had escalated. your mom was leaning against the car with her arms crossed, while your dad angrily fumbled with the gas pump.
“what do you mean it’s not taking the card?” your mom was saying, her voice sharp with irritation.
“i don’t know! maybe it’s your stupid card,” your dad shot back, slamming the pump back into its holder.
you rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. wordlessly, you tossed the snacks into the backseat and climbed in, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. you didn’t want to deal with their drama anymore. after a few more minutes of back-and-forth arguing, they finally got the gas pump working, and soon, you were back on the road.
the silence in the car was thick, broken only by the occasional sigh or muttered insult from the front seat. you kept your gaze fixed on the road ahead, trying to tune it all out, when suddenly the car began to sputter.
your dad’s face tightened as the car jerked, the dashboard lights flickering. “what the—?”
with a final shudder, the car rolled to a stop, dead on the side of a long, deserted road. darkness had fully settled around you, swallowing the car in a sea of black. you could barely make out the outline of the trees surrounding you, their twisted branches reaching up like claws against the sky.
“great,” your mom groaned, massaging her temples. “just perfect.”
your dad cursed under his breath and got out to pop the hood, leaving you and your mom in the eerie silence of the car. you sighed, reluctantly stepping out to help. you had no idea what you were doing, but sitting in the car doing nothing felt worse.
as you peered under the hood with your dad, who was muttering to himself as he checked the engine, your mom’s voice suddenly cut through the night air.
“look!” she said, her voice urgent. “there—do you see those lights?”
you looked up, squinting into the distance. sure enough, faint lights were flickering between the trees far ahead, barely visible but unmistakable.
a chill ran down your spine. you’d been looking at the gps not too long ago, and there hadn’t been any signs of life for miles. no towns. no houses. nothing.
“something’s not right,” you muttered, turning toward your dad. “there was nothing out here when i checked earlier.”
your dad waved you off, closing the hood with a loud bang. “you’re just tired. we’ll check it out. maybe there’s a house or something up ahead.”
your mom was already back in the car, apparently unconcerned. you stood there for a moment, staring at the mysterious lights that flickered in the distance. something about them felt… off, but as usual, no one was listening to you. with a groan of frustration, you climbed back into the car, your nerves tingling with unease.
the engine sputtered weakly to life once again, and as your dad drove toward the lights, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was waiting for you up ahead wasn’t what you thought it was.
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the car stuttered one last time before it gave up entirely, coming to a dead stop right in front of the lights. you blinked, heart racing as you took in the sight before you.
a mansion—no, the mansion—rose out of the darkness like something from an old gothic novel. the sprawling, ivy-clad structure stretched far beyond what you could make out in the dim light, its towers stabbing into the sky. faded stone gargoyles leered down from the corners of the building, their grim faces illuminated by the faint, flickering lamps that lined the driveway. the mansion seemed alive, ancient, its very presence looming over you like a dark shadow. it was eerily silent, save for the wind that whistled through the trees surrounding it.
for a second, you couldn’t breathe.
you swallowed hard. “this can’t be real.”
your dad got out of the car first, slamming the door shut with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “we’ll figure out the car in the morning,” he grumbled. “we don’t have a choice. let’s see if they’ll let us stay.”
your mom, already out of the car and standing beside him, nodded in agreement. she didn’t even look fazed, just happy to be somewhere with lights and (hopefully) a bed. “come on, it’s late,” she said, like she hadn’t noticed the eerie silence hanging in the air or the fact that this place seemed plucked out of another century.
“are you serious?” you muttered under your breath, standing frozen next to the car. “this place looks like a horror movie set.”
your dad gave you a weary look. “we’re not staying in the car, that’s for sure. stop being dramatic and come on. it’s just a mansion.”
just a mansion? you wanted to scream. there was no way this was a normal place—no way a mansion this large, this old, could have gone unnoticed on the gps. but the protests died in your throat when you realised neither of them cared. like always, they were too focused on practicalities to notice the screaming red flags around them.
with a sigh, you unwillingly followed them up the cracked stone steps that led to the massive, elaborately carved front doors. every footstep echoed, the wind seeming to still as you approached the entrance. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, like a pair of invisible eyes followed your every movement.
your dad pressed the doorbell—a soft chime rang out, sounding way too delicate for a place like this. you couldn’t help but wince, your nerves on edge. the silence that followed stretched on, thick and suffocating. it felt as though the mansion itself was holding its breath, waiting.
then, slowly, the door creaked open.
a young man stood in the doorway, his face illuminated by the warm glow of a chandelier behind him. his expression was neutral, almost blank, as if he had opened the door purely out of obligation. he was dressed impeccably, a sharp black tuxedo that seemed far too formal for a place like this—or maybe it was just perfect for this kind of mansion. either way, it unnerved you.
his eyes swept over your parents first, taking in their travel-worn appearance with little interest. “hello?” your dad started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “we, uh… we had some car trouble just outside. we were hoping… maybe you could help us?”
for a moment, the man—sunoo, as you’d later learn—didn’t say anything. he simply stood there, watching your parents with a blank face, like he was waiting for them to say something more interesting. his eyes flicked up to yours, and the world seemed to tilt slightly as his gaze met yours.
it was only for a second—just a fleeting moment—but something shifted in his expression. his cold, neutral stare melted into something… darker, more intrigued. a spark of something flashed in his eyes before his face returned to its impassive mask. the brief change left you rattled, a chill creeping up your spine.
your mom jumped in to break the awkward silence, her voice bright despite the situation. “yes, we’ve been driving for hours, and when our car broke down, we were hoping to find a place to stay. is this…” she glanced up at the looming mansion, almost sheepishly. “is this a hotel?”
there was a brief pause, and then, without warning, sunoo’s face split into the widest, most overenthusiastic grin you’d ever seen. it was such a drastic change from his earlier demeanour that it made your skin crawl. “oh, of course! you’ve come to the right place. this is a hotel, and you’re more than welcome to stay.” he extended an arm, gesturing grandly to the vast, dimly lit entryway behind him. “we have plenty of rooms available!”
your dad exhaled in relief, completely missing the oddity of sunoo’s exaggerated reaction. “thank god. you’re a lifesaver.”
you couldn’t stop staring at sunoo, watching the way his smile stretched just a little too wide, the way his eyes gleamed with something that wasn’t quite right. “this is a hotel?” you asked, voice filled with scepticism. “i didn’t see anything about it on the gps.”
sunoo’s eyes flicked back to you, and the unsettling smile never left his face. “oh? how strange. we’ve been here for a long time… surely, you must have heard about it.”
“no,” you said flatly, narrowing your eyes. “i’m sure. there was nothing around here.”
just as you were about to explain further, he smoothly cut you off with a bright, “well, no matter! you’re here now, and that’s what counts. come, come! let’s not waste any more time standing out in the cold.”
he practically ushered your parents through the doorway, his sudden energy making you want to take a step back. your dad muttered a quick “thank you” and walked right inside, your mom following closely behind. neither of them seemed to notice the way sunoo’s cheerful demeanour seemed… off.
you, however, couldn’t ignore the gnawing discomfort twisting in your gut. every instinct screamed at you to leave, to drag your parents back to the car, but the reality of your situation left you with little choice. sighing in frustration, you reluctantly followed them into the mansion.
the door shut behind you with an ominous thud that echoed through the long hallway, and the heavy weight of the mansion seemed to settle around you. you felt trapped, as if stepping into this place had sealed your fate.
as sunoo led your parents through the dimly lit entry hall, you lagged behind, your skin prickling with unease. you leaned toward your mom, lowering your voice to a whisper. “this is creepy. something’s not right about this place.”
she barely spared you a glance. “you’re being paranoid. it’s just an old mansion.”
“an old mansion that no one’s ever heard of? that wasn’t on the map? you didn’t see the way that guy was acting. he’s way too happy about us being stranded here.”
your dad huffed, clearly having reached the end of his patience. “it’s a hotel. we need a place to stay, and we don’t have any other options. you can sleep in the car if you’re that worried.”
you rolled your eyes, biting back the rest of your protests. of course, they wouldn’t listen. they never did. they couldn’t see the danger right in front of them.
as you followed your parents deeper into the mansion, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. the walls seemed to close in around you, and every footstep echoed like a warning.
something was wrong here. you knew it. you could feel it in your bones.
sunoo led your parents away, gesturing toward a desk where they could check in. you lingered behind, reluctant to follow them. the dimly lit hallway stretched before you, lined with dark wood panelling and framed with ornate carvings. despite the grandeur of the place, there was an eerie stillness that seemed to swallow every sound. no humming of guests, no distant chatter, no echoes of footsteps on marble floors—just a vast, consuming silence.
you slowly started walking, glancing around, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling crawling up your spine. for a hotel this size, it should have been bustling with activity. yet, there was no one. not a single person walking through the hallways, no staff except sunoo at the entrance. just the soft padding of your own footsteps, echoing like whispers through the still air.
as you turned a corner, your eyes landed on a giant painting mounted on the wall. you stopped in your tracks, something about it tugging at your mind. the painting depicted a dark, stormy landscape—a crumbling stone mansion, much like the one you stood in now, surrounded by leafless trees that seemed to reach out toward it like skeletal hands. the sky above was swirling with ominous clouds, and a full moon cast a pale, ghostly glow on the scene.
but it wasn’t just the image itself that made your skin crawl—it was the strange feeling of familiarity. you couldn’t shake the sensation that you’d seen this before, as though it was pulled from the corners of a forgotten memory. a knot formed in your chest as you stared, lost in thought. where have you seen this before?
suddenly, a voice, smooth as silk, broke through your thoughts.
“interesting, isn’t it?”
you jumped, your heart leaping into your throat as you spun around. standing behind you was a man, and not just any man—he was stunningly handsome. his dark hair was neatly styled, framing a face that could’ve been carved from marble. his suit, a luxurious black ensemble that fit him perfectly, was undeniably expensive. 
but what struck you most were his eyes—wide and dark, locked on yours with an intensity that sent a flush of heat creeping up your neck.
“i'm sorry,” he broke out into a soft laugh as he took a step back. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”
his voice was smooth, almost hypnotic, but he paused mid-sentence when his gaze landed squarely on your face. his eyes seemed to freeze there, widening slightly as if he were studying every detail. a look of surprise, or maybe recognition, flashed across his face for just a moment before he quickly composed himself. but the intensity in his stare remained, his eyes never leaving yours.
you felt a wave of flustered heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. he wasn’t just looking at you—he was seeing you, like you were the only person in the world. the weight of his attention made you feel strangely vulnerable, your pulse quickening in response.
you cleared your throat, trying to shake off the sudden rush of nerves. “uh… it’s fine,” you mumbled. “you just startled me.”
he blinked, as if snapping out of whatever trance had held him. a slow, charming smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “i’m heeseung,” he said, his voice smooth and deep. “the owner of this mansion.”
“the owner?” you echoed, taken aback. “wow. i… i wasn’t expecting to meet the owner so soon.”
he smiled again, a soft, enigmatic grin that sent another wave of unease down your spine. “i like to keep close to my guests. this place… it’s very special to me.”
you tried to return his smile but faltered slightly, still unsettled by how intently he was watching you. “i’m—” you began, but before you could introduce yourself, your parents’ voices echoed down the hall.
“there you are!” your dad called, striding over to where you stood with heeseung. your mom followed closely behind, oblivious to the awkward tension in the air. “we were just getting checked in.”
you barely had time to react before your dad turned to heeseung, giving him a polite nod. “this is the owner of the mansion,” you quickly explained, introducing him. “heeseung.”
your parents seemed relieved to meet someone in charge, especially after the ordeal with the car. “oh, thank you so much for accommodating us on such short notice,” your mom said with a grateful smile. “our car broke down just outside, and we didn’t know what else to do.”
you shot a glance at your parents, your eyes widening in warning. why are they telling him that? you thought in frustration. it wasn’t exactly the kind of information you wanted to share so freely—especially not in a place like this, with a stranger who gave off such unsettling vibes.
heeseung’s smile widened at your parents’ words, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was far too pleased to hear about your vulnerability. “no need to worry,” he said smoothly, his gaze briefly flicking back to you before focusing on your parents. “i’ll make sure your car is taken care of. i’ll have it sent for repairs tonight.”
“really?” your dad sounded relieved. “that’s incredibly generous. thank you.”
heeseung waved a hand dismissively. “it’s no trouble at all. you’re my guests now.” he paused, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “i’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”
you swallowed hard, fighting back the gnawing sense of dread as you all started heading down the hallway. the mansion seemed to stretch on forever, with countless doors and long, winding corridors. despite the size, heeseung explained that most rooms were booked, which meant you would be in a room far from your parents.
your room was tucked away in one of the mansion’s oldest wings, a beautifully vintage suite with antique furniture and intricate wallpaper. the four-poster bed was draped in elegant, embroidered sheets, and the room was bathed in the warm, golden glow of a chandelier. it was charming, old-fashioned, and just a little too perfect. the type of room that might seem cosy under normal circumstances but felt unnervingly isolated in this mansion.
after settling in, you reached for your phone, hoping to check for updates on the car—or anything, really—but your frown deepened when you realised there were no charging ports in the room. none at all. you glanced around, frustrated, searching for a way to charge your phone, but there was nothing modern about this place. to make matters worse, your phone had no cell reception. it was like the mansion existed in its own bubble, cut off from the rest of the world.
letting out an exasperated sigh, you tossed your phone onto the nightstand. looks like you’d have to borrow your dad’s power bank later. you were exhausted, but the nagging feeling of unease wouldn’t let you relax. after changing into your nightwear, you slipped under the heavy, ornate blankets, hoping that sleep would take over soon.
but as you lay in bed, staring up at the dark canopy above, you couldn’t help but feel that something—someone—was watching you.
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you lay in bed, the warmth of the heavy blankets doing little to ease the chill that seemed to settle deep in your bones. the eerie silence stretched on, the only sound the faint rustling of the curtains as a gentle breeze swept in from the cracked window. you hadn't noticed it was open before.
rolling onto your side, you glanced at your phone again. still no reception. it felt like you were completely cut off from the world, alone in this strange, sprawling mansion with no way to communicate with the outside. the feeling gnawed at you, a strange mix of frustration and unease swirling in your chest.
the longer you lay there, the more restless you became. every creak of the floorboards, every shift of the wind seemed to amplify the unsettling atmosphere around you. the chandelier overhead swayed gently, casting shifting shadows across the walls. you closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, telling yourself it was just a normal hotel. nothing weird, nothing out of the ordinary—just a quirky, old-fashioned place.
but the image of heeseung’s face kept creeping into your mind. the way his gaze lingered on you, intense and unreadable, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did. something about him felt off, not just unsettling but almost too perfect, too polished, as if he didn’t quite belong in a place like this.
eventually, the exhaustion started to pull you toward sleep. just as your mind began to blur at the edges, a soft sound reached your ears. a whisper. faint but unmistakable. you bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, heart hammering in your chest as you strained to hear.
at first, you thought it was the wind. but no, it wasn’t coming from outside—it was closer, much closer. the sound seemed to echo from just beyond your door, like soft voices carrying on a conversation, too low for you to make out the words. your skin prickled with unease.
you pushed back the blankets and slipped out of bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floor. the mansion felt even more imposing in the darkness, the once quaint vintage charm now taking on a more sinister tone. stepping cautiously, you moved toward the door, pressing your ear against it, listening.
nothing.
the whispering had stopped.
you hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob, debating whether you should open it. it’s just your imagination, you told yourself. you’re tired. you're in a creepy place. it’s normal to feel a little on edge.
but your curiosity—and the nagging sense of something being very wrong—won out. slowly, you turned the knob, the door creaking as it swung open into the dark hallway. the air was colder out here, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible scent of something sweet—like roses that had been left too long in the vase, just starting to wilt.
the hallway stretched out in both directions, the same eerie silence blanketing the mansion. no voices, no footsteps. nothing. but your eyes caught on something—the flickering light at the far end of the hall. the soft glow of a single candle, perched on a small table near one of the old-fashioned sitting areas.
you frowned. that candle hadn’t been lit earlier.
carefully, you padded down the hallway toward the light. as you got closer, you noticed something strange—the candle’s flame wasn’t moving. it stayed perfectly still, not even flickering despite the faint breeze you felt coming from the windows. it was almost like it wasn’t real.
just as you were about to reach it, a figure stepped out of the shadows.
you gasped, taking a step back, but quickly realised who it was.
heeseung stood before you, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the hallway. his suit was immaculate as before, not a single wrinkle out of place, and his expression was calm—too calm. he smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, though it sent a shiver down your spine.
you hesitated, your mind racing with questions. why was he here? why wasn’t there anyone else around? but instead, you forced a tight smile, trying to appear composed. “yeah, i guess… this place is just a little unsettling.”
heeseung tilted his head slightly, his gaze once again holding that unnerving intensity. “you’re not the first to say that. old places like this tend to… hold onto things. memories. feelings.” his words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken meaning.
you swallowed, the unease bubbling up again. “it’s just… weird that there’s no one else around. for such a big hotel, it’s completely empty.”
heeseung’s smile widened, but there was something off about it. “most guests prefer the quiet. it allows them to reflect, to... feel things they’ve long forgotten.”
there it was again—that cryptic, almost too-perfect way of speaking. it made your skin crawl.
“well,” you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, “i think i’ll head back to my room now. it’s late.”
as you turned to leave, heeseung reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. the contact sent a jolt through you, though his touch was oddly cold. you froze, glancing back at him.
“there’s no need to be afraid,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re safe here. i’ll make sure of it.”
the way he said those words—like a promise—sent another shiver down your spine. you forced a nod, pulling your arm away gently and stepping back. “thanks,” you mumbled, backing away from him.
heeseung watched you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable before he finally stepped aside, allowing you to retreat to your room.
once you were safely inside, you shut the door firmly behind you, heart still pounding in your chest. the mansion was far too quiet again, but this time it felt suffocating. something wasn’t right here, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.
you climbed back into bed, but sleep didn’t come easily. every sound, every shadow seemed to hold something sinister. and you couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, in this sprawling, empty mansion, heeseung was watching. waiting.
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the next morning, you were roused from sleep by a soft knock at your door. groggy and still heavy with sleep, you sat up, rubbing your eyes as the knocking continued, more insistent this time.
“coming,” you mumbled, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. you padded across the room, and when you opened the door, you found your mom standing there, a tired smile on her face.
“good morning, honey. they’ve called us for breakfast downstairs,” she said, her voice chipper despite the early hour. “you should hurry and get ready. we don’t want to be late.”
you nodded, stifling a yawn. “okay, i’ll be down in a minute.”
she gave you a small smile and headed back down the hallway. you shut the door and took a moment to shake off the lingering unease from the night before. the encounter with heeseung had left a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, and the mansion’s eerie stillness hadn’t done much to help. but this morning was different, right? it was daylight now, and everything felt less intimidating in the warm morning light streaming through the window.
you quickly got dressed, choosing something comfortable yet presentable. once you were ready, you stepped out into the hallway, glancing left and right. your mom hadn’t mentioned where the dining hall was, and you realised you had no idea how to find it. the mansion’s labyrinthine corridors all looked the same—long stretches of dark wood panelling and ornate furniture that seemed to belong to a different century.
with a sigh, you started walking, hoping you’d stumble upon it. as you rounded a corner, you nearly bumped into someone. you gasped, pulling back just in time, and looked up to find heeseung standing before you, a charming smile on his face.
“good morning,” he said, his voice smooth and soft. “i see you’re trying to find your way to breakfast?”
you nodded, trying to keep your tone neutral. “yeah, i’m not sure where the dining hall is.”
heeseung’s smile widened slightly. “no problem. i’m heading there myself. we can go together.”
you hesitated for a moment but nodded, falling into step beside him as he led the way. the hallway felt even longer with him by your side, his presence both unsettling and magnetic. he walked with an easy grace, like he belonged in a place like this, and yet something about him still made your skin prickle with unease.
“so,” he began after a few moments of silence, “you mentioned last night that you’re on a family vacation? that sounds lovely.”
you nodded, keeping your answers short. “yeah, just a road trip before i leave for university.”
“ah, university. where are you headed?”
“exchange program. i’ll be gone for two years,” you answered curtly, trying not to give too much away.
heeseung hummed thoughtfully. “that’s quite a long time. your parents must be proud—and a bit sad, i imagine.”
you shrugged, glancing away. “i guess.”
he let the silence stretch for a moment, and you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in that same intense way he had the night before. it was like he was trying to figure you out, peel back layers you didn’t even know you had. you kept your gaze forward, determined not to let him get under your skin.
finally, you reached the dining hall. heeseung pushed open the large double doors, and you stepped inside, immediately taking in the scene. the room was vast, grand in an old-world kind of way, with high ceilings and walls lined with towering windows draped in heavy velvet curtains. a long dining table dominated the centre of the room, stretching almost the entire length of the hall. the table was covered with a pristine white cloth, and an array of silverware was laid out with meticulous precision.
but what struck you most was how empty it was.
apart from your parents, who sat at one end of the long table, there was no one else. the chairs were all perfectly arranged, as if waiting for guests who had yet to arrive. but the eerie thing was, it felt like no one would arrive. the silence in the room only amplified the emptiness.
you frowned, glancing over at heeseung as he escorted you to the table. “where is everyone?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. “this place is huge, but... it’s like there’s no one else here.”
heeseung’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—something almost too quick to catch. “most of our guests prefer to have breakfast very early,” he explained smoothly. “they’re probably already off enjoying the grounds or have checked out. i typically have my breakfast after the guests. but since you’re a bit late this morning, i thought it would be nice to join you.”
you stared at him for a moment, trying to read between the lines of his carefully chosen words. it didn’t quite add up. the mansion had felt empty from the moment you’d arrived, and now, seeing this massive dining hall with only your family in it, that feeling only intensified. still, you didn’t press further. instead, you forced a small smile and nodded, going along with his explanation for now.
your parents, seemingly unaware of the strange atmosphere, smiled as you took a seat next to them. “this place is incredible, isn’t it?” your mom said, her eyes sparkling as she looked around the room. “i can’t believe how lucky we were to find it.”
you tried to match her enthusiasm, but something about this whole situation still felt off. the room, the empty table, heeseung’s unsettling politeness—it all gnawed at the back of your mind, a whisper of warning you couldn’t quite shake.
breakfast was laid out in a lavish spread, far more than the three of you could possibly eat. there were plates of fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and other delicacies you couldn’t even name. everything was prepared with a level of care and detail that felt almost excessive. you glanced at heeseung, who sat at the head of the table, watching your family with that same, unreadable smile.
he gestured toward the food. “please, help yourselves. i had the chef prepare a little bit of everything.”
your dad wasted no time digging in, clearly impressed by the spread. your mom followed suit, smiling warmly at heeseung as she complimented the food. you, on the other hand, hesitated, your appetite dulled by the nagging sense of something not quite right.
as you picked at your plate, you caught heeseung’s eyes on you again, his gaze sharp, studying, as if waiting for something. the way he watched you—so intently—made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
you couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the empty chairs, the empty mansion, you weren’t alone.
as you carefully picked at your food, trying to ignore the unnerving atmosphere, your dad set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. he turned to heeseung with a casual smile, though you could see the underlying hint of concern in his eyes.
“so,” your dad began, “any idea how long it’ll take for the car to be repaired? we’d like to get back on the road as soon as possible.”
heeseung, ever the picture of politeness, gave a reassuring smile, leaning back in his chair with ease. “not to worry, sir. the mechanic i contacted is very efficient. the car should be ready by this afternoon, if not sooner. you’ll be on your way in no time.”
your dad seemed relieved, nodding. “that’s great to hear. we were worried we’d be stuck out here for too long.”
heeseung’s smile widened slightly, though there was a strange glint in his eyes as he said, “we’d never dream of keeping you longer than necessary. but please, take your time enjoying our hospitality.”
you glanced up at him, something about his choice of words sending a ripple of discomfort through you. there was something about the way he spoke, always so measured, so... calculated. it was as if every word was carefully chosen for some hidden purpose. you couldn’t help but wonder what he really meant by that.
your parents finished their meals before you and heeseung, having arrived earlier to start breakfast. as they wiped their hands and prepared to stand, sunoo appeared at the door. his arrival was quiet, almost too quiet, and you hadn’t noticed him until he stepped into the room. he was dressed just as impeccably as before, his tuxedo crisp and perfect, but there was something off about his overly cheerful demeanour.
“if you’d like,” sunoo began, his eyes bright and a bit too wide, “i’d be happy to give you a tour of the gardens while you wait for the car. they’re lovely this time of year.”
your mom’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “oh, that sounds wonderful! what do you think, dear?” she asked your dad, who nodded in agreement.
“sure, why not? it’ll be nice to stretch our legs a bit.”
you watched as your parents exchanged smiles with sunoo, who beckoned them toward the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm. but your heart sank as you realised what this meant—your parents were leaving, and you were about to be left alone with heeseung.
before you could even offer to join them, sunoo ushered them out of the dining hall with a smile. “we’ll take our time, don’t worry! you two enjoy the rest of your breakfast.”
the door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving you sitting at the grand dining table, the echo of their footsteps fading into the distance.
and then it was just you.
and heeseung.
the silence stretched between you like a chasm, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. you tried to focus on your food, but the air felt thicker now, charged with an unsettling energy that made it hard to swallow. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you again with that same, intense scrutiny that had left you uneasy from the moment you arrived.
you kept your gaze fixed on your plate, hoping that if you didn’t look at him, he might just lose interest. but you could still sense his presence, feel the way his attention never wavered.
“you’re not eating much,” heeseung remarked, breaking the silence, his voice smooth and deceptively casual. “is the food not to your liking?”
his tone was polite, but there was a subtle edge to it that made you feel like the wrong answer could mean something more than just criticism. you forced a small smile, shaking your head.
“no, it’s fine. i’m just not that hungry.”
heeseung leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. “you seem... uncomfortable,” he said softly, his words hanging in the air. “is something bothering you?”
your pulse quickened. the way he asked the question, so calm and controlled, made you feel like he already knew the answer. like he was testing you, waiting to see how you’d respond. you didn’t want to give him any more reason to focus on you than he already had.
“no,” you replied, your voice a little too quick. “it’s just... a lot to take in. this place is... different.”
heeseung’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “different can be good,” he said, his eyes glittering with something you couldn’t quite place. “sometimes it’s the unexpected that makes an experience truly memorable.”
you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the strange tension between you growing heavier by the second. there was something almost predatory in the way he watched you, like he was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
“i suppose,” you muttered, pushing your food around your plate. “i guess i’m just not used to places like this.”
heeseung chuckled softly, the sound low and almost dangerous. “not many people are.”
another silence fell between you, thick and uncomfortable. you could hear the faint ticking of a distant clock, the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. you glanced toward the door, half-hoping sunoo and your parents would return sooner rather than later, but there was no sign of them.
heeseung’s voice interrupted your thoughts, his tone soft but insistent. “you didn’t seem very interested in the history of the mansion last night,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you. “but if you’d like, i could tell you a little more about it now. it has... quite the past.”
your throat tightened at his words. part of you wanted to refuse, to keep the conversation as shallow and short as possible, but another part of you couldn’t help but be curious. what kind of history could a place like this have? why did it feel like there was something dark lurking beneath the surface?
you hesitated, your fingers gripping your fork a little too tightly. “sure,” you said quietly, against your better judgement. “i’d like to hear about it.”
heeseung’s smile widened, a slow, almost sinister curl to his lips as he leaned forward again, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous kind of interest.
“good,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “because there’s so much for you to learn.”
heeseung’s words seemed to echo in the cavernous dining hall, each syllable hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest. you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how isolated you were from everyone else. your parents were somewhere outside, wandering the sprawling gardens with sunoo, oblivious to the tension brewing in this room. and you were here—alone with heeseung, who was studying you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
he leaned back in his chair, a slow, deliberate movement, his eyes never leaving yours. “this mansion has a long history,” he began, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “it’s been standing for centuries, long before this area became what it is now.”
you swallowed, trying to keep your unease from showing. “centuries? that’s... impressive.”
heeseung nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of his plate in a casual, almost absent-minded way. “impressive, yes. but also... haunted by its past.” his eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite place. “you see, many who come here find themselves drawn in by the allure of the unknown. they come seeking something different, something unique. and often, they find more than they bargained for.”
you felt a chill run down your spine. the way he spoke—so calm, so composed—made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. it was as if he was telling you a story he had told many times before, one with a punchline you wouldn’t like.
“what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice quiet but firm. you didn’t want to seem rattled, even though you were starting to feel like the walls were closing in around you.
heeseung’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “let’s just say this mansion has a way of revealing things... about the people who stay here. things they may not even realise about themselves.”
your pulse quickened. “that sounds a little ominous.”
heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and unsettling. “it’s not meant to be. it’s just... the nature of this place. it has a way of bringing the truth to the surface. you’ll see, in time.”
you didn’t like the way he said that, as if you were going to be here long enough for the mansion to work its mysterious magic on you. you were only supposed to stay until the car was fixed, and then you and your family would be gone. the thought of staying here any longer than necessary made your stomach churn.
“i don’t think we’ll be here long enough for that,” you said, forcing a small smile.
heeseung’s eyes flashed with something—disappointment? amusement? it was hard to tell. “you never know,” he said quietly, his gaze intense. “sometimes, plans change.”
you glanced away, focusing on your barely touched plate. the food that had once looked so appealing now seemed like a burden, something you had no appetite for. you just wanted this conversation to end, to find your parents and get out of this place as soon as possible.
as if sensing your discomfort, heeseung leaned back again, his demeanour shifting ever so slightly. “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, though there was a glint in his eyes that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. “it’s just that... guests here tend to stay longer than they anticipate. this place has a way of... captivating people.”
the word captivating sounded too much like trapping for your liking.
before you could respond, the door to the dining hall creaked open, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief as your parents entered, laughing and chatting with sunoo, who was still wearing his unsettlingly bright smile. their carefree demeanour was such a stark contrast to the tension you’d been feeling that it almost made you dizzy.
“sweetie, you should see the gardens!” your mom exclaimed as she approached the table, oblivious to the undercurrent of unease between you and heeseung. “they’re absolutely gorgeous. i’ve never seen anything like it.”
your dad nodded in agreement, beaming. “it’s like something out of a storybook.”
you forced a smile, trying to match their enthusiasm. “that’s great. i’m glad you had fun.”
sunoo’s eyes flicked to heeseung for a brief moment, something unspoken passing between them, and then he turned his bright gaze back to your family. “i’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to explore the rest of the estate before you leave.”
you stiffened at his words, catching the subtle implication. you weren’t leaving any time soon.
heeseung stood then, smoothing down the front of his suit, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat too long before he addressed your parents. “i’ve arranged for the mechanic to give me an update on the car shortly. in the meantime, please, make yourselves comfortable. feel free to explore the mansion further if you’d like.”
your parents seemed delighted by the prospect, but you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this place was trying to keep you here, that every step you took deeper into the mansion only tangled you further in its web.
heeseung’s gaze slid back to you, his smile as charming and unsettling as ever. “i’ll make sure everything is taken care of. don’t worry.”
but worry was all you could feel as your family began to follow sunoo out of the dining hall, leaving you to trail behind, your thoughts spinning. as you exited the room, you couldn’t help but glance back at heeseung, who stood by the door, watching you with that same piercing gaze.
there was something about the way he looked at you—something that made you feel like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
and you weren’t sure if you could escape.
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the afternoon dragged on in an unbearable haze of waiting. you, your parents, and heeseung sat in the grand living room, the heavy silence punctuated only by the occasional ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner. outside, the sky had darkened, heavy clouds looming like a bad omen. the only thing on your mind was the car—where it was, how much longer it would take, and when you could finally leave this unsettling mansion behind.
your parents seemed more at ease, happily sipping tea that sunoo had prepared earlier, oblivious to the undercurrent of unease that rippled beneath the surface of every interaction with heeseung. you, on the other hand, were fidgeting, your leg bouncing nervously as you tried to avoid catching heeseung’s gaze. he had been watching you ever since you mentioned the car, his expression growing darker, his easy charm slipping.
“you seem quite eager to leave,” heeseung finally said, breaking the silence. his voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, something cold hidden beneath the surface.
you glanced up at him, forcing a tight smile. “well, we have to get to our resort, and we’ve already spent a lot of time here. i’d hate to miss out on more of the trip.”
heeseung’s lips twitched, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t like it here?”
there was something almost accusatory in his tone, and it made your skin prickle. you hesitated, not wanting to offend him but unable to shake the growing feeling of unease that seemed to cling to the walls of this place.
“it’s not that,” you said carefully, shifting in your seat. “it’s just that we had plans. you know, a family bonding trip. and... well, we’ve been here longer than we expected.”
heeseung’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression unreadable. “plans change,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing just the slightest bit. “sometimes, staying a little longer can be... beneficial.”
a cold shiver ran down your spine at his words. the way he said it felt off, as if there was something deeper he wasn’t saying, something he didn’t want you to understand just yet. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, and sunoo appeared, running into the room with a frantic expression.
“heeseung!” sunoo called out breathlessly, his usual cheery demeanour replaced with genuine concern. “there’s a storm! a really bad one. the roads are flooding, and the mechanic just called—he can’t bring the car back today.”
your heart sank at his words, and you shot a glance at your parents, who exchanged a look of resignation.
your father sighed, rubbing his temples. “well, i guess we’re not going anywhere today.”
your mother nodded in agreement, placing her teacup down with a little clink. “we’ll have to stay another night, then. there’s nothing we can do about it.”
you could hardly believe it. you were so close to leaving, so close to getting out of this place, and now a storm? it felt too convenient, too well-timed. you turned to heeseung, expecting some kind of reaction, and you weren’t disappointed. he was smiling again—but this time, it was different. it wasn’t the charming, polished smile he had worn before. this one was darker, more predatory. his eyes glinted with something that made your stomach twist.
“i suppose that settles it,” heeseung said smoothly, his voice like silk. “looks like you’ll be our guests for another night.”
his words sent a wave of discomfort rolling through you, and you felt your throat tighten. you looked away, staring out the window as the rain began to pour in heavy sheets, the dark sky flashing occasionally with streaks of lightning. the storm outside felt like a reflection of the storm brewing within you.
“i’m sure the car will be ready first thing tomorrow,” your father said, ever the optimist, though his voice carried a tinge of doubt.
sunoo nodded enthusiastically, stepping forward with his usual bright smile. “of course! we’ll make sure everything is perfect for you until then. don’t worry!”
you wanted to scream. how could no one else feel what you were feeling? how could your parents be so at ease when everything about this situation screamed danger? the mansion, the people, the timing of the storm—it all felt like a trap closing in around you.
heeseung’s eyes flicked toward you again, and you caught the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. he knew. he knew how unsettled you were, how desperately you wanted to leave, and he was relishing it.
“please, make yourselves comfortable,” heeseung said, his gaze locking onto you as he stood up from his seat. “we have plenty of time to enjoy the rest of your stay. after all, it’s not every day you get to experience a place like this.”
his words felt like a warning, a reminder that you were stuck here, and you had no choice but to play along with whatever game he was setting up. you forced a smile, feeling your pulse quicken.
“great,” you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. but heeseung did. his eyes flashed with amusement, and he gave you a slow, knowing smile that made your skin crawl.
“don’t worry,” he said in a voice so low only you could hear. “you’ll be safe here.”
the way he said it made you doubt every word.
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that evening, the mansion’s eerie atmosphere feels heavier on your shoulders than ever. as the storm rages outside, you find yourself wandering through the darkened hallways, trying to shake off the strange feeling heeseung left you with earlier. something about his cryptic words keeps circling back in your mind, making it impossible to relax. you run your fingers along the old wooden bannister as you walk, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the too-quiet halls. but even that sound feels strange—the echoes don’t seem to bounce back to you the same way. it’s almost like they fade into the walls, swallowed by the house.
you pause as you notice a clock hanging on the wall ahead. the second hand ticks steadily, but when you glance at another clock just around the corner, you feel your skin prickle. the second hand on that clock is moving faster—much faster. you stand frozen, watching the two clocks run at different speeds, as if time itself is slipping out of sync.
the light overhead flickers, and you feel a chill run down your spine. the mansion is still as beautiful as it is unsettling, but tonight, it seems to be shifting in subtle ways. you walk further down the hallway, but something feels… wrong. the layout doesn’t seem quite right, as if the corridor you just passed should have been longer or led somewhere else entirely. you shake off the feeling, convincing yourself that it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you in this old, dimly lit place.
whispers. 
you swear you hear them. at first, you think it might just be the wind rattling through the old windows, but the sound is too human—too hushed, like voices speaking just outside the range of your hearing. you spin around, expecting to find someone behind you, but there’s nothing. just shadows dancing along the walls, moving ever so slightly as the flickering light fights to keep them at bay.
your pulse quickens as you walk on, drawn down a side corridor you’re sure you haven’t been down before. the walls here are different—more elaborate, with heavy drapery and intricate mouldings. at the end of the hallway, you come to a door. something about it makes you pause. you reach for the brass doorknob, your fingers brushing against the cold metal, and a shiver runs through you.
when you open it, a wave of familiarity washes over you, hitting you like a forgotten memory. inside, the room is dimly lit, filled with old-fashioned furniture that feels like it belongs to a different era—plush chairs, wooden tables with detailed carvings, and an antique music box sitting on a dresser. the air smells faintly of dust and something sweet, like old perfume that’s been lingering for years.
your eyes fall on the music box. it’s small, delicate, with intricate designs etched into its surface. without thinking, you step forward and reach out, fingers brushing lightly against it. before you can even wind the mechanism, it begins playing on its own, the soft, haunting melody filling the room.
your breath catches in your throat as that eerie sense of déjà vu tightens its grip on you. the tune is familiar—so familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve heard it before. it pulls at something deep within you, like a forgotten dream just out of reach. you’re transfixed, unable to pull away from the music, when suddenly, the door creaks behind you.
you whip around, and your heart skips a beat when you see heeseung standing in the doorway. his expression is unreadable, but there’s a coldness in his eyes that sends a shiver through you. he steps into the room, his presence filling the space, and the music stops abruptly, as if the mansion itself is responding to him.
“what are you doing here?” his voice is stern, not the smooth charm you’ve come to expect from him. there’s an edge to it that makes you take a step back.
“i—i was just looking around,” you stammer, feeling like a child caught snooping where they shouldn’t be. the weight of his gaze presses down on you as he moves closer.
“this is my study,” he says, his tone low and controlled, but you can hear the warning in his voice. “you’re not supposed to be in here.”
you feel a flush of embarrassment and unease wash over you. “i didn’t know… i just—”
“didn’t know?” heeseung cuts you off, raising an eyebrow as his eyes narrow. “or were you curious about what you’d find?”
the tension between you feels thick, almost suffocating. heeseung’s gaze is unwavering, as though he’s trying to read your every thought, his earlier charm replaced with something far more dangerous. you feel like you’ve crossed a line—one that you didn’t even know existed until now.
heeseung’s intense gaze softens slightly as he notices the way your face flushes with embarrassment. his lips part, as if he’s about to say something harsh, but then, as if catching himself, he lets out a sigh. the coldness in his eyes melts away, replaced by that familiar, smooth charm.
“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his voice lowering, smoothing over like silk. “why don’t i show you the library instead? i think you’ll find it... interesting.”
you hesitate, still rattled by the sharpness of his previous tone. something inside you whispers to be careful, to keep your distance. but the magnetic pull of heeseung’s presence is hard to resist, and despite your instincts, you find yourself nodding.
heeseung smiles faintly, though his expression remains unreadable. he gestures for you to follow him, and together, you walk down the dimly lit corridors of the mansion. the silence is unsettling, broken only by the soft shuffling of your footsteps against the creaky wooden floors. you can’t help but feel like the walls themselves are watching you, the weight of the mansion pressing in from all sides.
as you walk, you become aware of how time feels... off. the clocks you pass seem to tick irregularly, some faster, some slower, as though they belong to different realities entirely. the light filtering through the tall windows is dim, though it doesn’t seem like it’s evening yet. you glance back, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as if something—someone—is just out of sight.
you stumble over a loose tile, your thoughts breaking apart. with a yelp, you trip forward, bracing yourself for a fall. but before you hit the floor, strong hands catch you—heeseung, steadying you with effortless ease. his grip is firm but strangely gentle. you gasp, heart hammering in your chest as you realise how close he is.
“you should be more careful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, a hint of amusement playing at the edges of his voice.
“thanks,” you mutter, flustered as you quickly pull away from his touch. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you avoid his gaze as he releases you, his soft chuckle following you down the hall.
the library is massive, far larger than you anticipated. the shelves seem to stretch endlessly, filled with books of every size and colour, their spines gleaming under the warm light of chandeliers. the space feels grand and intimate all at once, the kind of place that would normally make you feel at ease, but here... something feels different.
heeseung watches you carefully, his dark eyes studying your every move. you glance at him for permission before running your fingers along the spines of the books, your curiosity getting the better of you. with a nod, he gives you his approval, and you can’t help but dart forward, eager to explore the room further.
you lose yourself in the rows of shelves, marvelling at the collection of novels, old tomes, and handwritten manuscripts that line the walls. the air smells of dust and aged paper, steeped in centuries of history. you glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see heeseung watching you, but he remains a respectful distance away, his gaze soft and almost fond as he follows your movements.
but something feels... off. as you drift deeper into the library, a strange sensation pulls at your mind, as if something is guiding you, drawing you toward a particular section. without thinking, you find yourself moving toward the back, where the older, dustier books are kept.
your fingertips brush across the spines of these ancient tomes, and an eerie sense of déjà vu washes over you. there’s something about this place—this corner of the library—that feels unsettlingly familiar, like you’ve been here before in another time. the hairs on your arms stand on end, and you shiver involuntarily.
just as your fingers graze the spine of a particularly worn book, you feel it—the presence behind you. heeseung.
you turn slowly to find him standing there, his expression unreadable, but there’s a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your breath catch. he takes a step toward you, and without realising it, you step back, your shoulders hitting the bookshelf behind you.
his eyes remain locked on yours, his proximity making it hard to think clearly. there’s no anger in his gaze now, just that familiar magnetic pull—like he’s trying to draw you closer, to see through you.
“you’re curious, aren’t you?” his voice is barely above a whisper, but it sends a shiver down your spine.
you swallow, trying to push back the fear creeping into your chest. “about what?”
“about this place. about me,” he replies, his tone smooth, almost teasing.
his eyes seem to darken as he takes another step forward, closing the distance between you. the heat of his body presses in on you, and you feel your pulse quicken as his fingers trail lightly along the bookshelf beside your head. heeseung’s smile sharpens, a predatory glint flashing in his gaze.
“curiosity can be dangerous,” he murmurs, his voice low and intoxicating. “you never know what you might uncover if you start digging too deep.”
his words hang in the air, a challenge laced with something far more sinister. your heart pounds in your chest, torn between the urge to escape and the overwhelming draw of his presence. you can feel his breath against your skin, his closeness making it hard to think, to breathe.
for a moment, neither of you speak. his gaze flickers to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you can sense the power he holds in this place—like he knows far more than he’s letting on. like he’s been waiting for you to find something... or for you to lose yourself completely.
you break the silence, your voice shaking slightly. “what do you want from me?”
heeseung smiles, though it’s a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. “maybe the question is... what do you want from me?”
the uneasy chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it. "you’re being ridiculous," you say, forcing more confidence into your voice than you actually feel. you try to shake off the tension hanging between you, hoping to laugh this off like it’s some strange dream.
but heeseung’s expression doesn’t change. he merely raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into the barest hint of a smirk. "very well then," he murmurs, his voice calm and unbothered, as though he knows something you don’t.
for a moment, you’re not sure whether you’ve defused the situation or walked deeper into it, but heeseung steps away, the heavy tension between you seeming to dissipate with each step he takes toward the door. he gestures with a small bow. "i’ll leave you to your evening, then."
you nod quickly, not trusting your voice to say anything that won’t betray the swirl of confusion and unease knotting in your chest. with that, heeseung disappears into the corridor, leaving you alone in the vast library. the silence is thick, almost oppressive, as if the mansion itself is holding its breath.
when you finally leave the library, your mind is buzzing. the conversation with heeseung, though cryptic, has left you more rattled than ever. his words, the way he watched you—there’s something deeper here, something you’re only starting to scratch the surface of. but, for now, you decide to push it aside. you need to clear your head.
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by the time dinner rolls around, you’re feeling on edge. your parents are already seated at the dining table, chatting quietly as you join them. the room is dimly lit, casting long shadows across the grand, empty space. it feels strange—eerily quiet without the other guests.
you glance around, frowning. “where’s heeseung? and the other guests?”
sunoo, who’s been silently setting the table, looks up at you with his usual cheery smile. "ah, i’m afraid the other guests have already had their meal earlier. heeseung sends his apologies—he’s been caught up in some... urgent business.”
it’s the same excuse they keep giving you, and each time it feels less believable. you open your mouth to press further, but before you can say anything, your mother cuts in with a light laugh. “honestly, you’re always so curious, darling. just let it go.”
her words sound playful, but there’s an odd edge to them, as if she’s brushing off your concerns without really thinking about them. you glance at your father, hoping for some support, but he just nods in agreement, distracted as he stirs his soup.
you bite your lip, trying to push down the growing frustration. why aren’t they worried? can’t they sense that something’s off here?
dinner passes in a strange blur, the silence at the table broken only by the clinking of silverware. sunoo continues to move about the room like nothing is wrong, but the more you watch him, the more something about him feels... rehearsed, like he’s going through the motions of being normal without actually feeling any of it.
after the meal, you head back to your room, feeling more unsettled than ever. your parents’ strange behaviour, the missing guests, heeseung’s cryptic words—it’s all starting to feel like pieces of a puzzle you can’t quite put together.
that night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. every creak of the floorboards, every faint whisper of the wind outside sends your nerves into overdrive. the mansion seems to come alive in the darkness, its walls groaning, floors shifting, as though it’s trying to speak to you—trying to tell you something.
you sit up, your heart pounding in your chest. there’s no way you’re getting any sleep tonight, not with this strange energy crackling around you. something is wrong with this place, and you need to figure it out.
quietly, you slip out of bed, careful not to make any noise as you tiptoe toward the door. the hallways are dimly lit, the chandeliers casting long, ghostly shadows against the walls. you pause for a moment, listening to the silence, and then make your way through the mansion, your footsteps soft on the old, creaky floors.
as you wander, something strange begins to happen. the air feels colder, heavier, and the walls seem to shift subtly, as though the layout of the mansion itself is changing. you turn down a corridor you don’t remember seeing before and find yourself in front of a door, slightly ajar, that you swear wasn’t there earlier.
your hand trembles as you push the door open.
inside, the room is dimly lit by a single flickering candle. it smells of dust and time, as though no one’s been here for years. but what catches your attention immediately are the photographs lining the walls—old, faded photographs in ornate frames. you step closer, squinting at the faces in the pictures.
your breath catches in your throat.
the people in these photos… they look like you. some of them even resemble your parents. the clothes are different, much older—decades, maybe centuries old—but the faces… it’s impossible. how could they look so familiar?
you take a step back, your heart racing. something about this room feels wrong, like you’ve stumbled onto something you weren’t meant to see.
your eyes scan the rest of the room, and that’s when you notice the guestbook sitting on an old wooden desk in the corner. you approach it cautiously, your fingers brushing over the brittle pages as you open it.
the names written inside are faded, barely legible from age. but as you turn the pages, one name catches your eye—your father’s name, written in the same elegant script as the others.
your heart pounds in your chest. you flip through more pages, and there’s your mother’s name, too. and then… your own.
but the dates next to the names don’t make any sense. they’re from decades ago, long before you were even born.
you slam the book shut, a chill running down your spine. this can’t be real. it doesn’t make sense.
before you can gather your thoughts, a soft creak echoes through the room. you whip around, your heart in your throat, and see a shadow flicker in the doorway.
it’s sunoo, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice soft but carrying an unsettling edge.
you freeze, unable to find the words to respond. sunoo steps further into the room, his ever-present smile feeling more like a mask than ever before.
“you shouldn’t be snooping around,” he says, his tone calm, almost soothing. “some things are better left alone.”
before you can say anything, sunoo’s eyes shift toward the guestbook in your hands. his smile falters for just a split second—barely noticeable, but enough to send a fresh wave of unease through you.
"i’ll take you back to your room,” he says, his voice steady again. “come on, it’s late.”
you don’t argue. you just nod,and follow him out of the room, feeling the weight of the mansion pressing down on you with every step.
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the next morning, you wake up to the sound of heavy rain beating against the windows. groaning, you pull the covers over your head, hoping that maybe the storm has let up by now, but from the relentless sound, it’s clear that isn’t the case.
you make your way downstairs, hoping for better news, but your parents are sitting at the breakfast table, both looking completely at ease, as though the weather outside is no big deal.
“good morning, sweetheart!” your mom chirps, her voice unnaturally bright.
"morning," you mumble, taking a seat as you glance toward the large windows in the dining room. the sky is a swirling mess of dark clouds, rain pouring down so hard you can barely see the surrounding grounds.
“storm’s not going anywhere for the next few days,” your dad says casually, stirring his coffee. “looks like we’re stuck here for a bit longer.”
you frown, a wave of frustration bubbling inside you. "what about the resort? the plans we made?"
your mom exchanges a glance with your dad, then she turns to you with a serene smile. “you know, maybe this is a sign. the resort will still be there later, and this mansion… well, it’s kind of charming in its own way, isn’t it? why not just enjoy it?”
you stare at her, incredulous. "you want to stay here?"
“it’s vintage, classy, and we’re already settled in. it feels… perfect, in a way,” your mother continues, her voice light but with an unsettling certainty. “it’s like we were meant to be here.”
something about the way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. you’ve been feeling like you weren’t supposed to be here at all—like you’ve stumbled into a trap you can’t escape. but looking at your parents’ relaxed faces, they clearly don’t share your unease.
you sigh, rubbing your temples. “fine. i guess we’re staying.”
it’s not like you have a choice anyway. the storm doesn’t seem like it’s stopping anytime soon, and the roads would be impossible to navigate in this weather.
you wander through the mansion’s winding hallways, the silence heavy and oppressive. no matter how grand or beautiful this place is, it feels like a cage—isolated, suffocating, filled with unseen eyes and secrets buried in every corner. the tension from this morning still clings to your thoughts like a dark cloud, refusing to let you find peace.
as you turn a corner, you nearly collide with sunoo, who’s balancing a tray of ingredients. his usual brightness doesn’t fade; instead, his eyes light up as he sees you. but there’s something in his smile—something mischievous, playful, and... unsettling.
"looking bored?" he asks with that trademark grin, though his eyes seem to flicker with something deeper. "want to bake something with me?"
you hesitate, feeling an odd sensation settle in your stomach. you haven’t exactly gotten close to sunoo since you arrived here. something about him always felt a little strange, as if he’s holding back, concealing his true self behind that playful mask. but the silence of the mansion is worse than the idea of baking with someone like him.
after a beat, you nod. "yeah, okay."
sunoo's grin widens, and he leads you into the mansion’s oversized kitchen, the high ceilings and gleaming countertops almost intimidating in their grandeur. you can’t help but feel like even this space is part of the house’s deception—too perfect, too polished.
“you’re in for a treat,” sunoo says, his voice slipping into a more casual tone as he sets the tray on the counter. “i make the best cookies you’ll ever taste.”
you don’t respond, already lost in your own thoughts, trying to distract yourself from everything that's happened. the tasks of measuring and mixing are a welcome escape. sunoo chatters on as he gathers ingredients, but you only half-listen, trying to ignore the prickle of unease creeping up your spine.
as you mix the batter, sunoo’s light-hearted teasing pulls you in despite yourself. his comments, although flippant, ease some of the tension you’ve been holding, and before you realise it, you’re laughing at one of his jokes. you sneak a bit of dough when he’s not looking, and it feels almost… normal.
but then sunoo catches you, playfully swatting your hand. "hey! no cheating!" he scolds with mock seriousness.
you let out a chuckle, taking the opportunity to swipe some flour onto his cheek. "oops."
sunoo gasps, clutching his chest in exaggerated shock. "oh, you’re going to pay for that."
before you can react, he smears flour across your nose. the playful gesture sends you both into fits of laughter, the tension of the mansion temporarily lifting. for a brief moment, the world outside this kitchen—its darkness and mysteries—feels far away. the warmth of sunoo’s laughter fills the room, and you can’t help but feel yourself relax in his presence.
but then something changes.
the playfulness lingers, but when sunoo’s hand grazes your arm, wiping away some flour from your cheek, the touch lingers a little longer than it should. his fingers brush your skin lightly, and suddenly, the laughter fades into a different kind of tension. his eyes meet yours, and for the briefest second, there’s something there—something unspoken, something... charged.
you swallow hard, unsure how to respond. the lighthearted moment has turned into something else entirely, and the air between you grows thick. sunoo’s grin remains, but his gaze—intense and a little too intimate—holds you captive for a moment longer than feels safe. you’re aware of his closeness, of how different this interaction feels compared to everything else between you.
and then, just as quickly, the moment is broken.
the sensation of being watched crawls back over your skin, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you freeze, the weight of a gaze pressing heavily on you, suffocating the playful atmosphere. slowly, you turn toward the doorway.
heeseung is standing there, leaning against the doorframe with an expression that makes your blood run cold. his eyes are locked on you, darker and more intense than you’ve ever seen them. the tension in the room shifts, and it’s no longer playful—it’s dangerous.
sunoo’s posture stiffens, but his smirk doesn’t falter. if anything, he seems to relish the moment. “oh, hey heeseung,” he drawls, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “we were just having a little fun. you don’t mind, do you?”
heeseung doesn’t respond right away, his gaze flicking from you to sunoo, then back to you. his eyes are sharp, a dark possessiveness brewing behind them. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. “i’m sure you’re keeping her... entertained.”
sunoo’s smirk widens as he steps a little closer to you, just enough to make the tension unbearable. “oh, absolutely. we make quite the team in here,” he says, his hand grazing your shoulder briefly in a gesture that feels too familiar, too intimate.
your heart races as you stand between them, caught in their unspoken battle. heeseung’s eyes darken further, his jaw clenched tightly as sunoo continues to play his game, his fingers brushing more flour off your cheek. the touch sends a jolt through you—not of comfort, but of confusion. why does this feel wrong? and why can’t you pull away?
heeseung’s calm facade cracks. he steps forward, his movements deliberate, as if every step brings him closer to an edge you can’t see. his voice, when he finally speaks, is smooth but holds a razor-sharp edge. “i think you’ve had enough fun for today.”
heeseung’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little too long, the touch possessive. sunoo’s playful demeanour falters slightly, but he steps back with a knowing look, eyes flicking between you and heeseung.
“i guess that’s my cue,” sunoo says with a sly wink, retreating from the kitchen. but before he leaves, his gaze lingers on you one last time, and in that moment, it feels like the game is far from over.
the moment sunoo is gone, the atmosphere shifts. heeseung’s hand lingers on your arm, his fingers ghosting over your skin as he pulls you closer, his gaze locking onto yours. his touch, once soft, now feels like a cage, holding you in place as his lips curl into a dark smile.
“you shouldn’t let him get so close to you,” heeseung says softly, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you with a dark intensity. “he doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”
your pulse quickens, and you try to pull away, but heeseung’s grip tightens. his eyes are soft, but the look in them is anything but. he’s watching you like you belong to him, and the thought sends another wave of fear crashing over you.
“i…” you don’t know what to say. you’re caught between the two of them, between the strange camaraderie they share and the way heeseung’s mood shifts on a knife’s edge.
heeseung leans closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “you should only trust me. i’m the one who cares about you.”
the words send a chill through you, and yet… you can’t pull away.
heeseung’s hand remains on your arm, his touch gentle but firm as he leads you out of the kitchen. his earlier tension has shifted into something more deliberate, more focused, and you can’t shake the feeling that he’s leading you somewhere for a reason—one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face.
“there’s a better way to pass the time,” he murmurs, his voice low as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. there’s something unreadable in his gaze, a dark glimmer of emotion that both unnerves and draws you in.
you don’t respond, your mind still spinning from the earlier interaction with sunoo, from the way heeseung had claimed your attention so completely. now, as he leads you down another unfamiliar hallway, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking deeper into something—into the very heart of the mansion’s secrets.
eventually, you reach a door at the end of the corridor, and heeseung pushes it open with a soft creak. the room beyond takes your breath away.
it’s elegant, grand in a way that feels both timeless and dreamlike. a grand piano sits in the centre, its polished surface gleaming under the light streaming in from a gigantic window. the window offers a perfect view of the garden outside, which—despite the ongoing storm—seems eerily peaceful, the flowers swaying gently as though untouched by the chaos in the sky.
you step inside, your feet moving almost of their own accord. the air in here feels different, thick with something unnameable. as you look around, that familiar feeling of déjà vu washes over you again, stronger this time. you’ve been here before—or at least, it feels like you have.
heeseung watches you closely, his dark eyes following your every movement. there’s something in his gaze—something that flickers between hunger and sorrow, desperation and longing. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to remember something important, something crucial.
without a word, he sits down at the piano. his fingers brush lightly over the keys, and after a brief moment of silence, he begins to play.
the melody is soft at first, gentle and haunting, and yet… you know it. somehow, impossibly, you recognize the tune even though you’ve never heard it before. the notes seem to pull at something deep inside you, stirring emotions you can’t explain.
as heeseung plays, his gaze never leaves you. his eyes are dark, intense, filled with a pain that tugs at your heart. but behind that pain, there’s something else—something dangerous, something that feels like it’s pulling you toward him, binding you to him in ways you can’t understand.
the music swells, filling the room with a haunting beauty that leaves you breathless. your chest tightens, and before you realise what’s happening, you feel tears streaming down your face. your body moves on its own, your feet carrying you across the room toward heeseung.
you stop in front of him, your vision blurred with tears. gently, almost instinctively, you reach out and place your hand on his cheek. his skin is warm under your touch, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, leaning into your hand as if savouring the contact.
the final note of the melody lingers in the air, and heeseung’s fingers are still on the keys. the silence that follows feels thick, heavy with unspoken words and unasked questions.
you gasp, suddenly realising what you’re doing. you pull your hand away from his face, stepping back as if you’ve crossed an invisible line. your heart pounds in your chest, your mind swirling with confusion.
“i—i’m sorry,” you stammer, wiping at your tears. “i don’t know what came over me.”
heeseung opens his eyes slowly, and when he looks at you, there’s a sadness there so profound it makes your heart ache. he doesn’t speak for a long moment, simply watching you as though waiting for you to understand something.
you take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “what is this place, heeseung? why… why does it feel like i’ve been here before?”
his expression darkens, his gaze growing distant as if he’s wrestling with something inside himself. for a moment, you think he’s going to deflect your questions like he always does, but then, to your surprise, he speaks.
“this mansion,” he begins, his voice low and almost resigned, “is not what it seems.”
your blood runs cold at his words, and you feel a chill creep up your spine.
“what do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
heeseung rises from the piano bench, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. there’s something predatory in the way he moves, but there’s also a deep sadness in his eyes, as though he’s weighed down by centuries of pain.
“this place…” he says quietly, glancing around the room. “it has a way of trapping those who stay too long. the walls, the halls—they shift, they change, and time here doesn’t flow the way it should.”
your mind races as you process his words. “trapping? how?”
heeseung’s gaze locks with yours, his expression unreadable. “the mansion is alive in its own way. it feeds off the presence of those who come here, twisting their reality until they can no longer leave.”
you take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “are you saying… we’re trapped?”
heeseung’s jaw tightens, and he looks away, his hands clenched at his sides. “yes,” he says softly. “but you… you’re different.”
“different?” you echo, confusion swirling in your mind. “what do you mean?”
heeseung steps closer, his eyes filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. “the mansion brought you here for a reason. it’s not a coincidence that you ended up at this place—it’s because of who you are.”
you shake your head, backing away from him. “what are you talking about?”
heeseung’s gaze is piercing, and his next words make your blood run cold.
“you’ve been here before,” he says, his voice low. “a long time ago.”
your heart skips a beat, and you feel a wave of nausea wash over you. “that’s impossible.”
heeseung takes another step forward, his eyes filled with desperation now. “it’s not impossible. you were here, in another time, in another life. and you were with me.”
the room feels like it’s spinning. your thoughts race as you try to make sense of his words, but nothing adds up. “you’re lying,” you whisper, but even as you say it, a part of you knows that he’s telling the truth.
“i’m not lying,” heeseung says, his voice filled with quiet sorrow. “we were together, bound to this place. and now… the mansion has brought you back to me.”
you shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t understand.”
heeseung’s expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. “the mansion has a way of bringing people back, of trapping them in a cycle. i’m bound to this place, cursed to live here for eternity. and now that you’re here again…”
he doesn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hangs in the air.
you take a shaky breath, your mind reeling. “you think… you think i’m supposed to share your fate?”
heeseung looks at you with a mix of desperation and longing. “i don’t know. but i do know that this place… it won’t let you leave easily.”
the weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a chill run through you. the mansion—the strange feeling of familiarity, the way time seemed to warp—it all suddenly makes sense. you were meant to be here, drawn back into heeseung’s orbit, bound by forces far beyond your control.
but even as you grapple with the reality of it, one question burns in your mind: what are you willing to do to escape? and more importantly, are you even sure you want to?
the air between you and heeseung feels heavy after his haunting confession, a truth that lingers like a cloud over your thoughts. your heart is racing, torn between fear and an inexplicable pull towards him. his words replay in your mind, looping with eerie familiarity: you’ve been here before. with me.
it doesn’t make sense, and yet somehow, in the deep recesses of your memory, it does.
heeseung’s dark eyes soften as he steps closer to you, his previous intensity fading into something almost fragile. you expect him to push further, to lock you into his twisted truth, but instead, his posture slackens as if he’s letting go of something—some control he’s been gripping too tightly. there’s a new softness in his gaze, and it catches you off guard.
“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… this place, this mansion—it does things to people. to me.”
he reaches out, hesitant, as if afraid you might flinch away. but you don’t. you stand frozen, your mind still reeling. when his fingers brush against your arm, there’s a strange warmth to his touch, and you feel that pull again, that magnetic force that both terrifies and draws you to him.
"i've been trapped here for so long," he continues, his voice trembling just slightly. he sits down on the sofa by the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows on his face, highlighting the hollowness in his expression. “i don’t even know how much time has passed. decades? centuries? it all blurs together after a while.”
you remain standing, watching him closely. his earlier intensity—the predatory edge in his voice—seems to have dissolved, leaving behind someone who looks genuinely broken. his eyes drop to the floor, and for the first time since you arrived, he looks vulnerable, as though the weight of his endless existence is finally catching up to him.
“i didn’t ask for this,” heeseung says, his voice raw with emotion. “i didn’t ask to be bound here, to this place. i never wanted to be a prisoner.” he glances up at you, and in the dim light, you see something flickering in his gaze: pain, longing… regret.
your chest tightens. the mansion, the strange events, the unshakable feeling that you’ve been here before—it all swirls inside your head like a storm. but now, looking at him, sitting in front of you like this, you feel a pang of sympathy. maybe he isn’t the monster you thought he was. maybe he’s just as trapped as you are, desperate for a way out.
you find yourself stepping closer to him, your feet moving on their own. you sit down beside him, keeping a small distance, your body tense. for a long moment, neither of you speak. the only sound is the crackling of the fire, filling the room with warmth and an eerie sense of peace.
“i’m sorry,” heeseung whispers, his voice so soft it almost gets lost in the quiet. “for dragging you into this. you shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”
your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his words, and against your better judgement, you find yourself reaching out, your hand resting on his. he looks down at the contact, his eyes wide as if he didn’t expect your touch, and for a fleeting moment, he closes his eyes, savouring the warmth.
“it’s not your fault,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “none of this is your fault.”
heeseung’s eyes snap open, and he looks at you, truly looks at you, with a mix of shock and something else—something deeper. for a long time, neither of you speaks, but the silence between you feels heavy with unspoken words.
then, without warning, he lets out a shaky breath, almost a laugh, though there’s no humour in it. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all of this,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “maybe because you’re the first person i’ve seen in so long… maybe because i’ve been alone for too long.”
the sadness in his voice tugs at your heart. you can’t help but imagine what it must be like—to be stuck in this place for eternity, unable to leave, watching the world move on without you. the thought sends a chill down your spine.
“i don’t want you to be alone anymore,” you say, the words escaping your lips before you can stop them.
heeseung’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the weight of your words hanging in the air. then, slowly, he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your arm, the touch light and hesitant, as though he’s afraid of pushing you away.
“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “if you stay… you’ll be trapped, just like me.”
the reality of his words hits you like a wave of cold water, but even as you register the danger, you can’t seem to pull away from him. there’s something about heeseung that draws you in, something that makes you want to help him, even if it means risking yourself.
“i’m not afraid,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know why, but i feel like… like i know you. like we’ve been through this before.”
heeseung’s breath catches, and for a moment, he looks at you with such intensity that it takes your breath away. then, without a word, he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly as though he’s afraid you might slip away.
“i wish it could be different,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet desperation. “i wish i could let you go, but… i can’t.”
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the next few days pass in a blur of quiet moments shared between you and heeseung. there’s an unspoken understanding that neither of you fully addresses—the haunting truth of the mansion and its curse—but in these days, heeseung’s vulnerability and warmth seem genuine. the dark edges of his earlier intensity have softened, leaving you with the version of him that feels...safe.
each evening, the two of you sit together by the grand fireplace in the main hall, the warmth of the flames casting a golden glow over heeseung’s features. the way he speaks to you during these moments is intimate, his voice low and soothing. he shares bits and pieces of his past—not the dark, twisted parts, but memories of beauty and light.
one night, you find yourselves sitting across from one another at a small, round table, a cosy dinner spread out between you. the fire crackles beside you, filling the room with warmth. heeseung had insisted on preparing the meal, and though you’d never seen him cook before, the food is surprisingly delicious. it’s simple, nothing extravagant, but there’s something deeply comforting about the whole scene.
heeseung pours you a glass of wine, the red liquid glistening in the candlelight. he smiles gently as he hands it to you, and for the first time since you arrived, the tension between you feels like it’s beginning to ease.
“it feels normal, doesn’t it?” he asks quietly, his voice tinged with something you can’t quite place—hope, maybe. “like we could be anyone, anywhere. like none of this…” he gestures vaguely to the mansion around you, “…exists.”
you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness before you nod. “it does,” you agree softly. “for the first time since i got here, it feels… peaceful.”
heeseung’s gaze lingers on you, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted. a moment of peace.”
the words hang in the air between you, and you can’t help but feel the weight of them. heeseung’s life—if you can even call it that—has been one long stretch of isolation and pain. and now, here he is, seeking solace in the small moments he can share with you. your heart aches for him.
“you’ve been alone for so long,” you murmur, placing your hand on top of his. his skin is warm beneath your touch, and for a moment, heeseung’s eyes flicker with something deep, something raw.
“i’ve had to be,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “i don’t know what i’d become if i let myself feel anything. if i let myself believe that things could ever be different.”
he looks away, staring into the fire as if searching for answers in the flames. “but with you… it feels different. like there’s a chance for something better.”
your chest tightens at his words. there’s a sincerity in his voice that you can’t deny, a vulnerability that makes you want to believe him. you’ve seen the darkness in heeseung, felt the weight of his mysterious past, but now… now you see the man beneath it all. the man who’s been trapped, longing for freedom, for connection.
“i want to help you, heeseung,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know how, but… i want to try.”
heeseung turns back to you, his eyes shining with something akin to hope. he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against your knuckles. the gesture is tender, intimate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“you’ve already done more for me than you know,” he whispers. his gaze locks with yours, and in that moment, it feels like the rest of the world falls away. there’s only you and him, caught in this strange, timeless place.
the next morning, heeseung takes you on a walk through the mansion’s garden. the day is overcast, the sky a soft blanket of grey, but the air is warm, filled with the scent of the blooming flowers that line the winding paths. it’s quiet out here, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the chirp of a bird hidden somewhere in the overgrown hedges.
heeseung leads you toward the edge of the garden, where a large, ancient tree stands tall and proud, its branches stretching out like arms welcoming you. the bark is weathered, covered in thick moss, and there’s a certain energy that emanates from it, something both powerful and deeply familiar.
“this tree,” heeseung begins softly, running his hand over the rough bark, “has been here longer than the mansion itself. some say it’s the heart of this place, that it holds the memories of all those who’ve lived here.”
you step closer, staring up at the gnarled branches twisting above you. there’s something haunting about the tree, something that feels almost… alive.
“it’s strange,” you murmur, “but i feel like i know this tree. like i’ve stood here before.”
heeseung turns to you, his gaze filled with a deep intensity. “that’s because you have.”
your breath catches at his words, and you glance up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “what do you mean?”
heeseung steps closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “there are pieces of you that remember this place,” he says quietly. “just like there are pieces of me that have never forgotten you.”
his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a strange pull toward him once again, a sense that the two of you are bound together by something far greater than just this moment.
“do you ever wonder,” heeseung asks, his voice barely above a whisper, “why this place feels like home?”
your mind races, trying to process the weight of his question. you don’t know how to answer, because the truth is, you’ve been wondering that since the moment you arrived. and now, with heeseung standing beside you, the mansion looming behind you, and the ancient tree towering above you, the feeling is stronger than ever.
“maybe,” you whisper, “it’s because it is.”
heeseung’s gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, it feels like time itself stops. there’s a deep, unspoken understanding between you—a sense that, no matter how much you try to fight it, your fates are intertwined.
but as the days pass, those sweet moments with heeseung—the cosy dinners by the fire, the walks through the garden, the soft, lingering touches—begin to feel like something more. they feel like a promise. like he’s slowly binding you to this place, to him.
and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe that’s exactly what he wants.
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the following morning is quieter than usual, with heeseung nowhere to be found. you drift through the halls of the mansion, feeling a strange mix of restlessness and curiosity, until you find yourself in the kitchen. the smell of something sweet wafts through the air, and when you step inside, you see sunoo standing by the counter, mixing a bowl of dough with effortless grace.
he looks up as you enter, a bright smile spreading across his face. “good morning!” he chirps, his voice as light and cheerful as always. “i thought we could bake something today. you seemed to enjoy the cookies i made last time.”
you hesitate in the doorway, unsure why your chest tightens a little at his easy demeanour. sunoo has always been polite and warm, a calming presence in the otherwise eerie mansion, but lately, something about him has started to feel... off. his constant cheerfulness, his perfect hospitality—it all seems too deliberate, too practised.
still, you find yourself drawn to the idea of something normal, something grounded in the here and now. so you nod, stepping into the kitchen to join him.
“what are we making?” you ask, moving to stand beside him at the counter.
sunoo beams. “heeseung loves cinnamon rolls,” he says with a knowing glint in his eye. “i thought we’d make a batch for him.”
you feel a flutter in your chest at the mention of heeseung. you’ve spent so much time with him lately that it’s hard not to think about him constantly. 
“how long have you been here, sunoo?” you ask after a moment, trying to sound casual. you’ve never really asked before—never thought to, really—but now that you’ve started thinking about it, the question gnaws at you.
sunoo’s smile tightens just a fraction, his hands stilling for a moment before he continues kneading. “longer than i can remember,” he says with a light laugh. “time is strange here. you lose track after a while.”
his words send a shiver down your spine. you’ve heard heeseung talk about the mansion warping time, but to hear sunoo echo the same sentiment makes it feel even more real. and the way he brushes off the question only adds to the growing sense of unease.
you try to shake the feeling, focusing instead on helping him roll out the dough. the kitchen feels warm and cosy, a stark contrast to the unsettling thoughts swirling in your mind. sunoo hums softly as he works, his movements fluid and graceful.
but then, just as you’re starting to relax again, sunoo speaks, his voice soft but laced with something... knowing.
“cinnamon rolls were always your favourite, too.”
you freeze, your hand hovering over the tray of dough. his words sink in slowly, like a cold drop of water trickling down your spine.
“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
sunoo looks up at you, blinking in confusion as if he doesn’t quite understand the gravity of what he’s just said. “i said cinnamon rolls were always your favourite,” he repeats, his tone casual but his eyes flickering with something deeper.
you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “how would you know that?”
for the first time since you’ve met him, sunoo seems caught off guard. his usually calm, cheerful demeanour falters, and he fumbles with his words. “i-i mean, heeseung mentioned it once,” he says quickly, his smile strained. “you must’ve said something about it, right?”
but you know you didn’t. you’ve never mentioned cinnamon rolls or anything about your preferences to either of them. you would remember if you had. and the way sunoo’s face pales slightly, the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes—none of it feels right.
“sunoo,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended. “how do you really know that?”
he straightens up, the playful light in his eyes dimming. for a brief moment, you see something else in him—something darker, something far more calculated than the friendly host you’ve come to know. he looks at you as though measuring his next move, deciding how much to say.
“i—” sunoo stammers, then forces a bright smile again, though it no longer seems genuine. “you know how heeseung and i have lived here for so long. it just... slipped out. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
he’s deflecting. you can see it in the way he avoids your gaze, in the way his hands fidget nervously at his sides. the confidence that usually defines him is gone, replaced by something much more guarded.
you narrow your eyes, stepping closer to him. “that’s not it, sunoo. you know more than you’re telling me.”
for a moment, sunoo’s cheerful facade cracks completely. his eyes meet yours, and the playfulness drains from his expression. what’s left behind is cold, calculating, and far too knowing for comfort.
“you don’t want to ask questions you aren’t ready to hear the answers to,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a strange weight that sends another shiver down your spine.
before you can respond, he turns away, resuming his work on the cinnamon rolls as though the conversation never happened. the air between you feels thick with unspoken truths, and your mind races with questions you don’t know how to voice.
how does sunoo know things about you that you’ve never shared? and why does it feel like he’s hiding something—something big, something dangerous?
as the silence stretches on, your unease only grows. the cosy warmth of the kitchen now feels suffocating, and every glance sunoo throws your way feels like a veiled warning. you try to focus on the task at hand, but your thoughts keep spiralling, circling back to the same unsettling conclusion:
there’s something very wrong here.
later that evening, as you sit with heeseung by the fire once again, you can’t stop thinking about what sunoo said. you want to ask heeseung, to get some kind of explanation, but you don’t know how to bring it up without sounding paranoid. every time you try to voice your thoughts, the words get caught in your throat.
heeseung notices your distraction, of course. he always does. his dark eyes flicker with concern as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.
“are you alright?” he asks softly, his voice filled with that familiar warmth that always seems to melt your defences.
you force a smile, though it feels brittle. “i’m fine,” you lie, your heart racing.
but as heeseung leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, you can’t shake the feeling that everything is slipping out of your control. the mansion, sunoo, heeseung—it’s all starting to unravel, and you’re not sure if you’re prepared for what you’ll find once the proper truth comes to light.
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the storm that had raged outside the mansion for what felt like days finally breaks, leaving the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the last drops of rain dripping off the eaves. the sky is clear now, a pale blue that feels far too serene after the eerie chaos of the past few days. you should be relieved, ready to leave this strange place and return to the life you know, but there’s a tension clinging to you that refuses to dissipate.
your parents, already packing up in their room, seem eager to get back on the road. they’ve been talking about the upcoming week—about how you need to prepare for your university exchange program and the final stretch of family time before you go. you should feel the same urgency, the same excitement to return to normalcy, but something keeps you rooted in place, lingering in the mansion’s dim corridors.
and then there’s heeseung.
he’s been quieter than usual since the storm ended, his smiles fewer and his demeanour darker, but every time you try to bring it up, he brushes it off. it’s like he’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment to say whatever’s been brewing behind his careful mask.
that moment comes after dinner, when your parents step outside to check on the car. you find yourself alone with heeseung in his room, the fire casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. the atmosphere is heavy, thick with unspoken words. you glance at him, and something in his expression—a tightness around his eyes, a tension in his jaw—makes your pulse quicken.
“heeseung…” you begin, your voice tentative. “we’re leaving soon. i have to get back in time for the program.”
at your words, something shifts in him, subtle but palpable. his dark eyes lock onto yours, and the pleasant facade he’s been wearing all this time cracks, just slightly. the smile that curls his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.
“you’re really going to leave me?” his voice is soft, almost too soft, and yet there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach churn.
you take a step towards him, trying to explain. “i have to go. the program—it’s important, and i can’t just stay here.”
heeseung’s expression darkens, and he takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you. “what’s more important? some exchange program or me?”
the question catches you off guard. his voice is low, laced with something that sounds like hurt, but there’s a simmering anger beneath it that makes you nervous.
“i… it’s not like that,” you stammer, trying to find the right words. “i’ve worked so hard for this, heeseung. it’s a big opportunity. you understand, don’t you?”
but he’s not listening. heeseung’s jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow as he steps closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “no, i don’t understand,” he snaps, his voice rising with barely contained fury. “you can’t just leave! after everything we’ve been through—after everything i’ve done for you—you’re just going to walk away?”
your heart pounds in your chest as his words hit you like a physical blow. there’s something wild in his gaze now, something unhinged. heeseung reaches out, grabbing your arm, and his grip is too tight, his fingers digging into your skin.
“you’re not going,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, the fury in his tone barely masked. “you can’t.”
the room feels like it’s closing in on you, the fire’s warmth suddenly stifling. you try to pull away, but heeseung’s grip tightens, his fingers digging deeper into your arm. his face contorts with an emotion you can’t fully name—something between rage and desperation.
“heeseung, you’re hurting me,” you manage to say, your voice shaky as you try to free yourself from his grasp.
at your words, his expression shifts again—this time to something that almost looks like regret, but it’s fleeting, quickly replaced by that same desperate intensity. he loosens his grip, but he doesn’t let go. instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand coming up to cup the side of your face.
“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but there’s still an unsettling edge to it. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just… i can’t lose you.”
his face is inches from yours, and there’s something predatory in the way he looks at you now. before you can react, he leans in, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes you stumble back. the kiss is rough, possessive, not at all like the tender moments you’ve shared before. it’s as if he’s trying to claim you, to make you stay through sheer force of will.
you try to push him away, but he’s too strong, his hands holding you in place. panic flares in your chest, but just as quickly as the kiss began, he pulls back, his face contorted with a mixture of fury and something akin to pleading.
“don’t go,” he whispers, his voice trembling now, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “please… don’t leave me.”
the sudden shift is dizzying. one moment, he was angry—furious, even—and now he’s begging, his voice raw with emotion. heeseung’s hands slide from your face to your shoulders, his fingers trembling as he holds onto you as if you’re his only lifeline.
“i’ve been trapped here for so long,” he says, his voice breaking. “you’re the only good thing that’s happened to me in… i don’t even know how long. i can’t bear the thought of being alone again. not after everything we’ve shared.”
you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of him like this—vulnerable, broken. his eyes are filled with so much pain, so much longing, that it tugs at something deep inside you. despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, a part of you feels drawn to him, feels the weight of his desperation, his need for you.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “but i can’t let you leave. i can’t let you forget about me.”
his words send a chill through you, but they also stir something else—something darker, something that makes you question your own resolve. can you really leave him here, alone, after everything?
“heeseung,” you begin, your voice shaky, “i don’t want to hurt you either, but i have to go back. my life… i can’t just abandon it.”
his expression hardens for a moment, and for a terrifying second, you think his anger will return, but instead, he collapses against you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. his body trembles, and you feel the wetness of his tears soaking into your shirt.
“stay with me,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “please… i need you.”
the weight of his words crashes down on you, and you feel your resolve slipping. heeseung’s vulnerability, his desperation—it’s overwhelming. you can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way your heart aches at the thought of leaving him behind.
maybe it’s the mansion, with its strange, unearthly hold on you, or maybe it’s heeseung himself—the way he’s embedded himself into your heart, into your very being. either way, the thought of leaving him feels unbearable.
slowly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him as he clings to you. “i’ll stay… for now,” you whisper, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them.
heeseung pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of hope and relief. “you will?”
you nod, even as your heart twists with doubt. “just for a little longer.”
the smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost tender, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something darker, something that sends a shiver down your spine.
but for now, you push it aside. you’ll deal with the consequences of your decision later. right now, you just want to believe that you’re doing the right thing, that staying with heeseung is what’s best.
even if, deep down, you know it might be the worst mistake you’ve ever made.
the room is bathed in the soft, flickering light of candles, their flames casting shadows that dance along the walls. the air is thick with the scent of something floral, a heady mix of desire and tension swirling around you as heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, sending shivers through your body. his touch is gentle, worshipping, as if he’s afraid you might disappear at any moment.
it feels almost too perfect—like a dream you’re not quite sure you want to wake up from. his hands are on your skin, warm and possessive, and despite everything, despite the lingering doubts in your mind, you feel yourself giving in. his breath is hot against your collarbone, and your body responds to him, melting into his every touch.
heeseung presses you down onto the soft bed, his movements slow and deliberate. there's an intensity in his gaze, a hunger that’s been simmering under the surface ever since you arrived. his eyes never leave yours, and in the flickering light, there’s something primal in the way he looks at you—something that makes your pulse quicken with both anticipation and a strange sense of foreboding.
“i’ve waited so long for this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as his fingers trace the curve of your waist, his lips hovering just above yours. “you have no idea how long…”
his words make your heart stutter, but you push the uneasy feeling aside. this moment feels too intimate, too charged to ruin with questions. you close your eyes as he leans in, kissing you deeply, and for a moment, all your doubts dissolve in the heat of the moment.
heeseung’s hands move with purpose, his touch both tender and possessive, and soon you find yourself swept away by the passion between you. it feels like time has stopped, like the mansion itself has paused its strange, shifting nature to let you have this moment together. his body presses against yours, and the world outside the room seems to blur into nothingness.
as the intensity builds, heeseung’s breath grows heavier, and so does the atmosphere around you. his whispered words become more erratic, laced with a strange urgency. he murmurs your name like a prayer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in low, fervent tones. you try to hold on to the heat between you, to the passion, but there’s something unsettling underneath it all. something you can’t quite put your finger on. the way he touches you—so familiar, like he’s done this before. like you’ve done this before.
as the moment deepens, you’re both lost in each other, but then, somewhere between the whispers and the heat of his skin against yours, heeseung says something that makes your heart stutter.
“you know he was never good enough for you.”
his words are laced with a bitterness that cuts through the intimacy like a knife. your body tenses beneath him, but you don’t fully register the meaning of his words right away. who is he talking about? the thought flashes through your mind, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sensation of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
still, the words echo, growing louder with each passing second. he? who is he talking about?
your mind begins to wander, to places you’ve been trying to avoid. somewhere deep inside, there’s a flicker of recognition. the inkling of a past lover, a shadowy figure whose face you can’t quite remember but whose presence lingers in your mind. it’s as though there’s something—or someone—you’ve forgotten, buried beneath layers of a life you no longer recall.
heeseung’s lips press against your skin again, pulling you back into the moment, but the unease has already taken root. you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. his words—he was never good enough for you—ring in your ears. but who? who could he mean?
you try to push it away, to focus on the present, but there’s a strange shift in the atmosphere now. the way heeseung touches you, the way his voice wraps around your name—it feels less like adoration and more like possession. and the way he said he—the bitterness, the jealousy—it felt too personal, too pointed.
you close your eyes, trying to lose yourself in the heat of his body, but the unease grows, knotting in your chest. you can’t stop thinking about what he said, about who he might be referring to. you don’t remember anyone else—at least, not fully. yet there’s this nagging feeling, like you’re forgetting something important. or someone.
heeseung seems oblivious to your growing discomfort. his hands roam over you with a kind of desperation now, his grip tightening as if he’s afraid to let go. there’s a possessive edge to the way he holds you, a subtle shift in the dynamic that makes your heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with passion.
“you’ve always been mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “from the beginning.”
the words send a chill through you. from the beginning. it’s a simple phrase, but something about the way he says it—like he’s claiming you, like he’s rewriting your past—makes you uneasy. you don’t know why, but those words feel loaded, like they mean more than he’s letting on.
and then, as he kisses you again, his voice drops to a whisper, soft but chilling: “even before… before him.”
your body goes rigid. there it is again—him. the mystery lover you can’t remember. the one who, according to heeseung, wasn’t good enough for you. the one who existed before heeseung.
your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of memories you don’t have. who is he? and why does heeseung sound so bitter, so possessive, when he talks about him?
you don’t ask the questions that are burning inside you. not yet. you’re not sure you’re ready to hear the answers. instead, you let heeseung pull you closer, let him kiss you with that same intensity, but the warmth between you has shifted. there’s something darker in the air now, something unsettling, and no matter how much you try to ignore it, the words before him continue to echo in your mind.
later, when the passion has faded and the room has fallen into silence, you lie beside heeseung, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. heeseung’s arm is draped over your waist, his breathing slow and even as if he’s already drifted off into a peaceful sleep. but you can’t rest. not with the weight of his words hanging over you.
he was never good enough for you.
as you lie there, wrapped in heeseung’s arms, the reality of your situation starts to sink in. the mansion, the strange familiarity, the way heeseung acts as though he’s known you forever—it all feels too real, too deliberate. you want to believe that what you have with him is real, but there’s a part of you, buried deep inside, that knows something isn’t right.
something is missing. something from your past, something—or someone—that heeseung isn’t telling you about.
and the scariest part? you’re not sure if you want to remember.
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the air feels heavy, pressing down on you as you toss and turn in the unfamiliar bed, your mind restless even in sleep. the warmth of heeseung’s presence lingers, but something inside you feels unsettled—his words still echoing in your mind, he was never good enough for you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as you drift deeper into unconsciousness, slipping into the kind of dream that feels far too real.
the room is dark, but something’s wrong—everything feels… different. you sit up slowly, eyes scanning the space. the door that led to the hallway earlier now opens to somewhere else entirely, revealing a long corridor that seems to stretch into nothingness. the walls seem to shift, pulsating like they’re alive, and the low hum of eerie whispers fills the air.
your heart pounds as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. the floor beneath your feet feels colder than it should, like ice seeping through the soles of your skin. your instincts scream at you to stay where you are, but something compels you to move, to explore. you walk toward the mirror on the wall, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
but when you look into it, the reflection staring back at you isn’t your own—or at least, not how you recognize yourself. the figure in the mirror is wearing clothes from another time—a long, flowing dress, intricate lace details that seem ancient, out of place in this modern world. you can’t breathe. the woman in the reflection is you, but not you. she looks like you… but she belongs to another life.
a flicker of movement in the mirror catches your attention, and you turn to see heeseung standing in the doorway, his figure bathed in shadows. but this isn’t the heeseung you’ve come to know. the softness in his expression is gone, replaced with something darker, more sinister. his face is cold, almost expressionless, but his eyes—his eyes gleam with something sharp, dangerous.
“you’re here,” he says, his voice deeper than usual, lacking the warmth you’ve grown used to. he steps into the room, and the air seems to thicken around you. “i was hoping you’d remember sooner.”
“remember?” you whisper, confusion and fear swirling in your chest. “what are you talking about?”
heeseung’s lips curl into a bitter smile. “this place, us… none of it is a coincidence. you think you were just passing through? that the mansion drew you in by some strange force?” he laughs, a low, humourless sound that sends chills down your spine. “i brought you here.”
you take a step back, your mind reeling. “what… what do you mean?”
heeseung tilts his head, studying you like you’re a puzzle he’s waiting for you to solve. “this mansion, this cursed place—it’s ours. we built it together. we ran this hotel together. don’t you remember? you and i… we were supposed to live here, forever. but you chose him.”
a cold weight settles in your stomach. flashes of images invade your mind—distant memories you don’t understand, flickering in and out of focus. heeseung standing beside you, both of you smiling. the mansion was alive back then too, bustling with guests, full of life. but something feels wrong, distorted.
you suddenly feel like you’re suffocating, trapped under the weight of something you’re not sure you want to remember. the walls seem to shift again, the whispers growing louder, more insistent. bloodstains appear on the floor beneath you, as though seeping up from the wood itself.
heeseung’s voice pulls you back. “i loved you,” he says softly, stepping closer. his words should feel comforting, but they don’t. there’s a hunger in them, a possessive edge that makes your skin crawl. “but you were going to marry him… sim jake. you never gave me a chance.”
your heart skips a beat. jake. the name pulls at something deep within you, something you’ve been trying to ignore. memories you can’t quite grasp swirl at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to break free. you shake your head, unable to speak, your throat tight.
“i watched you with him,” heeseung continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “watched as you planned a future that didn’t include me. but i couldn’t let it happen. i couldn’t let him take you away.”
the bloodstains grow darker, spreading across the floor. you take another step back, your breath quickening.
and then it hits you—a flash of memory, so vivid it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. you’re standing in the grand foyer of the mansion, dressed in that same lace gown from the mirror. jake is beside you, holding your hand, and you’re smiling up at him, heart full of love and excitement for the life you’re about to start together.
but then heeseung appears, his expression twisted in anger, betrayal simmering beneath the surface. and beside him is sunoo, his usually cheerful face cold and calculating. you see the way they look at jake, the silent exchange between them. before you can even process what’s happening, sunoo moves like lightning—his hand coming down in a flash of steel.
blood.
you gasp, your body trembling as you relive the moment. jake’s body crumpling to the ground, lifeless. your scream echoing through the halls, terror and grief crashing into you like a tidal wave.
in the dream—or is it a memory?—you turn, locking eyes with heeseung. you see it in his face, the mix of guilt and satisfaction. he’s done it. he’s made sure jake will never have you. but you… you’re not supposed to be there. you weren’t supposed to see it.
heeseung’s lips part as if to speak, but before he can, sunoo moves again. you don’t feel the blade; you just see your own blood spilling onto the floor, mixing with jake’s. heeseung’s yell is heard in the background and then… darkness.
the memory snaps you back to the present with a force that makes you stumble, your hands clutching the edge of the bed as you struggle to breathe. your heart is pounding in your ears, and your vision blurs with tears as the reality of it all sinks in.
you stare at him, your mind reeling. “sunoo killed me…” the words barely escape your lips, your voice trembling. “you… you both… killed us.”
heeseung’s expression hardens. “it was never supposed to end like that. but sunoo—he was afraid. afraid you’d ruin everything. so he—”
“he killed me,” you repeat, the weight of the revelation crashing down on you. “because of you.”
“because i loved you,” heeseung snaps, his voice sharp, eyes blazing with fury. “because i couldn’t stand the thought of you being with him. you were supposed to be mine!”
the room begins to shift, the walls closing in around you, the whispers rising to a deafening roar. you see it all now—how the mansion is tied to you, how it’s always been tied to you. it’s not just a place; it’s a prison. a prison where heeseung, sunoo, and you have been trapped for eternity, bound by the violence and betrayal that happened within its walls.
and heeseung… he’s not the victim he claimed to be. he’s the one who set all of this into motion, the mastermind behind the lies, the manipulation. he brought you back here, trapped you in this cycle, because he refuses to let go. he refuses to let you go.
“you can’t leave,” he whispers, stepping closer, his voice soft but laced with something sinister. “not now. not ever.”
your body trembles, fear twisting in your gut. the mansion—the distorted laughter, the bloodstains that won’t fade, the sensation of being watched—it’s all his doing. all part of his twisted game to keep you here, with him, forever.
but now, you remember. and you know the truth.
you wake up suddenly, your breath catching in your throat. the room is filled with the steady sound of heeseung’s breathing, soft and rhythmic as he sleeps beside you, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. but there’s no peace in it for you. your heart races, your mind tangled in a web of fear and confusion after what you just experienced. the images of the dream—or was it a memory?—flash through your mind. heeseung and sunoo killing jake. your own death. the truth about the mansion. it all feels too real, too vivid.
you glance at heeseung's sleeping form. his face is peaceful, innocent even, as if none of the horrors you've just seen could possibly be tied to him. but you know better now. his charm, his warmth, it’s all a mask—a cruel lie.
carefully, you slide out of bed, every movement deliberate, trying not to make a sound. you hold your breath as you tiptoe across the floor, your hands trembling. you don’t dare look back at him, too terrified that he might wake up and catch you. you know that if you stay here any longer, you’ll be trapped forever, just like in your dream. or worse—your nightmare.
you slip out of the room, heart pounding in your ears as you make your way down the dark hallway toward your parents' room. the walls seem to loom larger in the dim light, shadows flickering at the edges of your vision. the mansion feels like it’s alive, watching your every step, waiting for you to fail.
when you reach their door, you knock softly, trying not to panic. “mom, dad,” you whisper urgently. “we need to leave. please, wake up.”
after a moment, your mother opens the door, her face groggy with sleep. "what's going on?" she asks, rubbing her eyes.
"we need to leave," you repeat, your voice shaking. "something's wrong with this place. please, trust me. we have to go now."
your father stirs awake as well, frowning. "leave? in the middle of the night? what's gotten into you?"
"please," you beg, "i can't explain it right now, but we have to go. meet me outside, okay? just pack your things and meet me at the gates."
they exchange concerned glances but for once, sensing the urgency in your voice, they nod and begin to gather their things. relief washes over you for a brief moment as you make your way down the stairs, moving swiftly toward the mansion’s grand entrance. you're almost there, just a few more steps.
but as you reach the towering iron gates, you’re suddenly pulled back and pinned against the wall. you’re not surprised to see heeseung looming above you, with the most furious look you’ve ever seen on him.
“where do you think you’re going, my love?”, he spits out venomously.
you try to push him away, but to no avail he just grabs both your wrists, pinning them to your chest.
“you lied to me about all of this”, you look at him with betrayal, “you’re nothing but a manipulative liar. you killed us!”
heeseung seems to freeze at that, a look of realisation crossing over his face. he lets out a chuckle in disbelief, staring at you with a dark look.
“you found out then huh. but, you don’t know the full truth, do you?”
you furrow your brows in confusion at that. what was he talking about now?
he smirks at that, letting go of your hands now. “you’ve left me no choice y/n. you did this to yourself.”
with that ominous declaration, he brings his hand up to your forehead. a series of images rapidly flash in front of your eyes, and you immediately blackout.
you’re back in the dream again, but this time it’s different. you see yourself—your past self—walking through the halls of the mansion. the air is warm, the sunlight streaming through the large windows, and everything feels… peaceful. you look younger, happier, laughing at something heeseung said. he’s beside you, his arm brushing against yours as you both walk through the corridors like you belong there. like this place is yours.
heeseung is smiling at you, but not in the charming, calculated way you’ve come to expect. it’s a genuine smile, filled with warmth and affection. your heart flutters as he leans closer, his voice soft as he speaks. “you always make everything feel right,” he says, eyes shining with something you can’t quite place.
you smile back, a soft blush colouring your cheeks, and it hits you—he loved you then too. but you were too caught up in your engagement to jake to see it.
the scene shifts. you’re sitting together, laughing over something, your hand resting on his arm as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. there’s an intimacy between you that makes your stomach twist with unease. this version of you looks so in love with him. you’re touching him like you belong to him.
but that can’t be right. jake was your fiancé. you were going to marry him.
the memory shifts again, this time darker. heeseung leans in, his hand resting on yours for just a moment too long. “if only things were different,” he murmurs, his gaze heavy with unspoken longing.
your past self looks away, guilt flashing in your eyes. “i can’t leave him,” you whisper, barely audible. “it wouldn’t be good for my family or us. for the business.”
heeseung’s jaw tightens, his fingers brushing over yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “but you want to,” he says softly, the words hanging in the air between you like a dangerous secret.
and you… you don’t deny it.
you wake up with a gasp, your heart racing as you bolt upright. your head throbs where as if you were hit, and the confusion of the dream still lingers like a fog in your mind. you’re back in heeseung’s room. alone. sunlight spills in through the curtains which means..
panic floods your veins. you scramble out of bed, your feet hitting the cold floor as you rush to the door. you can’t stay here. you have to find your parents and leave before it’s too late.
when you reach the foyer, your breath catches in your throat. your parents are there, bags packed, ready to leave. relief crashes over you like a wave, and you run toward them. “mom! dad! let’s go, we have to—”
but then they turn to you, confusion etched on their faces. your mother tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowing. “who… are you?”
the words hit you like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean? i’m your daughter! we need to leave, now!”
your father frowns, glancing at your mother, then back at you. “i think you’re mistaken. we don’t have a daughter.”
your laughter bubbles up, but it’s panicked, forced. “what? no, stop. this isn’t funny. we need to go, we need to leave right now!”
suddenly, you feel an arm snake around your waist, pulling you into a strong hold. you freeze, knowing exactly who it is before you even turn to look. heeseung. his smile is charming, but the coldness in his eyes sends a chill down your spine.
“ah, sweetheart,” he says smoothly, turning to your parents with an amused chuckle. “she likes to play these little pranks sometimes. always such a joker, my wife.”
your parents—no, these strangers—laugh awkwardly, nodding along like everything makes sense. “oh, we see,” your mother—no, not your mother—says with a forced smile. 
your blood runs cold. you twist in heeseung’s grip, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes. “what have you done?”
heeseung’s smile falters slightly, but he feigns hurt, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “what have i done? darling, i think you’re a little confused.”
you struggle against him, but his grip tightens. "mom! dad! please, it's me! it's your daughter! you have to believe me!"
but they just stare at you, their expressions growing more uncomfortable by the second. your father clears his throat, glancing at heeseung. “i think it’s time for us to go.”
heeseung nods, his smile never wavering. “of course. i’m sorry about all this. she’s been under a lot of stress lately. sunoo,” he calls over his shoulder.
sunoo appears from the shadows, his ever-cheerful grin now twisted into something darker, more malicious. he moves toward you, grabbing your arm with surprising strength. “come on now, let’s not make a scene.”
“no!” you scream, thrashing in sunoo’s hold. “please, you have to remember me! i’m your daughter!”
but your parents—these strangers—just exchange awkward glances before turning away. you all watch them leave, sunoo’s arm still securely around your waist, holding you in place.
you break free from his grip, bolting toward the door screaming for your parents, desperate to escape. but as soon as you reach the threshold, you slam into an invisible barrier. the impact knocks the air from your lungs, and you stumble back, disoriented.
heeseung is behind you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your ear. “i told you, didn’t i?” his voice is low, cold. “you’re mine. you’ve always been mine.”
tears stream down your face as you push against the barrier, your hands shaking. “what have you done to me? why are you doing this?”
heeseung’s grip tightens, and he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with a possessive intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “you think you’re innocent in all of this?” his voice is soft, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “you think you didn’t know what was happening? you chose me. you were mine long before jake was ever in the picture.”
you shake your head in disbelief. “no, i didn’t… i didn’t—”
sunoo steps closer, a mocking pout on his lips. “oh, sweetheart, you did. you just didn’t want to admit it.” his finger traces the line of your cheek, and you flinch away from him. “you knew about heeseung’s feelings. you used him. and when jake became a problem, you turned a blind eye to it all. you knew we would kill him.” he sighs, “unfortunately, miscommunication led to your demise and we were eventually hanged. and now our souls are cursed to be bound to this mansion for eternity.”
heeseung’s voice lowers, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you’re just as guilty as i am. and now… you’ll suffer with me. for eternity.”
you stand frozen, your mind reeling from heeseung’s words. the weight of the truth, the accusations, presses down on you like a boulder. memories you didn’t even know you had flicker behind your eyes—of stolen glances, secret touches, a forbidden affair. the you from before, so desperate to keep everything intact—your reputation, your future—had made a choice. a terrible, selfish choice.
“no…” you whisper, backing away from heeseung, shaking your head in denial. “that’s not true. i didn’t—”
“didn’t what?” heeseung cuts you off, his voice sharp and cruel now, all traces of tenderness gone. “didn’t love me? didn’t lead me on while you paraded around with him?” he spits the last word like it’s poison. “you knew exactly what you were doing. you wanted to have it both ways, and when i couldn’t stand it any longer, you let me kill jake because it was easier for you.”
the room spins as his words hit you like a tidal wave. you feel sick, your stomach twisting in knots. but even as the guilt rises in your throat, something inside you resists. “i didn’t… i didn’t want that…” you stammer, but your voice is weak, and the look in heeseung’s eyes tells you that he doesn’t believe you. maybe you don’t even believe yourself.
he steps closer, his eyes dark and filled with anger and betrayal. “you were mine, always mine. but you just had to keep playing your little games, didn’t you? you thought you could control everything. but look where it’s gotten us.”
you stumble backward, hitting the invisible barrier once again. this time it feels like it’s closing in on you, trapping you not just physically but mentally, emotionally. “i didn’t want anyone to die!” you shout, your voice cracking as the tears blur your vision. “i didn’t want this!”
sunoo chuckles softly from the corner, leaning casually against the wall, his expression unreadable. “well, that’s a nice story,” he says, voice light and mocking. “but none of us are getting out of here. not you, not me, not heeseung.” he crosses the room, his eyes gleaming with malice as he moves toward you. “you see, you set all of this in motion. you thought you could control us, control your fate, but now you’ll be trapped here just like us.”
heeseung’s grip on your arm tightens painfully, and you can feel his desperation, his anger, boiling over. “you’re not leaving, no matter how hard you try. this mansion, this curse, it’s our prison. and now it’s yours, too. we’re all in this together, for eternity.”
the word “eternity” sends a fresh wave of panic through your veins. “no!” you scream, thrashing in his grip, desperate to break free. “i won’t stay here! i won’t!”
but heeseung only tightens his hold on you, his face twisted in a mixture of rage and possessiveness. “you will stay,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “you belong to me. you always have.”
sunoo steps beside heeseung, his gaze cold and detached as he watches your struggle. his mocking smile only deepens the pit of dread in your stomach. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?” sunoo says, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “after all, you did help put us in this mess. you turned a blind eye to what heeseung did. and now…” he trails his fingers along your cheek, his touch sending a shiver of fear down your spine. “you’ll pay for that mistake.”
you shake your head wildly, trying to back away, but the barrier prevents any escape. “please, no!” you beg, your voice breaking as you sob. “i didn’t know… i didn’t mean for any of this to happen…”
but heeseung’s grip is unrelenting. he pulls you closer, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction as he watches you unravel. “it doesn’t matter now,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark intent. “your parents don’t remember you anymore and we’re bound together, all of us. the mansion, the curse, it’s our fate. and now it’s yours, too.”
as his words sink in, you feel the weight of your past bearing down on you. the memories, the guilt, the betrayal—it’s all too much. you collapse against the invisible barrier, tears streaming down your face as you realise the full extent of what’s happened. you’re trapped. trapped with heeseung and sunoo in this mansion, cursed to live out eternity in this twisted nightmare.
heeseung kneels down beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a cruel tenderness. “it’s better this way,” he whispers. “now you can’t leave me. you’ll never leave me again.”
you choke back a sob, shaking your head. “i never wanted this… i never wanted to hurt anyone…”
heeseung’s lips curl into a dark smile. “but you did,” he says softly. “and now, you’ll live with that guilt forever.”
sunoo crouches beside heeseung, his gaze filled with mock pity as he watches you break down. “look on the bright side,” he says with a smirk. “at least you won’t be lonely. you’ll have us… forever.”
the finality of their words crashes over you like a wave, and as you look into heeseung’s cold, possessive eyes, you realise there’s no escape. you’re trapped in this mansion, bound to heeseung and sunoo for all eternity, forced to relive the mistakes of your past life in an endless cycle of torment.
with a sinking heart, you realise that heeseung was right all along. you’ve always been his. and now, you’ll never be free.
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starseungs · 2 months ago
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to love you like the snow melts. ksm.
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kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.
GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words
WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk
( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 
That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.
He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.
That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.
Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.
So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.
The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 
It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 
Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.
Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 
Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?
He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 
To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.
“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”
Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.
Right. It was his birthday today.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.
“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?
“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”
Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 
Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.
“I know.” 
Because he always does. 
And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.
“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”
Spring has come.
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MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months ago
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」
Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly
You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?
Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?
Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.
In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be? 
And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…
Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.
You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic. 
ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy. 
Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.
“What’s this?”
You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.
His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.
The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.
“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.
Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.
You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?
You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.
Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley. 
The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?
Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.
They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals. 
When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.
As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.
You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.
If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one. 
The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.
Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?
Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.
Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.
Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this? 
That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”
This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.
“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”
Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.
Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.
“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”
You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins. 
“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”
Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?
“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”
Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.
You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.
The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.
It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:
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Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.
The man.
The man you shot with Mania.
“Welcome to th-,”
You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”
He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?
“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.
“What?”
“Would you like-,” he began.
You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.
A horror. Hell was full of horrors.
He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.
If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.
But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?
He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?
“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.
We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.
“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?
“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.
“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.
“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”
“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”
“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.
“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.
If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.
Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.
He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.
“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.
“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”
“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone. 
“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.
“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.
“Peripherally.”
Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color. 
“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”
Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling. 
He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.
You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.
“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.
A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded. 
He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”
You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.
When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.
It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns? 
Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.
You thought you saw his eye twitch.
With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”
He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.
Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”
When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.
You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.
You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day. 
“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”
As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-
“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.  
“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.
“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front. 
Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.
You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud. 
You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.
After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby. 
“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom. 
“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position. 
Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected.  Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy. 
“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you. 
“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.
“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process. 
The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.
The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort. 
Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell. 
You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there. 
As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.
“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”
Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”
You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did. 
“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming. 
“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.” 
“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”
“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”
A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”
“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered. 
You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?
“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”
A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side. 
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You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby. 
No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom. 
It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.
Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your  pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”
You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.
The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.
The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.
He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.
“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.
“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”
Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.
You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.
A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”
His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.
His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.
“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.
Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.
He took your silence as an answer.
“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.
He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?
“May I help you get dressed?”
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You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.
To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.
You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.
Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.
Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.
But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.
“Good?” 
He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.
A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath. 
“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm. 
You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids. 
“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.
“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”
You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt. 
“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”
“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”
His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.
“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice. 
Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him. 
“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.
“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.
It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”
A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.” 
Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”
“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.
“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”
Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall. 
Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you. 
No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.
The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.
Deja vu.
Oh.
What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not. 
No. Obviously not.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
933 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 10 months ago
Note
can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀
wordcount: 8.4k+
—————
(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year. 
Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.
Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open. 
"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"
He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.
"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside." 
A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal." 
She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to." 
"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you." 
A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in. 
It was sweet—and only a little stupid. 
Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time. 
The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal. 
"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked. 
A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later." 
Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"
"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.
"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day. 
"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account." 
"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather. 
His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair." 
"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand." 
With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest." 
"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him. 
Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips. 
It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.
"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth. 
He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs. 
"Perhaps a little."
—————
"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal." 
Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece. 
(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them. 
This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.
He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him. 
It was his fault, really. 
It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).
She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.
"Are you done yet?"
A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?" 
"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug. 
"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?" 
He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know." 
The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress. 
"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers. 
Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted. 
"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?" 
"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal." 
Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did. 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick." 
"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.
(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead." 
His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with  his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."
A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this. 
"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon. 
It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?" 
The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun." 
It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?" 
Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun." 
The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?" 
"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own. 
"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?" 
A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am." 
"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise." 
A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn. 
"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."
"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself. 
"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you." 
(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.
While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared. 
Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up. 
Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else. 
Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor. 
Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage. 
She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked. 
His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.
Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains. 
Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room. 
There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder. 
"Found you." 
Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.
Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!" 
"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer." 
Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you." 
"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon." 
Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked. 
"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would." 
"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all." 
Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck. 
"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn." 
With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger. 
"Start counting—and no cheating!" 
All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning. 
In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it. 
By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back. 
The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her. 
Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom. 
Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now. 
Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated. 
She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?
A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features. 
"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!" 
Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal." 
"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn." 
Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.
(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again." 
Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now." 
She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?" 
Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?" 
A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then. 
"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first." 
With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder. 
Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips.  "Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!" 
She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught. 
The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by. 
By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.
A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.
He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.
"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss. 
"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind. 
It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps. 
"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest. 
"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win." 
Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.
"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me." 
"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level. 
"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply. 
She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now. 
Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs. 
His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.
Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat. 
"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.
Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away." 
(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.
"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind. 
"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."
Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.
"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?" 
She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.
"Say it." 
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry. 
When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers. 
"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it." 
Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction. 
"I want you to fuck me, Harry." 
His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience. 
"I can do that for you, petal." 
Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles. 
Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape. 
Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?" 
Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above. 
Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock." 
He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.
Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs. 
"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you." 
Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs. 
"This is better, right, puppy?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please." 
His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?" 
The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.
Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips. 
"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like." 
With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace. 
He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him. 
"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?" 
"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him. 
"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips. 
"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. 
"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips. 
Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom. 
"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away. 
"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more. 
Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in. 
Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips. 
"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?" 
"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full." 
A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear. 
"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there. 
The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer. 
Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps. 
He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her. 
Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her. 
"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers. 
"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?" 
Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her. 
"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?" 
He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give. 
"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me." 
"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please." 
"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit." 
One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.
Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat. 
"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out. 
A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.
"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy." 
She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat. 
"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin. 
For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her. 
(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry." 
His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan. 
It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit. 
"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.
He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.
Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her. 
Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his. 
He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose. 
"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine. 
"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"
His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking." 
A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.
Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?" 
"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."
She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."
"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).
"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?" 
(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom. 
She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own. 
—————
first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!
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makeyoumine69 · 1 month ago
Note
Hii,
if it's not to much to ask could you maybe write period sex for a gn reader? Something sweet and comforting T-T
Thank you so much, and I hope you know your writing is amazing!
Shape of You
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader
CW: Smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, period sex, masturbation (reader receiving), body worship, blood kink, sweet dirty talk, pet names, finger sucking, established relationship, needy Patrick.
SONG REC: Fame on Fire—Shape of You (Rock Cover)
WORDS: ~2.5k
LINKS: [Masterlist], [AO3], [Wattpad].
A/N: Hello nonnie! I hope you like this little piece of writing, I enjoyed every second of working on it!💞 For this fic, I used ax divider by @paintology-the-alien
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Starting your period usually sucked, but starting your period at Bateman's apartment felt even worse because you didn't know how he would react if you told him there would be no sex tonight. Would he be angry or even sad? Probably all of that, but the worst part was that the two of you were supposed to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You had wanted to go there for a long time, but Patrick had never been able to find the time. And today, when he finally arranged this "weird date," as he called it, you started having your period and the cramps in your stomach made you curl up on his bed, helplessly clutching a pillow. You didn't even think about how long you'd been lying there, you didn't even have the energy to get up and take some painkillers, all you could think about was how mad and angry Bateman would be when he came home and saw you like this. It was pretty obvious that you wouldn't be able to go out today, not even a chance.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, it became quite dark in the bedroom, the dim light lulling you into a sweet nap that you had been craving all day, considering that in your dream you could finally get some rest from the nagging pain that was making you quite tired.
A soft, almost gentle touch on the top of your head woke you up almost immediately. Blinking in confusion, you looked up to see your lover's beautiful face, and you couldn't really stop yourself from pressing your palm against his cheek. Patrick smiled and let out a sound that was somewhere between a short chuckle and a purr.
"Mmh..." you giggled, watching his plush lips curl at your touch, and tried to pinch his chin, but he caught your hand with ease. "Patty..."
"What's the matter, my sleeping beauty?" He brought your small palm closer, only to leave a light peck on it. "Are you ready for our...little trip into the world of art?"
Rolling your eyes at his feeble attempt to needle you, you sat on your knees, still holding a pillow with your free hand. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it to the museum today."
Bateman stopped for a moment. "What? Why not? Did something happen in my absence?"
"No," you replied curtly, the way he instantly panicked and worried melted your heart. "I just..." you looked down, desperately trying to find the right words to describe your condition. But in the end, it was best to call a spade a spade. "I've started my period, and I've got cramps so fucking severe that I can't even get out of bed."
"Too bad." Was all he said before he leaned down to kiss your forehead, then your cheek and your nose. It was only when he had finished showering your face with little pecks that he finally found your lips and gently pulled you closer, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. The kiss was slow at first, but then evolved into something more demanding as you responded, letting your tongues slide along each other in a lustful dance. "Did you take some pills? Painkillers?"
You shook your head, causing Patrick to tsk in frustration.
"I'll bring you... something then," with that he strolled across the bedroom to disappear around the corner to the bathroom. The man returned in a minute, holding a jar of pills and a bottle of Eveian water. "This is ibuprofen, it'll help."
"Thank you doctor," you chirped and took a pill while Patrick opened a bottle for you, holding it all the way while you drank. "I'm sorry for ruining our plans...I hope you're not mad at me."
Grinning in delight, Patrick brushed the stray curls from your face. "No, I'm not mad at all. Besides, it was you who wanted to go to the museum so badly, so I think of the two of us, you should be the one who's sad that we're not going there."
"Right..."
Slowly, Bateman unbuttoned his jacket and carefully placed it on the bed, where he found your small sketchbook, which he almost immediately picked up with undisguised interest.
"So this is what you were doing while I was at work?" He asked, flipping through the pages and admiring your little sketches. "Mmm...nice anatomy...that looks really nice. Not bad at all."
Slightly embarrassed, you let out an awkward chuckle and turned away, for some reason you didn't want to see him looking through your sketchbook. "Well, thanks for the compliment...I guess?" You wanted to say something else, but instead you could only stifle a groan of pain as another nagging cramp shot through you. "Oh...fuck...I hate it so much."
Seeing you writhing in pain, Bateman closed the sketchbook and put it back on the bed, you didn't even understand what he was about to do, but as he picked you up and carried you bridal style, you hugged his neck and dared to ask a question.
"Where are we going?" 
"To the bathroom," the man replied with radiant confidence, as if he had done it so many times before. But what exactly was he going to do? "A warm bath will help ease your pain, honey. Trust me."
Frowning, you couldn't help thinking that you probably weren't the first partner he'd had who suffered from a painful period, but when you finally entered the bathroom and he put you down on the floor, his hands already working on removing your top and shorts, you forgot about everything. Because the past should be in the past, right?
When Patrick finished undressing you, he quickly turned on the faucet of the bathtub and the water flowed down with a pleasant sound. 
"God, you're so pretty," Bateman murmured suddenly, planting a loving kiss on your shoulder, then bending forward to burrow his nose into your hair; you were glad you'd showered several times already today, because you felt nervous and uncomfortable being intimate with him when your period started. "I think I know more ways to help you with your pain."
There was something playful in his voice, something that made your knees weak and if he did not hold you, you would probably end up splattered on the floor.
"Get in the bath, kitten," he whispered in your ear, his lips teasing the lobe almost imperceptibly. "Want to try some new soaps I got?" Patrick asked, pulling up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt.
You obeyed and took your place in the warm tub, it felt heavenly. "Would you allow me to use them? I can't believe it." 
"Today," the man sat on the edge of the tub and took a washcloth to soak it in water, then he grabbed the freshly purchased L'Occitane liquid soap. "I'll make an exception." The man poured a handful onto the washcloth and began scrubbing your back so gently you didn't even feel it. As his free hand slid down your chest, you gasped, feeling a building tension at your core. "Spread your legs." 
Oh, shit.
You barely held back a curse, but did as he said anyway, feeling completely at his mercy, and of course he liked it, you knew it as the moment you parted your legs his large palm slid between them, pressing a washcloth and gently rubbing your sensitive spot in a circular motion.
"Mmmh," you closed your eyes and leaned against the marble rim of the tub. "That..."
"Feels good?"
"Absolutely," you replied, letting him have better access to your most sensitive places, his fingers busy touching your throbbing flesh as the washcloth was already forgotten. Shaking, you opened your eyes when he grabbed your neck, not roughly, but quite possessively. "You have very interesting ways...to ease the pain?"
Bateman didn't say anything, just smiled and turned you to look up at him. "I want you to look right at me while I work on this little sweet spot of yours," he wrapped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp, but his mouth silenced any sounds you tried to make. "You like it when I take care of you, darling?"
You nodded as desperately as you could as Patrick slid one of his long fingers inside you, curling it just the way you always liked it. "Ahhh…Pat-Patrick…mhmm!"
"Just look at me," he cooed, brushing his lips against yours, ready to drink in your every little moan, adding another finger, causing your inner muscles to cling to his digits like a vine. "Just like that, my little plaything...just like that."
The eye contact, the sweet dirty talk, the way his fingers moved inside of you—it all drove you crazy, you were afraid of splashing the water out of the tub or on his expensive clothes, but as the man pressed your wet body closer to him, you knew you had both already lost your minds, together.
Catching his hand between your thighs, you made him stop for a second, Patrick curled his eyebrows in a silent question, but you used your mouth as the most eloquent answer, kissing him hard on the lips, spurring him to grab your neck even tighter as he was burning from the inside, as if the blood was boiling in his veins. God, he wanted you so fucking bad.
"Come here," you uttered after tugging at his lower lip. "Please..."
Breathing heavily, Bateman released your neck and stood up quickly to remove his tie, shirt, belt, pants... 
He did it so fast that you didn't even notice how he took a place behind you in the tub, it felt like he had been here from the beginning, his hard dick pressed against your ass, throbbing at the contact, but the man was focused on you, even when he noticed the tiny crimson pools of blood in the waster, he managed to fight his urge to fuck you here and now. After all, this was about you, not him. 
Wrapping his strong arms around you again, he explored your body so agonizingly slowly that you were about to scream with need, each touch calculated to set every nerve end in your system on fire. With your heavy lidded eyes you looked back at him, embraced his neck and without saying a word you quickly got up to mount him, making his thick cock draw between your legs, the friction causing his jaw to clench from the tension in his balls.
With a sly grin, you ran a finger along his parted lips, and before you knew it, Bateman had it in his mouth, sucking on it as if his life depended on it, while his hips idly bucked in a most shamelessly suggestive manner.
"Look at you," you whispered, pushing his finger deeper. "I didn't know blood could turn you on like this."
Patrick moaned as you rubbed your crotch against his, you were as close to falling apart as he was, though you tried to regain some control, not really realizing that you were in the lead now only because HE allowed you to be.
With a graceful move, you took his engorged cock to give it a few strokes before aligning it with your entrance to slowly take it in as you lowered your hips onto his.
"A-awww, fuck," you clawed at his shoulders from how full he made you feel, his hands already holding your waist in a tight ring as you bobbed up and then slowly down, savoring every inch of his girth that stretched you so deliciously. "I love you...I love you so f-fucking much."
Throwing his head back, Patrick barely kept himself from exploding inside you, the warmth and tightness of your inner channel making it so fucking hard for him to hold out any longer, but he did his best for you.
"Ohhh, shit, you're... you're so tight-mmmh," Bateman groaned, his hands digging into the skin of your hips as you picked up the pace, literally bouncing on his dick. "I'm...I'm gonna fill you so...fucking...deep!"
Moan after loud moan, water spilling onto the floor from your feverish movements, the obscene sounds of your bodies colliding against each other drowning out all other sounds as for a moment you thought your heart would pop out of your chest. It was beating so fast that you could hear your pulse drumming in your ears.
"Fuck....I'm cumming...Goshhh," you snuggled into his brawny frame, your hands squeezing his buff biceps as you clenched around him, milking his dick so he would follow suit, erupting inside of you, pumping you with the tight ropes of cum. "Patrick..."
You rested your head on his shoulder, he was still shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his muscles slowly relaxing under your touch. Patrick couldn't even say a word, his eyes closed and his face, chest and neck flushed red. You couldn't even find the right words to describe how much you loved seeing him like that, vulnerable as he was coming down from his high. The way he was always blushing during sex was your special kink.
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After a while, the two of you were lying on the bed, wearing designer robes and discussing how you would visit the museum the next weekend. All the while, you were finishing your latest sketch when you suddenly remembered a fresh sketch you finished today. As you flipped through the pages, you landed on Bateman's chest and brushed his wet bangs.
"You know, if you kept leafing through my sketchbook, you would find this," you showed him the sketch of the tall, muscular man with a skipping rope, in which Patrick recognized himself almost immediately, but he remained silent. "What do you think?"
Humming, the man looked at you, then at the sketch, then back at you. "So you're stalking me while I'm working out?"
"What?" You jokingly punched him in the chest. "I... I don't stalk..."
"Well, I don't mind," he cut you off, grabbing the sketchbook out of your hands. "But I think I look a lot better in real life," Bateman pointed at the sketch as if he were an art critic. "You see, my body is much more ripped, and my chest muscles are much more... toned."
You shook your head, on the verge of laughing. "Of course, you are such a work of art yourself. No one can capture you as perfectly as you really are."
For a moment you thought your words might offend him as his face turned serious, his lips tightened into a thin line, but then you both burst out laughing. Ultimately, you didn't need to praise him all the time, because he was perfect just the way he was, and you knew that better than anyone else in the world.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞
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justagirlwholikesadam · 10 months ago
Text
Communication
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Summary: Communication is very important in a relationship. Remus is great at it then you but when you finally decide to talk about something, it backfires.
Warning: SFW, Tonks not getting the hint that Remus is our man, Sirius being the best friend ever, angst, happy ending. Border Credit: @cafekitsune
Word Count: 2.3K
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It’s not like you don't trust your boyfriend because you do, a lot. Remus is a trustworthy guy and he never made you feel that there was a need to worry about your relationship with him. Whenever there were issues, Remus communicated with you. He's a lot better at talking his feelings out than you were. So, when the time comes for you to speak about something that has been bothering you. It just backfires. 
Sirius had come home from Paris and brought his niece, Tonks. Sirius had invited Remus and you for dinner at his place. Arriving at his home, you welcomed Sirius with a hug and asked him all about the trip. About to greet Tonks, she ignored you completely and walked up to Remus who was staring at the new pictures that Sirius had placed on top of the fireplace in the living room. You didn't think of anything at first. Tonks was probably excited to meet her uncle's best friend from school. Remus and Sirius were thick as thieves in school and they still are to this day. 
Sirius calls you into the kitchen before you could see Tonks getting ready to talk to Remus. You didn't see how she tried to hug him. At the same time Remus stretched his hand out to shake her hand, politely. Tonks blushed in embarrassment and shook his hand instead of hugging him. Dinner was lively and wine was being passed around. Sirius told Remus and you about his time in Paris and how his family made fun of him for putting a picture frame of you and Remus on his night stand.
“You guys are my best mates. I missed you guys.” Sirius said with a pout making you laugh. Sirius has always been a bit dramatic, he was only gone for a week. He began to tell Tonks how he met you and the three of them became like The Three Musketeers. 
Since Sirius was back, he invited both of you a lot to come over. For brunch, for lunch and sometimes for dinner. You tried to ignore the stares Tonks gave Remus. You tried to ignore how she grabbed his arm and touched him while he spoke to her. It wasn't until Sirius had a party and you saw Tonks got a little bit too close to him. She had placed her hand on his chest as they spoke. Remus kept talking to her all normal, he was oblivious of what she was doing. 
When you finally told Remus how you were feeling, you weren't expecting this. 
“Tonks? She's just a kid. She means no harm. A little annoying to be honest.” Remus told you as he looked at you. He was in bed already in a pair of boxers and a white tee. He had a book in his hands while he waited for his cup of tea to cool down on the night stand next to him. 
“Okay but it makes me uncomfortable, Remus. I don't like seeing her touch you like that. Maybe you can set some boundaries with her.” You told him as you sat on your side of the bed. 
“Boundaries?” Remus repeats with a chuckle and you ignore the heavy feeling in your chest. 
“There's no need for boundaries, love. There is nothing going on. She’s a child.” He looks back at his book and you don't know what else to say. This was a first, Remus always listened and welcomed your opinion, your problems with open ears and with no judgment. He knows you have difficulty speaking about your feelings.
You spoke and he just disregarded it saying it was nothing. You felt the room getting smaller, the walls closing in on you and it was difficult for you to breathe, so you just mumbled, “Okay.” 
You got up from the bed without another word and walked out. Remus calls out for you asking where you were going. You respond back to him to make tea for yourself. He looks down at his book to continue reading, not noticing the cup of tea already on your night stand. It was the next day when Sirius had invited you for lunch while Remus worked. Hugging Sirius when you met him in the restaurant, he instantly knew something was bothering you. After giving the waiter your order on what to drink, Sirius leans back in his seat and gives you a look. 
“What?” You asked looking back at him. “Problem with Moony?” 
Sirius quickly gets up from his seat and takes the seat next to you when he sees you crying. He wipes your tears from your face and hugs you until you calm down. He nods at the concerned waiter who brings the drinks. Sirius doesn't move away from you, he had even put his arm behind you  as you told him what was bothering you. 
“Fuck, love. I can talk to Tonks-.” You cut him off, shaking your head. 
“No, maybe Remus is right and I’m just - I don't know. Don’t say anything.” You told him as you reached out for your drink. 
“Fine, it doesn't seem like Remus.” Sirius said softly as he watched you take a drink. 
“Maybe, he's just getting tired and bored of me. He wants something new. Someone younger.” You blurted out and Sirius frowned. 
“Hey.” Sirius calls out for you but you don't look at him. You keep staring down at the table. He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You feel the coldness of his silver chunky rings on your skin. 
“Never say that shit again, you hear me?” Sirius tells you seriously. 
“You're the most non-boring person I know.” Sirius' arm went around you and tugged you closer to him. 
“Yeah, ok.” You said making him roll his eyes at you. 
“I’m serious. I wouldn't lie to you. You've been there for me since I had my issues with my family when I was younger.” His thumb caressed your cheek as he spoke. 
“You're amazing and so beautiful. I really mean it. Moony just having an off day." Sirius said leaning over to grab his drink and the menu. He tells you to order whatever you want, it was on him. 
“Thanks for making me feel better and for feeding me. That's the way to my heart.” Sirius smiles and hands you the menu. He didn't leave his seat, he kept sitting next to you. 
---
Remus is surprised when he sees Tonks outside his apartment. He was coming back from work while looking at his phone. He has been texting you all day. He was worried since you haven't responded back. 
“Tonks, hey.” Remus said, grabbing his keys from his back pocket of his jeans. 
“Hey, Moony.” Remus tries to match her smile but he can’t. The nickname, Moony was something only Sirius and you called him. 
“How did you find out where I live?” Remus asked her. He noticed she was holding a plate in her hands. 
“Remember, I was there when Sirius dropped you and that girl off.” She said, smiling  at him. 
That girl. He didn’t like how she said that. 
“My girlfriend, you mean.” He says your name. Tonks doesn’t even correct herself. 
“I came to bring you cookies. As a thank you, you know you've been so nice to me. I don’t have lots of friends since I just came here.” Tonks said, handing him the plate wrapped in foil. 
“Thank you, Tonks.” He looks down at the plate and looks up at her. Remus doesn’t want to offend her and ask her to leave but she’s Sirius’ niece. 
“Want to come in for a cup of - ?” She answered him right away before he could finish his question
Remus opens the door and allows her to go inside. He turns the lights on and walks to the kitchen with Tonks behind him. He places the plate on the counter and goes to turn on the kettle. Remus checks his phone once more to see if you had texted him back, his shoulders slumps down. You haven't. He tried to think back about yesterday as he grabbed cups from the cabinets. He had fallen asleep first after speaking with you. He woke up and you had already left the apartment. You had left him a note saying you were going out. He sighs as he places the cups on the counter. He turns around and lets out a yelp when he notices Tonks is standing behind him. 
“Shit! You scared me.” Remus said, placing a hand on his chest and gave her an awkward laugh. 
“You’re so funny.” He frowns at her. He wasn’t trying to be funny.
“You know, I think you’re really cute. I was wondering if we should get together. Have some fun.” Tonks tells him as she touches his hand, grabbing it and placing it over her breast. 
Remus shook his head and ripped his hand from her grasp. 
“What the fu- Tonks! No! No!” He begins to shout at her as he walks away from her. Tonks follows him and he points his finger at her. 
“STOP!” She does and stares at him shocked. 
“Excuse me, I have been giving signals every time I see you and plus you let me touch you.” She told him and it hits him like a ton of bricks the moment she said that. 
You told him about this last night and he just disregarded it like it was nothing. You had told him about the touching and how you felt uncomfortable. He feels like a shitty person now. He walks back when Tonks tries to grab his arm again. Remus lets out a sigh and runs his hand through his hair before placing his hands on his hips. 
“I have a girlfriend, Tonks. I love her so much. She’s the only girl for me and she’s the only girl I love. I tried to be nice but I see how you mistook my kindness as me being interested in you. I’m not interested in you. I will never be interested in you like that. We can still be friends but I need to set up some boundaries. Do not touch me like that anymore, only my girlfriend can touch me.” Remus told her and the kettle started to blow. 
Without waiting for her response. He passed her and turned off the stove. He looked over his shoulder at her and noticed the look on her face. 
“I really don't think you love her. Why would you let me be so close to you if you did love her?” Tonk asked and Remus just stared at her. 
“I thought it was just being friends. Sirius and her, we are all like that.” Remus tells her. Tonks cross her arms over her chest. 
“So if you see her touching Sirius’ chest and his arm. Laughing at him closely you wouldn't think anything of it.” 
“No, because I trust her. I trust him.” Remus said.  “I think you should leave, Tonks.” 
She doesn't say another word and walks out. The door closes with a bang and Remus lets out a sigh of relief. She left without making any trouble. He looks over at the plate on the counter and just throws it in the trash bin, plate and all. 
Grabbing his phone, he decides to call you. He needs to make it right, he hated himself for doing that to you. 
He smiles when the call picks up. “Hey Moony.” His smile dropped when it was Sirius’ voice. 
“Hey, Pad. Is my girl with you?” Remus asked.
 “Yeah, we were having lunch. Almost leaving, she just went to the loo. Everything okay, mate?” Sirius asks through the phone.
 “Yeah. Yeah, I'm just an idiot.” He answers his friend. 
“The biggest.” Sirius adds and Remus frowns. Of course, you told Sirius. He couldn't be mad at you after all. 
“She’ll be home soon. I’ll take her home so you guys can talk.” 
“Thanks, Pads.” Remus said as he dropped the call. Remus waits for you, he’s sitting on the couch when he hears the front door open. 
“Hey.” Remus said, standing up and walking towards you. 
“Hey.” You answer back as you take your coat off, hanging your bag on the hook by the door. 
“I have a huge headache, sorry I didn't answer your text. I'm going to take a nap.” You tell him, taking your shoes off then walking past him. Remus bites the inside of his cheek when you pass him without greeting him with a kiss or a hug like you always do. 
He follows you into the bedroom and you sit down on your side of the bed. Remus knows, you're trying to keep your feelings bottled up, this is what you do and it was his fault. He calls your name softly by the door and he quickly walks to you when he sees your teary eyes. 
He doesn't hesitate to kneel down in front of you so he can look up at you. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m sorry for disregarding your feelings like that. I was stupid. I didn't see it before but I do now.” 
He feels defeated when you shake your head. “It’s okay.” 
“No! It’s not okay! I shouldn't have done that.” Remus said firmly cupping your face. 
“I told Tonks about it. I set boundaries with her and told her she can’t touch me like that anymore. Fuck, I’m really sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize at first and I'm sorry for just ignoring it when you tried to speak to me about it.” Remus feels your arms wrap around his shoulders. He closes in with a hug. He hugs you while kissing the side of your face. 
“I feel so dumb now. I was telling Sirius, you probably don't want me anymore. You want someone younger..” Remus cuts you off, he doesn't believe what he’s hearing. 
He says your name. “I would never want someone else. I want you. I’ll always want you.” 
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atlasscrumpit · 2 months ago
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Hi,
could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where the captive reader tries to distract Yandere Hannibal from killing one of her friends by kissing him?What happens to the reader,Hannibal and the friend is up to you
Yandere Hannibal
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After six months, Hannibal was finally letting you out.
Maybe it was just to get some groceries but it was the first time you'd left the house since you for here.
"Do not leave my sight, and you will always be beside me and do as I say. Do you understand, my dear?" Hannibal asked as you stood in front of him and nodded.
"Yes, I understand." You replied with excitement in your voice.
"Good girl."
--
You followed Hannibal around the store...the store you'd driven two hours to get to.
Hannibal wanted to be extra careful and get you away from anyone who might know you.
The grocery trip went off without a hitch, Hannibal had even let you pick out some food for yourself.
You held his hand and walked out when you suddenly froze and stared at a familar face.
"Y/N...?" The woman whispered as you gripped Hannibal's hand tighter.
"We all...we all thought you were missing." She whispered as you slowly turned to look at Hannibal, you could see it in his eyes, she would be dinner tonight.
"N-Nope! Not missing, just met someone and I guess um...started a new life." You tried to explain, yob weren't great at lying, you never were.
"And who is this?" She asked, glancing at Hannibal.
"My name is Jack, an old friend of Y/N. We reunited after a few years and decided to take it further, she's living with me. I assure you she's well taken care of." Hannibal stepped in for you.
Your friend smiled but you could see she wasn't convinced.
She moved forward and hugged you tightly.
"Well... The police did tell us you were somewhere safe but...I didn't believe it. I just wish you would've told us, we've all been worried sick." She said pulling away from the hug.
"I know, I'm sorry. I should've told everyone, I just had a lot going on and I guess I ran away." You muttered as she nodded.
"Give me a call, okay?" She said as you nodded before getting into the car.
You sat in silence on the drive, staring at the road.
"She's going to be an issue." He grumbled as you played with the hem of your shirt.
"N-No... She won't be. We can just text her every now and then and keep up the charade. Please, don't do this." You whispered, turning to look at Hannibal.
He reached over and placed his hand on your thigh.
"That won't be good enough, my dear."
--
You sat at home with Hannibal, he told you he needed to ‘go out’, but you knew exactly what he was doing. 
Just before he left the house you grabbed his hand and pulled him back. 
“Please, don’t do this… We can figure this out but if you do this I will never forgive you.” You whispered as he stared into your eyes, you could never read his emotions.
“I must.” He muttered about to leave before you grabbed him and pulled him into a passionate kiss. 
He grabbed your waist and quickly dominated the kiss. 
You leant away, trying to catch your breath. 
“Stay, just stay here and we’ll figure this out.” You begged before kissing him again. 
He leant down and began kissing your neck, you knew how long he had waited for this. 
“Fine, my dear. But, you’re going to make it up to me, aren’t you?” He whispered into your ear as you nodded. 
“Yes, of course I will.”
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satyrtransforms · 10 months ago
Text
Stank Prank
BRAAAAAP
“Whoooooo! That was a BIG ONE!”
I cringed and plugged my nose as I leaned over my paper. Brayden was at it again. He had brought his nasty friends over and was having a farting contest with them. I didn’t understand why he had to be my roommate. Why couldn't he be staying at one of the nasty frat houses or with his other jock friends? Why did I have to be the one who was forced to listen (and smell) an orchestra of farts and burps while I studied. I tried talking to the housing department about it, begging for a different roommate. I would have taken literally anybody else, but they said that there was nothing they could do. I was stuck with him. 
Ever since the day I first moved into the dorm, I had been subjected to the tortures of Brayden’s flatulence. Over time I had gotten mostly accustomed to the smell (a bucket full of air fresheners helped to keep my room mostly stench free), the sound is something I could never get used to.
BUUURRRPP
“Man that was NASTY!”
Even with my door closed, earbuds in, and focusing on studying, I couldn’t escape it. Enough was enough, I slammed open the door and stared angrily at the trio of jocks sitting on the couch and laughing their asses off.
“Look who finally came out to join us!” Brayden stood up, his massive 6’4 figure towering over me. “The nerd emerges from his cave.”
“Would it really kill you to put on some deodorant? Or maybe a visit to the doctor would be more beneficial, all of that farting and burping can’t possibly be normal.”
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“You’re disgusting.” I said bitterly, “But then again I’m not surprised, I wouldn’t expect anyone other than a group of dumb, hairy animals to smell the part.” Brayden’s two friends snickered and made overexaggerated gasping sounds. I allowed myself a bit of a smirk, maybe this’ll put that jock into his place. 
Brayden seemed unfazed by my insults. “You know, I really wish you were more like us, man. You’d be really fun to have around. Plus, you look like you could pull off some NASTY shit.” “I’d rather do anything then regress to your level.” I huffed and slammed my door shut, muffling the sounds of their laughter. 
The next evening I came back to the dorm to find the place abandoned, no sign of Brayden or his dumb friends. I sighed, finally I would be able to be alone and get some studying done in peace and quiet. I closed my bedroom door and set down my stuff. Better get started before-
BRAAAAAP
I jumped out of my seat, was that me, or was that Brayden announcing his entrance? Further inspection revealed that there was nobody at the front door, which had to mean… Before I could even begin to imagine how Brayden would have reacted if he could have heard that, I spotted something red on the chair. I walked over and picked it up, a whoopie cushion.
“Verrrrry funny, Brayden.” I said aloud. “But if you think that-” I was interrupted as a pungent smell assaulted my nostrils. The whoopie cushion, there’s no way it could have created a smell right? I squeezed it again.
BRAAAAAP
Yup, it was definitely the whoopie cushion. But how was that even possible? And how did it smell that bad? I put the whoopie cushion down on the floor. There was probably some kind of fake fart spray coating the thing. Now, back to work, I really didn’t want to waste any more quiet time before-
BUUURRRPP
“Little bro I’m back!”
Fuck.
I started walking towards the door, exams were coming up and I really needed to study so I was prepared to BEG for some silence. As I made my way across the room, I tripped over the whoopie cushion
BRAAAAAP“Whoa little bro, that was a nasty one!”
The smell tripled in intensity, as I tried to get back up to open a window, my legs gave out and I fell back down onto the cushion.
BRAAAAAP
My eyes began to water. Every inhale of the pungent stink was making me feel lightheaded. After some struggling, I managed to stand up, I felt woozy, like I had inhaled laughing gas. It was getting harder to think, so hard, why think at all? I blinked. What was I SAYING? I tried to hold my breath as I opened the door, but found myself breathing heavily as the fumes coursed through my body. I flung open the door and stumbled into- my bathroom? Wasn’t I trying to leave my room? I’m so stupid I must have gone to the wrong door by mistake, heh. What the fuck was happening? As I tried to collect my thoughts, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked… good. My arms and chest appeared bigger and more toned and I felt taller. It must the the smell making me see things there’s no way-
BRAAAAAP
That one came from me. 
BRAAAAAP
That one too. 
With each fart, I found myself getting taller, more muscular and toned. My pale computer nerd body melted away into a sporty physique. 
“Come on little bro don’t you understand? You’re no fun, so I have to make you fun. I can’t believe that whoopie cushion actually worked! But the rest is up to me now. Did you know you REEK?”
I sniffed my armpits, they smelled awful. I began searching through the cupboards for some deodorant.
“Not that you care anyways.”
BRAAAAAP
That's right, I didn’t care. I loved my smell, I lived in it. Why would I want to get rid of it?
“You love being a stinky, smelly jock”
BRAAAAAP
“A dumb, stinky, smelly jock”
BRAAAAAP
“A stupid, dumb, stinky, smelly jock.” BRAAAAAP
With each inhale I found myself agreeing with Brayden. With each fart I found my old self laving. 
BRAAAAAP
BRAAAAAP
BRAAAAAP I was always a dumb, smelly jock.
I loved being a dumb smelly jock.
I began to take off my clothes.
Being dumb is so nice, no worries, no cares.
It feels so good to reek and smell like a man.
Each time Brayden repeated it, I found myself sinking deeper. My mind completely clouded over.
So dumb, so smelly.
I walked over to the couch and lay back on it, lifting my pits to let my smell permeate the room. 
“Isn’t that so much better?” Brayden asked, “It feels so good to be stupid and smelly, just like us.”
BRAAAAAP
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ashwhowrites · 3 months ago
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Hello, I'm so glad that your requests are open. Could you do steve harrington x reader, where in high school the reader was a nerd but they fall in love. But prom was coming up and he ditches the reader so he could win prom king, which he regrets.
some angst to fluff pls!!! happy ending
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 very hard to give this a happy ending so I did my best
Prom King
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Steve Harrington was the face of Hawkins High School. He was the guy every guy wanted to be and the guy every girl wanted to be with. He had a huge selection of girls to pick from. He always pictured himself with another popular girl on his arm, adding to his popularity. Someone he could win the prom king with, someone who made sense.
But that didn't happen. He fell in love, fucking hard, with the quiet nerd in his English class. She was the first girl to make him forget how to speak. The first time he ever made eye contact with her, he tripped over his feet and landed flat on his face. No one dared to laugh since he was the king, but she helped him stand back up.
He swore when her hand touched him a whole lightning bolt lit him up where he stood.
Months later, they were together. A couple that no one expected and no one knew how it worked. But Y/N had something special he never had seen in any other girl before. They've been together for months, meeting at the start of the year and now it was near May.
Prom was coming around the corner, just a few weeks away. Y/N was growing a bit nervous that Steve hadn't talked about prom at all. They were together, so that meant they would go together, right? She watched daily as girls screamed and cried as their boyfriends asked them to prom. She wondered when it would be her turn. She knew it wouldn't be in a public place, Steve had been shying away. They barely interacted at school recently, but she had all of him once they were behind closed doors. Of course, blinded by love, she didn't see that as a warning.
~
Prom was in a week and Steve had avoided every conversation about it. It was clear to her that something was holding him back from asking, and she was sure the answer was going to damage their relationship.
"Alright, Steve. We need to talk about prom. And we are talking about it now." She demanded as she took a seat next to him on his couch.
Steve felt sweat on his eyebrow. He had been scared of this conversation.
"Why won't you ask me to prom?" It was clear to hear how sad she was and Steve felt horrible.
"It's just...I don't want to go to prom," he lied through his teeth and hoped she bought it.
"Oh, like with me?" she asked, he frowned as her eyes began to water.
"Not like that, baby. Just prom in general. I was never a fan of school dances." Steve shrugged, he watched as she started to believe him.
"Well I mean if it's not something you like, I guess I have to understand that." She sighed, very disappointed. "What if we do something else? Like, have a movie night at my house?"
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he said, smiling as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
~~~
It was the night of prom, and Y/N was setting up snacks for movie night. She felt sad as she helped her friends get ready, but she was okay to give it up for Steve.
She set up the movie and looked at the clock, Steve was running a few minutes late. She walked to the phone as it began to ring,
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby. I'm not feeling so hot. I think I might rest at home. I'm sorry, but maybe we can do a raincheck?" Steve's tired voice filled her ears.
"Oh no! I can come over and bring you some soup and juice," she said, already planning to run to the store as she grabbed her keys.
"I don't want to get you sick. I'll be fine, baby. I love you,"
Then he hung up. She couldn't lie she felt blown off by him. It was weird for him to be pushing her away. He never missed movie night and never had issues with her helping him when he was sick. She found it very strange but pushed it off.
She didn't want to spend the night alone, so she raced to her bedroom. Her dress waiting to be worn in her closet as she yanked it off the hanger. She felt a little sad when she gave up prom for Steve, but she smiled at the thought of going with her friends.
She got ready as fast as she could and went to the school. Excitement in her stomach as she walked into the gymnasium. The lights and the sound of the loud music mixing with people laughing made her happy. She wished Steve could have been here but her friends would make it memorable.
She reached her friends with an excited scream, her arms wrapped around them as they cheered for her arrival. She gave a twirl in her dress, her friends gushing over how perfect she looked. They were lost in conversation when the teacher on stage called for an announcement.
"It is now time we declare the winners for prom king and queen!"
The students quieted down, their attention to the stage as the teacher tore open the envelope. The students smacked their thighs as a drumroll.
"Your Prom king is..Steve Harrington!" The crowd cheered and clapped. Y/N felt proud of him, and sad that he wasn't here to accept it. As his girlfriend, she felt like it was her place to accept it for him.
She pushed gently through the crowd, keeping her eyes on the floor to make sure she didn't step on anyone's shoes. She reached the front, and looked up.
She froze when she saw Steve walk onto the stage, a big smile on his face and no sickness in his eyes. He looked smug and cocky as he bent down for the crown to be placed on his head. He wore a perfect suit, his hair gelled down and brand new shoes. He didn't just throw this together, he was already prepared.
The realization that he lied made Y/N feel sick.
Steve looked out into the crowd, smiling at all the students who clapped and cheered for him. And then his eyes fell on her and his face went pale.
She shook her head and turned out, pushing through the crowd of students as fast as she could. Steve was quick to jump off the stage and follow after her.
Once she felt the cold hair hit her face, the tears began to fall. She opened her small bag and began to dig for her keys.
"Y/N!" Steve said, panting as he busted through the doors. He was relieved she was still there. He reached forward and grabbed her elbow but she yanked it away.
"Don't, Steve," she hissed, turning around as she glared at him. "What the fuck was that?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Steve apologized.
"Really? Because I don't think you give a single shit about me to mean an apology." She scoffed
"I do! I just..I-I" he stuttered, he didn't know what to say and he knew every second he waited, more damage was done.
"Just tell me why!" She exclaimed, shoving him as hard as she could. He stumbled back, his crown slightly moving on his head as he gained balance. "And no bullshit lies. Tell me the truth."
Steve sighed, regret-filled in his bones. "My friends told me I wouldn't win the prom king if I was with you. I didn't want to break up because I love you! I swear I do. I-I was an idiot and told them we broke up. I kept my distance from you in public so they wouldn't know I lied. Then I lied and said I was sick so you wouldn't come. You have to believe me, I'm so sorry."
"You're sorry you got caught!" She argued. Every word he said made her feel like nothing and had her second-guessing every part of their relationship.
"You knew I wasn't popular and you knew that wouldn't change. Yet, you let me fall in love with you? You let me think I meant something and meant more to you than your stupid King Steve image. I don't believe you're sorry, I mean look at you!" She scoffed, "perfect suit and that damn crown on your head. This is what you wanted, you chose that crown over me. You're selfish and scum. But congratulations Steve, you're the prom king, I hope that helps you sleep at night" She spat. She gave him one last glare and broken look, then she turned around and walked to her car.
Steve felt his eyes water as he watched her walk away. The crown on his head felt like it was digging into his skull. He yanked it off his head and stared at the shiny material.
Why was this more important than her?
~~~
Y/N needed a lot of space from Steve, she needed her head clear so she could move on. It was clear Steve was embarrassed by her and his status would remain most important. She didn't deserve to be second place to anything, and especially a stupid high school nickname.
She thought Steve was more mature and grown up, but she was wrong. She got played by a boy and she hated it. She also hated how much she missed him. She missed playing with his hair as the TV played, singing in his car on the way home, and kissing his lips.
But they were broken up and she needed the reminder.
Steve gave her the space she wanted. He made sure to use that time to figure out how he was going to make it up to her. He feels stupid and embarrassed he let himself get sucked into a stupid high school moment. It was one moment in his whole life, something he wouldn't care about once he graduated. But Y/N was someone he would care about his whole life, and he fucked it up.
It had been a long week but Steve finally made his way to her house. He knocked on her window, smiling softly when her face came into view. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.
"What?"
"Can we talk? I brought your favorite!" He said with a big grin, pulling out a bag of her favorite candy from his back pocket.
"This doesn't help your case," she said and snatched the bag of candy. She moved over and allowed him to come inside.
"I wish I had some really good explanation for what I did, something that could make you feel better. But I don't. There is no explanation for hiding you just to win something so stupid. I know I never should have thought for a second the crown was more important, and I made the mistake of realizing that too late, I'm sorry" he said.
She sat quietly as she listened to his words. She felt torn because she loved him but was just so mad at him.
"I'm sorry for listening to my stupid friends. I'm sorry I didn't tell them how in love with you I am. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. I don't deserve another chance, I know that. But is there anything I can do to fix us?"
"Steve, do you understand that you were embarrassed by me? Do you know how that made me feel? It broke my heart. I don't know what to do to fix it, and I don't know if I want to fix us."
Steve gulped as he looked at her. "You want to stay broken up?" He choked out
"I don't know," Y/N shrugged, "I don't want to be loved in only private. I think I deserve to be loved the way I love you. If I forgive you and we stay together, did you learn the lesson? Do you deserve to suffer without me? I'm split in the middle." She sighed, moving to sit on her bed.
Steve walked in front of her and dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on her thighs and looked up at her.
"You do deserve that, and you always did. I know I can be better and love you. I don't want you to deserve better with someone else, I want to be better for you. I want to give you what you need. I learned my lesson the second I saw your face," he spoke softly as he moved his hand up to her cheek. "Can you make me suffer while we try to make it work?"
"I don't forgive you yet, but I'm willing to see if we can work," she said, melting into his hand
"Thank you," he said, moving in to wrap her in a tight hug
She wasn't sure what the future had in store for them, but she loved him enough to find out
248 notes · View notes
bweeeb · 5 months ago
Text
HATED
Theodore Nott x reader ( Whispered as last name )
Enemies to lovers
Notes: When I wrote this, I didn't realize how dirty it was, I apologize for the shitty writing.
Summary: When the new girl causes Slytherin to lose the House Cup, Theo becomes much more interested in getting her attention—even after acting like a jerk. But maybe with Voldemort's return, it might be too late to make something last.
Warnings: Smut, Theodore being an asshole like every man on earth, reader being a proud slut.🤘❤️‍🔥
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Being competitive was always one of Theodore Nott's characteristics that almost no one knew about, and as one of the smartest students in Slytherin, Theodore never had trouble keeping his competitiveness to himself. By the end of the third year, the vast majority of Slytherin's points were consistently earned by Theodore, leading Slytherin to take the top spot in the House Cup every year, until Y/n Whispered transferred from Ilvermorny at the beginning of the fourth year and secured the House Cup for Hufflepuff. Theodore couldn't help but feel intense hatred spread through him from head to toe upon seeing that the person who had taken his place was a new, blonde, five-foot-three Hufflepuff girl, which irritated him even more because the attraction he felt towards her was stronger than the instant hatred that surged in his chest. The first time he saw her celebrating with her peers at the end of the year, Theodore decided he would make Y/n's life much more complicated from the moment she looked at him from across the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, and sent a gentle smile his way. Theodore didn't understand the reason behind her beautiful smile but interpreted it as mockery; he preferred to imagine that Y/n was mocking him rather than smiling amiably due to the stories she had heard about him, ultimately ending up liking a Muggle-born Hufflepuff.
In the fifth year, Y/n endured a series of provocations from Theodore until she reacted, turning it into a personal game that went beyond the House Cup. In the fifth year, Slytherin once again won the House Cup, and Theodore made sure to send a card to her room with the message 'What can you do if Muggle-borns only get lucky once in a lifetime, dolcezza,' and on the back of the card, probably the phrase that made Y/n cry with anger for the rest of the night, 'Maybe you should go cry to your parents, little baby.' The next day, Y/n put on her tough mask and threw the paper into Nott's plate at breakfast, saying loudly and clearly, 'My parents are dead, so if you tried to offend me, you failed with both the Muggle-born insult and the part about parents, Stupid Nott.' From that day on, Y/n began to hate Theo for being so stupid, and Theo began to observe Y/n more delicately, and partially the provocations decreased. However, with the decrease in provocations, Y/n's approval and visibility over him also decreased. Nott had to find another way to get her attention, even if it meant returning to taunting.
— You smell that? Oh wait, it's just Y/n walking into the hall.
Y/n heard Nott say loudly as she passed by him during breakfast.
— Must be coming from that mouth of yours that only spews garbage, Theodore.
The girl retorted as she walked past him without even looking at him and sat down at her table nearby.
— You should watch what you say to him, Y/n.
Y/n's friend, Violet, said, glancing quickly at the Slytherin table.
— It's just Nott, Vic. If he wants to hate me, I'll hate him back.
The girl shrugged, drawing Penny's gaze from across the table.
— No, Y/n. I heard they know who's back.
— What?
Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her body trembling. Her parents died in a suspicious and brutal manner while on a trip to the Ministry of Magic in London through dark magic, her uncles, born with pure blood, confirmed that probably some attacks on half-blood wizards are happening all of a result of among them
A week passed, and the news of Voldemort's return turned out to be true, making the seventh year more unsettling than ever. Gradually, half-blood students began disappearing, the common room grew emptier, classrooms quieter and less lively. Y/n had lost all focus on her studies. Dark days were casting a shadow over the wizarding world, and while all her classmates fled to safety with their families, she remained at Hogwarts, surrounded mostly by Slytherins who seemed unaffected.
On a rainy night, Y/n lingered longer than usual in the library, finishing her assignments. As she hurried back to her dorm, she noticed Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, and Theodore Nott standing casually against a wall, engaged in conversation. She lowered her head, bit her lip, and rolled her eyes, her heart racing. "Stupid, stop being silly, Y/n," she scolded herself silently, trying to slip by unnoticed. But Theodore, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, chuckled and began to follow her. — No house to go back to, Y/n? Theodore's voice was mocking, prompting laughter from the three Slytherins echoing down the corridor. Theo couldn't help but wish Y/n would turn around, march over with that cute angry expression he secretly admired, and look him in the eye. — Your family didn't want you because you're a Mudblood?He taunted again, not bothering to face her.
— Fuck you, Theodore. Y/n muttered, stung by his words for the first time because deep down, she knew there was truth in them. Her pureblood uncles' allegiance to Voldemort left her with no safe haven at Hogwarts, just the hope of avoiding a grim fate. Without looking back, Whispered strode on, leaving Theodore to stew in his irritation at her avoidance. It had been over a month since she last met his gaze, and he hated how much he missed their confrontations.
— What did you say?
— What's this bablood still doing here?
Y/n heard Draco ask, his laughter joining Matteo's teasing remark: — Maybe the little lioness needs a cigarette to calm down. Meanwhile, she still heard Theodore's footsteps behind her.
— Hey, I'm talking to you, Mudblood. Theodore quickened his pace, grabbing her wrist, the first time their skin touched and it felt like she was burning against his.
— I said, FUCK YOU, NOTT, and don't fucking touch me. Y/n spun around so forcefully that her ponytail whipped across his face. In that instant, regret surged through her chest. Their eyes locked, and for a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a different side of him. — I'm sorry.
Her voice was barely a whisper as Y/n stumbled backwards, fleeing from the sight of the Slytherins as swiftly as the wind. She was scared, and Theodore saw it in her eyes, as clear as day. What Y/n didn't realize was that he was scared too.
In the days that passed, the school's security changed, which meant there was no security at all, not for her. This meant she felt safer inside her room than walking the corridors. Dumbledore was dead, teachers were as concerned as the remaining students at the school, and all this meant Y/n no longer appreciated meals, only eating when necessary. Theodore had noticed this minimal frequency, and the girl's tired appearance, who seemed not to sleep, began to worry him. He yelled at himself that he shouldn't be concerned.
One night, the Hufflepuff common room was completely deserted, doors wide open, and as Y/n repeated in her letters to her friends far away, there was no security at all. A strange noise from the other side of Whispered's room door made her rise from the bed where she was sitting and grip her wand tightly. When she was sure no one was there, she opened the door and looked at the plate of food on the floor, grabbed it, and placed it on her desk. She picked up the card beside it and read, 'I noticed you haven't been eating properly. It's important that you eat, bella.' Y/n stared at the plate for a few long minutes, afraid it might be poisoned, but when her stomach rumbled at the smell emanating from the food, her resistance was broken, and she quickly devoured the plate.
Over the next two weeks, similar things happened with several meals feeding Y/n when she didn't show up in the main hall. Over thirty cards accumulated in her drawer, and Y/n couldn't decipher all the Italian nicknames at the end of the notes, wondering who could be doing this.
Late one night, three days since Y/n had eaten anything, a knock on her door echoed, and without fear, Y/n opened it quickly, eager to see who was entering the Hufflepuff common room at such an hour. To her surprise, she saw Theodore Nott's figure quickly disappearing down the corridor.
— Hey! She shouted, running after him and grabbing his wrist just as he had done to her on several previous occasions. Her gaze fell upon him, looking unsure there.
— What are you doing? Y/n asked suspiciously.
— I can't be seen here — he murmured. Y/n stood still briefly until Nott pushed her back into the room.
— So what are you doing here? she asked again.
— You haven't been eating...
Theo said, pointing to the untouched food.
— That's not true. It was, but she didn't want to admit it to him.
— I know it is, dolcezza. Theo said, almost desperate, leaving Y/n confused.
— What are you still doing here, Y/n? Theodore asked, concerned, moving closer to Y/n, who for the first time didn't pull away from him in fear.
— I should be asking you what you were doing in my room. She said, ignoring his question. Theodore moved closer again, almost touching their noses.
— I'm serious, Y/n.
— I have nowhere else to go, Theodore. You were right, my family doesn't want me, so I'll stay. Is that okay with you? Y/n turned away from his gaze, walking away. — Thanks for the food, but you can go now.
— You have to leave. He whispered. Y/n shook her head, briefly glancing towards him without really meeting his eyes.
— Why are you worried?
— Because... because, I... He stuttered, unsure of what to say. — I... I want you to be okay, Y/n.
— Why? I'm a badblood,' as you all say, why does it matter? You never liked me, Theodore, I don't understand.
— Don't call yourself that way.
— Theodore.
The girl moaned and Theodore sighed worried.
— If they find you, they'll kill you. I...I...
— Theodore, you're not answering what I'm asking. Why are you worried?
— I don't know, Y/n. — Theo sat on the bed with his hands on his head and his arms on his knees, his eyes closed, and Y/n stood still in front of him. — I shouldn't, but I care about you.
— That doesn't make sense, you hate me, Theodore...
— No! I don't hate you. Theodore stood up quickly and approached her, almost touching their noses.
— But you always...
— I've always been an idiot because I wanted to get your attention. I wanted you to look at me. Theo said, closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.
— That makes no sense, Nott.
— No! It doesn't, but I don't know a better way to do it...
— Maybe act like a normal person?
— My mother would hate me for what I did to you and say I'm foolish. Theo muttered more to himself and ran his hands through his now longer hair.
— I think I've loved you since the first day you smiled at me, Bella. You have this thing, that pulls me to you. Theo whispered, and Y/n widened her eyes, expecting to find a prank.
— But you ran away...that's nonsense, how? Me and you, Theodore? What the hell are you talking about, my God. She laughed humorlessly and rushed away from the Italian's body, agitated. — Where's Matheo and Malfoy? Okay, YOU CAN COME IN NOW! I UNDERSTAND. She shouted at the door, desperate, and Theodore pulled her by the shoulders to look at him again.
— It's not a prank, Whispered. There's no one there, they know that, and it was them who told me to talk to you.
— You were about to run when I saw you, Theodore. She repeated. — I can't believe you could ever love a 'mudblood. She made air quotes with her fingers, and Theodore closed his eyes, groaning. — H-h-how could y-you love me, Theodore? She stuttered, feeling vulnerable, and suddenly Theodore's lips pressed against hers, the girl from her first day at Hogwarts was enchanted by Theo's beauty and intelligence, but when she realized he would never feel the same besides the eternal teasing resolved to slap her in chest of, now, doesn't
— Believe me, bella. Y/n nodded, getting lost in those deep blue eyes, and leaned in to kiss him once again, more harder. Their size difference didn't help at all, so Theo grabbed the girl's waist and set her on the desk in a way that she opened her legs to accommodate his body between them.
— The world is going to end, isn't it? — Y/n asked, placing kisses on Theodore's neck and fighting for the dominance he had previously taken, starting to distribute kisses along her neck.
— If no one stop this crazy wizard, yes, my princess. He said, giving wet kisses on Y/n's skin, making her moan and tilt her hips closer to his, seeking some friction against his pants.
— Fuck — she moaned once more, and Theodore found her lips again. His hand on her waist pulled her body closer to his, and Theodore groaned as he rubbed against the wet fabric of Y/n's panties with his hard erection.
— Shit, Y/n, you're so wet — He groaned this time, and Y/n nodded, clinging to him.
— Do you want to fuck me? Please do it, Teddy. She whimpered into Theodore's neck, who opened his mouth in ecstasy at the girl's words begging for him.
— Mia bellissima principessa, ti scoperò così bene. The Italian in Theo's voice made Y/n spread her legs wider in anticipation, seeking some friction against her clitoris.
— Please. — With that, Theo removed the girl's green lace panties, his provocative gaze falling on her form.
— Green panties? I think someone was longing for me. He said, biting the girl's shoulder, making her laugh.
— What can I do if... — Before she could finish her sentence, Theodore inserted two fingers inside her.
— So wet for me. — He groaned as he moved his fingers against her. — Such a good girl.
He repeated as she reached her peak, knowing she was close because he felt her tighten around his fingers. Just before she came, Theodore pulled his fingers out, provoking a frustrated moan from her, and removed his pants, revealing his erect cock with a red tip. Y/n's eyes shone in anticipation, and without him noticing, she got on her knees, grabbing his cock and pumping it before taking it into her mouth like a lollipop. After a few sucks, he pulled her back up, kissing her lips and smiling at her shiny lips. — I want to be inside you, principessa.
— Do it. — With that, Theodore spread her legs on the desk and plunged his cock into her.
— Damn, so tight. He moaned together with her as she smiled. Theo began to move at a fast pace, but not fast enough, making Y/n move her hips forward, trying to go faster. — So impatient. He said, then started to fuck her at a much quicker pace.
— Such a tight pussy for me. Theo moaned into her ear as the wet sounds filled the room.
— Fuck, Teddy, yes, uh-huh, fuck me like that. — She moaned loudly, and Theodore smiled with his neck buried in her neck, feeling her walls tighten around him.
— Are you going to cum for me, princess? Nott asked, and Y/n grunted, nodding. — Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, I know you want to.
As he said those words, Y/n reached her climax, moaning loudly and panting, smiling, still feeling Theodore's release above her as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. Y/n leaned into his ear and did what he did to her.
— Cum inside me, Teddy. — She moaned, and Theodore opened his mouth, obsessed with this girl. — Cum inside my pussy. Please. Put your babies inside me. She said, and with that, Theodore pushed in several times with erratic but deep thrusts, spilling all his cum inside the girl who was now drenched.
— Why did i never admit what i want, fuck Y/n. Theo groaned and hugged Y/n's tired body, pulling her close.
— You're an idiot.
— Totally, come on, let's clean you up.
As days went by, Y/n and Theo's secret rendezvous became more frequent: stolen kisses, clandestine meetings in their room unnoticed by Professor Snape. Y/n brought calm to Theo, and he brought solace to her. Until today.
A chilling laugh echoed through the Slytherin common room, and Blaise burst in, his face grave.
— They're here... Death Eaters have arrived at Hogwarts, and that spells trouble for Y/n.
—They're looking for her, Theo. Blaise added, and Theodore pushed the girl behind him protectively. — You need to hide, Y/n.
— WHO'S GOING TO CATCH THAT LITTLE RAT WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND? Bellatrix's voice boomed from the stairs, and Blaise shook his head before departing.
— I'll try to stall them. Figure out your next move, Theodore. With that, he left the room.
— Theo... Y/n called to him, but his focus was on strategizing how to save her.
— Theodore Nott. They'll kill you if they find out I'm here. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders as he hyperventilated.
— They'll kill you, Y/n.
— They know I'm here, Theo. They want me because of my family's history.
— I can't let them take you. Theo shook his head, pulling the blonde into a tight embrace.
— It's going to be okay. She murmured, looking into his eyes.
— Apparate with me to my room and take me as if you found me. It'll be suspicious if they find you up here. She said resolutely until Theo looked at her face, realizing too late how much he loved her, and apparated to the ruined Hufflepuff common room.
They walked to the dungeons, and before proceeding, Theo turned to her, kissing her, resting his forehead against hers, and sighed.
— I'm sorry for being foolish for so long.
— I love you, Theodore Nott. I spent six weeks with you and it was enough to know that you have a much bigger heart than everyone said, And I know I was right when I fell in love with you since the day I first saw you at fourteen years old. It's going to be okay.
Those were her last words before being handed over to the Death Eaters.
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Requests are open💞
278 notes · View notes
lilypadthaii · 5 months ago
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idiot | suna rintarō
suna rintaro x reader :3 wc: 2.7k
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tropes: unrequited love, childhood friends to lovers, kinda oblivious reader a/n: sunas probably ooc, i cant write nonchalant men srry. also NOT proofread so sorry if there r mistakes :p
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you first met suna when you were both just 7 years old. you were introduced to him by the twins, who happened to be your neighbors at the time. 
the interaction didn’t feel like it was anything out of the ordinary, but looking back on it, maybe it was the start of it all. 
“hi! my name’s y/n l/n! i’ve heard a lot about you from tsumu and samu! let’s be good friends from now on, ‘kay?” 
what could he possibly do but accept? there was no way he could reject you, not with the toothy grin you flashed at him and the tight hug you enveloped him in right after. 
that was how he first got pulled into your orbit. 
from that point on, you, him, and the twins were practically inseparable. you went on adventures together everyday, catching bugs, riding your bikes, playing pranks on your parents, etc. 
while most of the time, it seemed as though he was just being dragged along, he couldn’t deny that he had fun. 
even though the twins were as annoying as ever, he didn’t actually mind you. he didn’t mind getting sneak attacked by your snowballs when it snowed in the winter, and he didn’t mind listening to you sing loudly and out of tune into the fan during the summer. 
to say the least, he found you bearable. 
he began noticing a change when he was 13, at the start of a new school year. the four of you hung out frequently, almost everyday during school hours and afterschool. yet, something had changed about the dynamic of this friend group that he couldn’t quite place.
maybe it was the way your gaze would linger on atsumu’s for longer than usual. maybe it was the way atsumu would trip over his words when you showed up. maybe it was the way it seemed like you and atsumu were slowly drifting away from him and osamu into you two’s own little world. maybe, just maybe, it was the way what used to be plans that were shared by the four of you became one on one hangouts between you and atsumu.
perhaps that’s why it didn’t shock him when you two announced that you were dating just a few weeks later. 
he couldn’t blame you for falling for him. after all, atsumu was charming, funny, talented, and treated you well. why wouldn’t you?
unfortunately, this fact didn’t stop the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest for weeks after. 
he passed it off as a side effect of the summer heat. 
when you were 15, you were arguing with atsumu almost everyday. most of the time it was just stupid stuff, like him being late to a date or leaving you on read. when he got more invested in volleyball, however, he began spending less and less time with you.
the arguments only got worse and worse. at some point, suna was sure you two were going to break up, but you never did.
one summer night, you two were eating ice cream at local convenience store. it was like any other conversation of you two’s at the time: you complaining about atsumu and him quietly listening. 
“what should i do, rin? he’s so frustrating… it doesn’t even seem like he’s wants to be with me anymore! all he ever talks about volleyball… i mean, does he even like ME anymore? maybe he’s just too busy for a relationship.”
he stared at the moon as he listened to you ramble. it was strangely beautiful tonight. he wanted to take out his phone and snap a picture, but he knew you’d get upset. 
“why don’t you just break up with him?”
he had interrupted you abruptly, so he expected you to reprimand him. instead, you went completely silent.
he turned to look at you, expecting an answer, but was surprised by what he saw. 
you were covering your face with your hands, but there was no way he could mistake the tears welling up in your eyes for anything else.
“i know, i mean, i’ve considered it so many times. i’m an idiot, i know, but i,” you blubbered, hiccupping as you spoke, “i don’t want to leave him.”
it was silent for a few seconds, and when you looked up at him, he was watching you carefully. 
“why?”
you looked down again and swallowed before replying. “because i love him, suna. i love him so much, i can’t imagine being without him. i know it might just be because i’m young and stupid, but i don’t want to give up on us.”
you were slightly startled by the comforting touch of his head on your head, patting you as if you were a pet. 
“things will work out. atsumu loves you too, he’s just an idiot. don’t doubt yourself, dumbass.”
you choked out a laugh as you wiped your tears. 
“thanks, rin. i’m so glad you’re my best friend.”
you gave him your signature toothy grin, and his heart did the thing, just as it always did when you smiled at him, and just as he always would, he’d brush it off as him being sick. man, he really needed to get this heart problem checked out.
even as you continued your rant about your incompetent boyfriend, suna wondered how, even with your puffy eyes and red nose, you managed to look like that. how the moonlight perfectly traced your features, as if gently kissing every aspect of your face.  
perhaps he’d known it for a while, but was in denial, that he felt something for you that a best friend shouldn’t. but what could he do? 
you were in love with atsumu, and this was an absolute. a fact of life, just like how humans needed air to live and the sky was blue. 
when you were 17, your relationship had gotten past the arguing stage and was relatively stable. you went every game of inarizaki’s that you could, cheering for them from the sidelines.
there was one particular game that stuck with suna. it was a victory in a difficult game against karasuno. 
after the game, he saw you running up to him, and spread his arms, ready to receive your hug. 
but it wasn’t him you were running to. it was atsumu. it wasn’t his hug to receive. it was atsumu’s. you ran past him, jumping into atsumu’s arms, and he spun you around as you congratulated him with kisses. 
he’d remember that moment forever, because it’d serve as a reminder that it would never be him, and that he shouldn’t ever get his hopes up.
when he was 18, he received a text from you that would end your 11 year friendship. you two had been distant for a while, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising. 
“hey, suna. we’ve been friends for so long, and it breaks my heart to do this to us, but i don’t think we should be friends anymore. atsumu doesn’t want me being too close to any guys, which is understandable, so i think it’s only right of me to do this. i’m sorry, and i wish you the best. i hope you’ll remember me as your best best friend :)”
he considered calling you, but stopped himself. what did he want from you? an explanation? you’d already given him one. there wasn’t anything he could do. 
he buried himself in volleyball to force himself to forget you, what you two had, or rather, what he had for you. it worked, for a while, until he received a sudden call from an unknown number on his 22nd birthday. 
he was out with his team, getting drinks at a bar. he probably would’ve declined, if not for the gut feeling that rose in his stomach when he saw the number. so he stepped out and answered.
“hello? ri- oops, suna, is that you?”
he swore he felt his heart rate accelerate as soon as he heard your voice through the speaker. 
“yeah, it’s me. is this y/n?” you’d gotten a new number, he noted. 
“yes, i know, this is sudden and weird, and i don’t want to intrude, but i know it’s your birthday, so i just wanted to say happy birthday. i hope you’re doing well. i know it’s not my place to say this, so i’m sorry-“
you were rambling, just as you always did when you were stressed or nervous. it made him a little happy, knowing you hadn’t changed.
“it’s okay,” he interrupted, “thank you for that. i’m doing well. how are you?”
he’d spend the next hour on the phone with you, catching up on your lives, until one of his teammates popped his head out of the restaurant and asked if he was coming back in.
“i’m definitely ruining your birthday night huh? i’m so sorry, i’ll let you get back to that. but, if it’s okay, would you like to meet up sometime? i’ll text you, if it’s okay?”
“yeah, sure.”
“happy birthday, rin!” was all he heard before you hung up. the nickname gave him a rush of nostalgia, one that warmed his insides.
he went back inside the bar with a stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t wipe off, one that would get him teased by his teammates for the rest of the night.
a week later, he finds himself in a cozy cafe near his house that he never knew existed, pretending to browse the weather app on his phone as he waits. 
he’s so nervous he doesn’t even notice you until you sit down directly in front of him, setting down your bag with dozens of clinking keychains attached. 
you laugh as you see him visibly startle. “it’s just me, suna. sorry i’m a little late. how long’ve you been waiting for?”
“just a few minutes, don’t worry.”
he pauses to take in your appearance. you’re as beautiful as ever. you seem more mature now (how stupid, you’re both adults now after all), but he can still see glimpses of your much younger self in the smile you give him. 
he snaps himself out of his trance when you speak up, “i know all i’ve been doing since we started talking again is apologizing, but i’m genuinely sorry, suna. i shouldn’t have done that to you. i threw away our friendship like it was nothing. i told myself it was for the better, that atsumu needed me, and i wanted to be the best girlfriend for him. but i’ve since realized how naive i was.” you pause, thinking back to your nearly ten year relationship. he sees something in your eyes he didn’t when you two were together, and suna can’t stop himself from asking. 
“are you two… still together?” 
you can almost laugh at how hesitant he sounds, like he’s trying not to step on a landmine. 
“no, we’re not. we broke up a year ago, and i’ve realized it was for the better.” when you see his questioning gaze, you continue, “i feel like most of our relationship, i was basically living for him. i centered my life around him. i lost friends and hobbies all for a guy who i know now cares more about volleyball than he could about anybody. i’m the biggest idiot in the world.” 
you feel the tears coming back to you, but you force them down. you’re here to apologize, not to make an even bigger fool of yourself.
“you’re not an idiot, y/n. you found something great, and you just wanted to treasure it. it’s his fault he couldn’t appreciate that.”
as he says this, he gives you an adoring smile, as if saying he thinks you’ve hung the moon and stars, and you feel your heart swoon a little at the sight. 
“do you.. accept my apology? i know we might not be able to go back to the way we were before, but can we at least be friends again? as selfish as this may seem, i miss what we had, suna.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do that, y/n.”
a feeling of dejection washes you, but you do your best to quickly brush it off. 
“i understand. again, i’m sorry. i’m glad we had the chance to catch up, though. i should leave now-“
“you misunderstood. i can’t be just friends with you. the reason i wanted to catch up with you wasn’t so we could just be friends.”
the next words he says are the exact ones you never thought he’d say, let alone to you.
“i like you. no, i’m in love with you. it took a while to come to terms with, but i’ve been in love with you since we first became best friends. i thought i’d be able to act normal after seeing you again, that the feeling would fade, but it hasn’t. in fact, it’s only gotten stronger.”
suna thought he’d have trouble saying it, but as soon as it started, the words came out naturally, likely because the feelings he felt for you came just as naturally to him.
“now, if we’re going to be friends, i want it to be with the intention of becoming lovers in the future. i know you’re still getting over him, and you’re not ready, but if you ever think you are and you want to give me a chance, i’m right here.”
“i always have been,” he adds.
you’re speechless, and you swear you feel like your heart is pumping at 200 mph. you’d be lying if you said before you began dating atsumu, you’d never seen him as a potential partner, but that was so long ago and you were just a kid.
“oh. i’m- what? sorry, i’m just really surprised. i don’t know what to say, suna.”
“that’s alright. i’m not expecting anything right now, but in the future, if you’re looking for something, let me be the first option, yeah?”
that night, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his heart. he goes to sleep thinking about how pretty you looked in the cafe.
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a couple months later, you two go on your first ever date. it’s a picnic by the river near your house, and it just so happens to be on the day of a lantern festival. you both make wishes as you light your lanterns and set them into the water. he makes a quick wish that your wish will come true, and after he watches as you intently make yours. you look so cute, he can’t help but snap a picture. he should make that his lock screen, he decides.
he asks you out officially just a few months later. it happens during a romantic, candlelit dinner at his house. you’re a little drunk from the wine, so you start crying about how considerate he is and how much you like him, pulling him into a tight hug. he can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face as he comforts you.
one unsuspecting weekend, suna announces that he’ll be flying you out to one of his official volleyball games. it’s sudden, but you want to support him, so you don’t put up a fight. you’re sitting on the bleachers before the game begins, and it’s so crowded you can barely hear, but there’s no mistaking the way the announcer calls your name. you look at suna questioningly, and he gestures for you to come down. when you finally make it down onto the court, all his teammates are standing off to the side. as you get closer to suna, he smiles, and it’s so bright that you can’t help but smile back. 
he then gets down on one knee, and you swear your heart almost explodes on the spot. before he can finish his question, you jump on him, enveloping him in a hug that ends up with you on top of him on the ground. as the tears well up in your eyes, you watch as he slides the ring on your finger intently, and you realize you must have been an idiot to not notice him all this time.
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divider source: cafekitsune!!
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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago
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I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)
  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.
Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red
CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort
(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)
Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.
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Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 
 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.
    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.
Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.
He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.
  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.
Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.
  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”
 Thus began the war of all wars.
It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.
  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.
   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 
  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.
What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.
   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 
  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.
  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 
  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.
 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.
  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.
  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.
  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 
  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 
   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 
 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 
 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 
 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.
You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.
_________________________________________________
 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 
  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 
 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.
He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.
His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.
Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.
He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.
Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….
  No, I am sure they are just fine.
 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.
After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.
  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.
The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.
He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.
 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 
  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.
  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 
  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 
His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.
  “Darling,” he says softly.
    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.
  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”
 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 
  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.
He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 
  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.
______________________________________________
  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.
 “Astarion.”
  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.
  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.
 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”
  “I almost got you killed.”
 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”
  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”
 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.
  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 
He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.
“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”
  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 
 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.
 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 
  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”
 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”
 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.
  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.
You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.
You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.
 “Good night Astarion.”
  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.
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oreolemur · 5 months ago
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Ok so how about a Megumi x female reader.... Where Megumi is a bully... He bullied the reader so much. But the reader Fears Megumi so much so she didn't tell anything to Megumi. Reader had a crush on Yuta. They weren't in a relationship but they liked each other so much... Megumi doesn't like it...cz he loves the reader but never tells anyone cz he loves to bully her.... So being jealous one day he raped the reader and made a video of it and send it to Yuta...
Here you go!!
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Watching you from a distance, Megumi couldn’t stand to see you happy with Yuta. “That shit pisses me off”, he muttered. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating. You and Yuta have been best friends since elementary school, but as you both got older, you started to develop feelings for each other. “Wanna hang out this weekend?”, Yuta asked. “My roommate will be out of town. We can watch movies and binge on snacks”. He was always a sweet guy. “Sure, sounds fun”, you smiled, gathering your stuff as you began to head to your next class. “Alright, see you Saturday”, Yuta waved goodbye, going his separate ways. You watched him leave, blushing at the thought of having alone time with him. “Eek, I can’t wait!”. 
Once you made it to your next period, you sat down, sighing. “I hope he’s absent today”. You look at the classroom’s entrance, watching and waiting. “Please don’t be here. Please don’t be here”. You bite your nails, bouncing your leg. “Move your bag”, a voice said beside you. You were so focused on one entrance of the classroom that you forgot all about the other. You look next to you, seeing Megumi…your bully. “Move your goddamn bag”, he repeated. You quickly did, placing it on the floor. “I-I thought you weren’t coming today”, you said. Megumi took a seat next to you. “You’d like that wouldn’t you”, he responded. You knew you would actually. Megumi was always mean to you, taunting you however he saw fit. 
Even during lessons, he didn’t care about the fact that you were trying to learn. He would sharpen his pencil, stabbing you in the thigh with it. What made it worse was that you always wore dresses and skirts, so it was easy access for him. “Please stop”, you begged, on the verge of crying. Megumi could hear the pain in your voice. “If you cry I will do it harder”, he said, digging the sharp object into your skin. You clenched your fists, trying not to cry. Your bully heard you struggling as you took deep shaky breaths. “Tch, pathetic”. But that’s not the only thing he would do. When class ended, he would take it upon himself to trip you, making you fall. One day, you fell so hard your face hit your textbooks, causing your nose to bleed. 
You could never escape Megumi. He had you wrapped around his finger. You were his toy and he loved to play with you. Even when you thought it was ok to avoid him, he punished you for it. When he did hit you, he would beat you in places you could cover up. “You know what happens if you tell anyone about this right?”. He would threaten you, making you sure you kept quiet. You never understood what you could’ve done for him to treat you this way. “W-why do you hurt me?”. You asked that question often, but all he ever said was, “Because I want to”.
No matter how close you were with Yuta, you knew you would never have the courage to tell him. He was your safe space, a person that made you smile, and a shoulder to cry on. “He would be heartbroken hearing about this”. You always put on a smile around him, although some days you were in pain or depressed about your situation. No one could make you feel better than Yuta. Maybe that’s why you have feelings for him? “Are you ready to have fun with me tomorrow”, Yuta asked, walking you back to your dorm. “Of course I am”, you blushed. Seeing your face turn red, Yuta blushed as well. “D-did you pick a time for us to meet? I was thinking we could go out to eat first”, the man asked. Dinner with your crush? You were flustered, “Um…h-how about…7?”, you suggested. Yuta agreed to it. 
Once you reached your dorm, you hugged Yuta goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, you said. Before you could walk off, Yuta grabbed you by the arm, pulling you in. “What-”, he cut you off, smashing his lips onto yours. “How was that?”, he asked, shocked by his boldness. You blinked a few times as he left you speechless. “Did you not like it?”, he wondered. You shook your head. “N-No…I loved it”. You quickly pecked his lips, walking off. “See you tomorrow!”, you shouted. 
Opening the main entrance to your dorm, you ran into your bully. The two of you looked at each other in silence. “W-what are you doing here?”, you asked. Megumi continued to stare at you. He was furious, but didn’t show it. “Do you like him?”, he asked. You looked at him confused, “Who?”. He sucked his teeth, getting up. “You know who”, he said. “Do you like him…Yuta?”. You nod, “Y-yes, why?”. Megumi stood in front of you, staring into your eyes. He didn’t say anything…just looked. “What do you want?”, you questioned. He ignored your question, walking out of the building. You looked back at him, wondering what that was. “At least he didn’t hurt me”, you said. 
❤~The Next Day~❤
You spent the entire evening getting yourself ready to go out with Yuta. “I have to look my best”, you said looking into your closet for something cute to wear. “This will do”. You picked out a cute black skirt that was knee high. Then you chose a pink long sleeve with ribbons on it. You were so excited that it was hard to contain your happiness. “I can’t believe he kissed me”, you blushed. Having Yuta as your first kiss was a dream come true. “I’m glad he likes me back. Maybe he’ll ask me out”. You daydreamed about the two of you being together. A dream with just love and security…and no Megumi. Definitely no Megumi. You couldn’t help but think about the awkward run in you had with him yesterday. “What was his problem?”. You shook it off, focusing on getting ready. “Nothing will stand in the way of my happiness tonight”. 
Meanwhile Megumi was in his apartment, sitting on the couch.  He stared blankly at the TV which wasn’t even on. “She likes him”, he said. The man saw everything that happened between you and Yuta. “They kissed”. He was in his feelings. “She belongs to me”. Megumi loved you. But how could that be? He clenched his fists at the idea of you dating someone other than him. He wanted you. You were his and his only. It didn’t matter that all he does is hurt you. “She’s mine”. He got up from the couch, grabbing his keys. He decided it would be best to go for a nightly stroll to clear his head. 
❤~6:30pm~❤
You checked yourself in the mirror. “I look so cute”, you smiled. You applied some makeup to your face, adding any finishing touches to it. “Ok…done”. You grabbed your purse and phone, sending a text to Yuta that you’re on the way. You exited your room, heading down stairs. The moment you got to the main entrance, you saw Megumi standing there. It was like he was waiting for something…or someone. You slowly opened the door, wondering why he was there. “Megumi? W-why are you here?”. He took a step close to you, staring. “What do you-”, before you could finish, he slapped you. “Ow”. You rubbed your cheek, looking at him with tearful eyes. “Come with me”, he said. You shook your head, “I can’t I-”. He hit you again. “Come with me”, he repeated. Your cheek began to bruise. You held your face, looking down at the floor. Megumi watched you cry, feeling nothing. He stepped closer to you, grabbing your face. “When your boyfriend tells you to do something you do it”, he said.
You looked at him confused. “B-boyfriend?”, you paused. “We’re not even dating”. He grabbed your wrists, dragging you along with him. “Let's go”. You stumbled, trying to catch up with him. “Please let go of me”, you begged, attempting to pull your arm away from him. He gripped you tighter, digging his nails into your skin. You knew you were powerless against him, so you had no other choice but to follow him. He took you across campus to the apartments that were beside the university. “I hope he doesn’t beat me badly this time”, you hoped. Once he approached his front door, he opened it, pushing you inside. 
You jumped when his dogs began to bark at you. “Ignore them”, he said, guiding you to his bedroom. He ordered you to sit on the bed as he closed the door behind him. “Can we make this quick? I-I have somewhere important to be”, you stated. You took out your phone, looking at the time.”Give me your phone”, Megumi demanded. You didn’t want to. “Why?”, you asked. He walked up to you, snatching it out of your hand. “H-hey, come-”. He slapped you again, making the bruise even worse. “Please stop hitting me”, you begged. Megumi ignored you, unlocking your phone. “You think it’s ok to cheat on me?”, he said. The man kept confusing you. “Cheat? What are you talking about?”. Megumi scoffed, “You know exactly what I’m talking about”.
He was beyond delusional at this point. “I saw what you and Yuta did!”. You can see the anger in his eyes as he was starting to lose his composure. “He kissed you and-”, Megumi was cut off. A text from Yuta came through. “What does he mean “Are you still coming?”, the man asked. “W-we were supposed to hang out tonight”, you said. Megumi bawled his fists. “What!”. He grabbed you by the neck, pinning you on the bed. He choked you as he spewed nonsense about you belonging to him. You clawed at his hands, trying desperately to get him to unhand you. “S-stop”, you begged. His grip became harder. Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head. Your body continued to fight back, but the longer he choked you…your limbs grew weak. “Damnit!”, Megumi shouted as he let go. You gasped for air as he got off you.
Megumi reached for your phone, unlocking it again. “Guess I’ll  have to show you AND him who you belong to”. He went to your camera, pressing record. He set the device on his dresser, making sure it was facing the bed. As he approached you, you noticed he was taking off his clothes. You tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down. His hands took hold of your skirt, pulling it off along with your panties. You tried to stop him but he smacked your hand away. “Keep fighting and I’ll make it worse”, he warned. You didn’t want to take that chance, so you compiled. Megumi pried your legs open, spitting on your pussy, before shoving his full length in. You cried out in pain, feeling him thrust hard. “Shut up and take it”, he said. He groaned at how tight you were. It was painful, you never thought that your first time would be like this. 
He lifted up your shirt, exposing your jiggling breasts. He grabbed them, squeezing hard. “Megumi…please”, you sobbed. Megumi ignored you, continuing to do as he pleased. “Fuck”, he moaned, going harder. You couldn’t stop clenching around him. Your tight walls milked his cock, making the man blush. He leaned into your face, holding it still as he kissed you. You cried into his mouth as he forcefully stuck his tongue inside. The phone was still recording, catching everything that Megumi was doing to you. He pulled away from your mouth, looking back at the device, grinning. “Perfect”, he whispered. He drew his attention back to you, staring at your tearful face. “Don’t act like you don’t like it”, he said. “You’re supposed to love your boyfriend’s cock inside you”. 
Megumi stopped, flipping you over on your stomach. He lubed your ass up with spit, rubbing his dick against your anus. “Are you done?”, you asked. “I can’t take anymore”. He grabbed your hair, yanking your head back. Your body was pressed against his chest as he whispered into your ear. “You’ll take whatever I give you”. He pushed you back down, thrusting hard into your ass. You were shocked by how much it hurt. Your cries grew louder. Megumi dug his nails into your waist, holding it for support. “St-stop”, you whimpered. It didn’t take long for your voice to die down. Your vision blurred as you started to pass out. “About time you shut the fuck up”, Megumi said. 
❤~Hours Later~❤
You woke up, lying naked beside your bully. He was sound asleep with his arm wrapped around you. You slowly got up, trying not to make a sound. It was hard to move. You can tell he did more after you lost consciousness. “I know Yuta is disappointed in me”, you said. As you got dressed, you looked for your phone, grabbing it off Megumi’s nightstand. “What the hell?”, you stared at you and Yuta’s messages. He blew up your phone, making you wonder why. As you scrolled up more, your heart dropped. Megumi sent the video to him. “W-why would he do that?”. He edited the video to when you had passed out. He made it look like the two of you were having sex. You cried silently as you grabbed your purse to leave. 
“I’m guessing you saw the video”, Megumi woke up, hearing you sniffle. You looked back at him, asking him why he did that. “Because I love you…”, he got up from the bed, walking over to you. His hand reached out, caressing your face. “You think I want to see you happy with someone else”. He wiped away your tears, taking the phone out of your hand. “Looks like my plan worked”, he read the messages, feeling proud of himself. “You’re an asshole”, you said, snatching your phone out of his hands. Megumi laughed at you. He didn’t care that he ruined your chance with Yuta. All that mattered was that you were his. “Don’t be mad, sweetheart. You’ll grow to love me soon enough”.
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