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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

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Apology won’t cut it

Tim Rockford x f!reader

summary: Tim forgot about your anniversary…how can he make things right?

warnings: SMUT (oral -f!receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia -with estabilished consent, reader and Tim talked about it before-, unprotected p in v, reader “hangs” onto those shoulder holsters while Tim fucks her, creampie,(1) spitting on pussy, praise kink, biting), talks of infidelity, cursing, mentions of food, mentions of reader being pregnant, fluff -it’s me…so :)

word count: 4.3K (how that happened? - i don’t know either)

A/N: Tim is hot and I have things for detectives/agents with shoulder holsters (*cough, cough* Seeley Booth)

You met Tim a few years back through your friend. Normal Sunday brunch turned into you confiding to her – telling her that you worry that your husband might be cheating. The past few months he was spending more and more time in his office – the fact that you saw his new personal assistant a few months back who was much younger and prettier than you didn't help.

Susan, your friend, tried to soothe your worries but when you started being a babbling and a sobbing mess – you've spend most of your life with your husband and the thought of him cheating on you cut your heart deeper than you thought it would – she sighed and withdrawn something from her purse. A small plain business card layed between her neat fingers.

She passed it to you with a few tissues as well and when you finally wiped all of your tears away, you looked at what was written on it – both of your eyebrows raising in a question.

“It's a private investigator. I hired him when I had a suspicion that Richard might be cheating on me as well. Turned out he was just working extra shifts so he could buy me an engagement ring.” She grinned at the memory and you looked at her finger – the diamond ring he bought her shining in the daylight sun. You offered her a little smile – happy for her. Richard was a nice guy – sweet and genuine and you didn't know how she could think he was cheating on her – he kissed the ground she walked on. “But really, he is great, sweetie. A little pricey but he does his job well. It doesn't hurt that he is easy on the eyes too.” She winked while you bit your lip in contemplation.

A few days pass since your Sunday brunch and you think about calling the number numerous times – then telling yourself that you shouldn't doubt your husband's loyalty. Though when he left this morning without even kissing you on the head as he normally would – not even sparing you a little glance, you were more certain than ever – you were going to find out what was going on once and for all. Even if it should break your heart.

When the other voice on the other line says “hello?” you get nervous. You are really doing this.

“Hello, uhm – I, ugh- I’d received your business card from a friend and would like to hire your services. Are you busy or-?” Smooth. Real smooth.

“No, not really,” he chuckles - the cigar he was smoking dangling from his lips, “would you like to meet at yours or at my office?” His voice was a little gruff but very soothing at the same time. You try to imagine what he looks like – didn't sound like a young man, maybe someone close to your age range – not that you were old or something.

You quickly scribbled the address where he worked as you found it more appropriate that you rather meet him at his office than if he should invade your own home.

When you arrive at the address he gave you, you found yourself in front of a small brick building – the doors are pretty mahogany color but creaky and when you enter it looks bigger than on the outside. Various small offices with different names on glass windowed doors surround you and you look for his business card in your purse – forgetting his name.

Tim Rockford – it says on the card and you squint your eyes when you see doors with the same name on it far back. You stride with confident steps towards it even when you are not feeling that way at all. You knock – one time, two times and the third time a small gruff “come in” can be heard from the other side of the door.

When you step in the first thing that hits you is the cigar smoke and you cough a little – you hate smoking. Then you finally see the man in question. He looks a little older - the bags under his eyes make him seem that. He quickly stands up from his leather chair that creaks and offers you a small smile which you uncertainly return. He is handsome in a ruggish way. His hair is short and has a few silver strands mixed in there as well, and his beard is patchy – that is something very endearing about the fact. His shoulders are broad and you think he should buy a bigger shirt as this one is straining against his frame – not that you mind that much.

He quickly puts out the cigar when he sees your nose wrinkling at the smell – observant as well. Not bad. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it – his grip is strong but not in an unpleasant way and his palms are a little sweaty. He clears his throat and offers you his name which you do the same in return. He sits down and gestures to the older-looking armchair sitting opposite him. It's comfier than it looks.

“So, what brings you here, m’am?” You scrunch your nose for a second – not feeling that old but don't say a thing about it. Right, let's cut right to the chase.

“I-I think my husband might be cheating on me and I'd like for you to find out if that's true.” He doesn't look at you weirdly or anything – as you thought he would. He just nods his head and asks your husband's name which you provide.

“That's all I really need. I will find out all of the other information myself and will call you if I will find some clues. Sounds good to you, m’am?” You nod and give him your phone number – the phone you called him from being the house landline.

A few weeks pass, Tim calls you often or you go to his office – recently you started inviting him to your house as you started feeling more comfortable around him – all of the clues hint that your husband is really cheating on you and he tries to make you feel better about it – cracking jokes here and there and you appreciate it even though it doesn't seem all that professional.

Today he brings a folder with him. The yellow one you often see in some kind of crime film that holds photos of the victim – and when he enters he throws you a sad smile. You know what it means but you try to not think about it. You offer him tea and he hastily accepts – he knows that you already know. In the past few weeks, he got to know you and he noticed that you try to occupy yourself with other things when you are nervous.

He sits on your leather couch – you bought it last week – and he watches you make the tea in your smaller kitchen. When you sit down next to him you put the cups of tea on the glass table. He passes you the folder and when you open it a few tears flow freely from your eyes. You were expecting it. You really were but it still hurts. You feel sick as you throw the folder next to the cups – not really in the mood to look at the pictures of your husband sticking his tongue into someone else's throat. Tim lands his hand on your shoulder – trying to comfort you. That's when you throw yourself at him, hugging him close to you and he doesn't reciprocate the hug for a while – it's not professional at all and he shouldn't but when you sob into his work shirt his heart breaks and pulls you closer to him. Slowly stroking your back and kissing the top of your head gently.

You stay like that for a while – him rocking you while stroking your back and telling you “what an idiot your husband is for treating you so poorly” as you try to compose yourself. And when you do- you pull away a little – looking into his eyes, maping out his face with your eyes. He's handsome – you noticed the first time you've seen him but after each time you've spent together you started appreciating his ruggish handsomeness more and more. You'd never admit it but you've touched yourself at the thought of him a few times – feeling guilty afterward not knowing if your husband was cheating on you. You felt like you were the one cheating after every time you got yourself off at the thought of Tim between your thighs.

“Kiss me.” You whisper as you look at him and he shakes his head – feeling like he would take advantage if he did.

“No, you're in a bad mental state right now and you don't know what you are saying, sweetie.” The nickname of endearment falling from his lips is first and you shake your head in protest – pulling yourself on top of his lap and he doesn't have the strength to stop you as this is something he wanted for a long time too – you were not only a client to him. Not for a long time, anyways. You were smart and funny, and beautiful and he liked you a lot. Even if he really shouldn't feel this way.

“I wanted this for a long time, Tim. Please, just kiss me, will you?” You don't have to tell him thrice, he surges forward to meet your wanting lips and grabs your hips and you start grinding down on him. You moan when you feel him harden under you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours – it's frantic and passionate and you feel him everywhere at once. His hands are pulling your tank top off and he cups your tits when they come into the view – pulling away from the kiss. He starts kissing your cleavage, his hands trying to quickly unclasps the bra if that piece of clothing offended him and you on the other hand try to unbutton his shirt. Getting impatient you huff and he notices – he always does with everything. He slows the pace down and unbuttons the shirt himself while getting distracted multiple times – you're kissing his neck and he moans when he feels you nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear.

When the shirt is finally off you immediately start paying attention to the newfound flesh – kissing and licking a path across his shoulders that you oh, love some much and dragging your tongue lower – circling his nipple with it. He groans and throws his head back – the vein on his neck popping with the movement and you bite him there, soothing it with your tongue. He grinds against your mound and if you keep going he will for sure cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. He pushes against your shoulders softly and you start to protest but he shuts you up with his mouth once again. It's slower and more sensual – his tongue fighting with yours lazily and unhurriedly. He finally unclasps your bra – his greedy eyes taking you in. Palming them in his hands it's your turn to moan and he grins – his thumbs stroking the sensitive nipples. He brings his head to take one into his mouth and you can't do anything else than writhe on him – your hands are in his hair and you massage his scalp. He groans against your bud while the other hand strokes your other tit and you feel like you've gone to heaven and back. You didn't feel this good since – well actually never.

When he is happy with his work – the bitemarks on your tits will leave nasty bruises for a few days for sure – he slowly puts you on the leather couch. You are sweaty and it sticks to your skin but you don't care – not when Tim is trying to get rid of your shorts. You don't wear anything underneath and you swear you can see his eyes goes entirely black – his pupils blown wide and his breathing quick. He lowers himself onto his tummy and you are confused for a second before you realize what he is doing. You try to protest that he doesn't have to but he just “shhh” you. His mouth is on your inner thighs in no time and his beard causes a delicious burn on them. He is slow with it – trying to enjoy every second of it but you are impatient. You tug on his hair and growl – slapping one side of your inner thigh mumbling a quiet “impatient girl” before he licks into you without a warning.

You cry out – your head thrown back and your back arched, the hands that are in his hair grip him tighter and he moans into your cunt with an unspoken agreement for you to keep doing that. Not many men went down on you – certainly not your husband – but Tim looks like he is enjoying this more than you if it is possible. His nose bumps into your clit with every lick – you feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. One of his hands makes its way to your open mouth and he sticks two fingers into it – coating them in your saliva. Pulling them back out he creates a path with them from your mouth to your neck, then under your neck, on your tits, down your tummy and then pressing two of them against your pussy – exchanging his tongue with his fingers while he sucks your clit into his mouth and it doesn't take long before you are cuming, after all, it has been too long since anyone made it seem like their life goal was to make you cum – the moans and cries of his name echoe throughout the living room with the wet sounds of your pussy squeezing his fingers while he fucks you through the aftershocks of it all.

When he finally stops – you have to push his mouth away from you feeling overstimulated – he just grins against you and sits up – balancing himself on his heels while he cleans his fingers humming at your tangy taste on them. You are exhausted and your lashes flutter against your cheeks but you can hear the clang of his belt and his words echoing in your ears: “ We're not done in the slightest, baby.”

You try to wait for him. You do. But your eyes feel heavy – you already ate the dinner you made for the two of you – Tims's favorite meal – lasagna. You put the rest of it along with the portion into the fridge – scribbling a quick note that if he feels hungry the leftovers are in the fridge. You look at the time: 23:03. And that's when your phone dings.

Hi, baby. Don't wait for me, I am still at the office working on that crazy grandma case . Love you, xoxo

You sigh in defeat. No apology, no nothing. You expected it, to be completely honest. He was so wrapped up in this new case he sometimes forgot what his name was. But you felt that he was married to work and not to you – not that you two were married but you get the drill. You understood it, he worked hard for the position he now has and you too are a workaholic yourself – the money you won at the court after the divorce was put into opening your little bakery. But to forget about your 5-year-old anniversary? That seemed over the top. You don’t bother answering him – putting your phone away you put the dirty dishes in the sink – you will wash them tomorrow morning. Keeping his favorite wine on the table in case he will want it when he comes home, you grab the little envelope.

“Seems like it's just me and you again, little bean.” You smile sadly while you caress your stomach – Tim didn't know yet but you hoped you would tell him tonight. Guess not.

As you make your way into the bedroom you lock the door and turn off all the lights. Brushing your teeth and hoping in the shower for a quick wash you think about if you should have kept the envelope on the table – no, you will tell him tomorrow after you won't be mad at him anymore. After drying yourself you tuck yourself in and put the envelope into the drawer on your bedside table. Sleep consumes you quickly – you've felt exhausted for the past couple of days.

Tim comes home long past after midnight. He's exhausted and he just wants to plop on the bed next to you. He puts the keys onto the kitchen counter and wonders in the kitchen – the kitchen lits up when he puts on the flashlight in his camera – you like to sleep with the bedroom doors open and usually wake up if he turns on the lights. He furrows his brows when he sees the wine on the table – the single rose in a small vase in the center of it. He stalks towards it and sees that it's his favorite. And then he sees the dirty dishes and the small note on the fridge – dread takes over him when he sees the date on the calendar and he lowly curses at himself.

He forgot your fucking anniversary. What a fucking moron he is. He ventures into the bedroom to see if you are already asleep – if not he will apologize profusely even when he knows apology won't cut it this time. When he sees you fast asleep he sighs and slowly creeps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The weight of what had done – or more so what he didn't – creeps on him and he decides that he will cook you breakfast tomorrow and take you out somewhere nice – maybe even finally do the thing he'd been dreading to do for over a half a year now. When he is finished brushing his teeth he returns to the bedroom to put his guns away. You are sleeping peacefully even when he turns on the light on his bedside table.

You look so pretty in the dim light. Your hair is sprawled on your pillow and it's too warm in here for you to be covered – he can see your legs and the curve of your ass. He licks his lips and he is not so tired anymore. An idea pops into his head – you've talked about it before but never really tried it – maybe it would be one of the many steps of his apology.

He rolls up his sleeves and slowly makes his way onto your side of the bed. You are a pretty light sleeper and he thinks if you will wake up right in the start or if he can indulge a little. He kicks the covers that surround you and touches your ankle – the touch is light and gentle. His fingers slowly make their way up your thigh stopping on your hip and you jerk a little - you turn onto your back the flimsy tank top you changed into riding higher. Tim grins, slowly sinking onto the mattress. He kisses one of your knees and then the other. Slowly making his way up – he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly tugs – seeing that you have nothing underneath. He always loved that about you. He caresses your thighs and kisses the inner side of both of them – trying if you will wake up he pokes his tongue out but you just mumble something so he keeps up his advances. Creating a path to your core he softly inhales and opens your folds with his thumbs as kisses your clit – you jerk a little but he hooks his palms under your hips to keep you still. His nose bumps against your clit with the first swipe of his tongue and he groans at your taste that he knows oh, so well. His tongue lazily licks into you and he is in no rush – enjoying the slow pace he slowly grinds his pants-clad hips against the mattress. It's not enough but he doesn't mind. Sneaking one of his hands away from underneath your hips he pushes one of his fingers in – you are soaked even though he barely touched you and he loves the fact that you are always so ready for him. You mewl softly and start to stir but he stops when your breathing gets even again he pushes two fingers inside of you.

The only sounds that can be heard are his harsh takes of breath and the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers in – his mouth is now more relentless and so are his hips as he humps the mattress. His fingers curl and he tries to find the spot that makes you make such a pretty noise for him and when your breath hitches he knows he found it. He kisses your clit and starts setting a quicker phase. The tip of his tongue now flicks against your clit quickly. He can feel you start squeezing him and he moans when he feels your hands tug on his hair – the quiet “Tim” from your lips effortlessly. He mumbles a quick “good morning” even though it's not even 3 am yet.

You are right on the edge and when he adds a third finger it's all over for you. Your back arches and you cry out – his plush lips kiss your clit to work you through it and when he finally stops he pushes his cock out of his pants – stroking his dick with the hand that was in you just a few seconds ago. You are still sleepy and try to get a sense of what is happening but before you can think about it Tim is kissing you and notching the weeping head of his cock against your entrance.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Can I fuck you silly?” You nod and he enters you with one quick swift of his hips – you can feel his balls against your ass and he tries to push even deeper. It's too much for your sleep-tired brain and you need to hold onto something – so you grab his shoulder holsters – they are cold and feel smooth against your palms and when you look up at Tim he snarls. “Yeah, hold onto me, baby.” And then he is pounding into you. The head of him pushes against your g-spot and he angles his hips just right. You can feel every ridge and vein of him and you feel him pulse in you – knowing that he won't last long. He grabs one of your ankles and puts it on his shoulder – you always said to him that shoulders like that were made for leg rest. With this new angle, he feels even deeper and you close your eyes – it feels so fucking good, his pubic hair is scraping against your clit and the gentles with hich he kisses your ankle while mumbling how “good of a girl you are for him” makes your heart ache with love for him.

He can feel you starting to squeeze around him and he bends so he can spit onto your pussy – it makes you cry out when you feel the wet press of his fingers on your clit. His are relentless and the sweat rolling off his forehead is making its way down his neck – his vein on it is popped and you'd like to bite it. The slap of his balls is lewd and the way he says your name – ordering you to be “good girl and cum for me” is making your head dizzy. It just two or so more thrusts before you are clamping down on his length and he moans – grabbing him by the neck you kiss him and start sucking on his neck – right under the himge of his jaw– and then he is cuming too – his forehead pressed up against yours. His hips try to push the cum deep inside of you and when he stops he falls next to your side, bringing you closer to him and caressing your spine.

“You think it worked this time?” You are still hazy from the orgasm, listening to his heartbeat slowing down and you just hum in question so he repeats it for you – you don't think about it too much and reach for your nightstand drawer putting the envelope you hid there into his hands.

He opens it reluctantly and when he sees what's in there he can't contain his smiles and the few happy tears that spring out of his eyes.

“You serious? We're going to have a baby?” He laughs with joy and you caress his cheek – kissing the patch on his beard and then soothing it with your thumb

“Serious as I can be, babe. We're going to be parents.” you grin and he kisses you – smiling into the kiss and he thinks about the box in his suit jacket that has a small and elegant diamond ring in it.

He will propose to you tomorrow, take you out on a picnic or something. Yeah, he will do that.

#pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford smut #tim rockford merge mansion #merge mansion

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nyctoaerah · 2 months

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⋆♱⋆WISH GRANTED CH: 1

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS In which, you, a workaholic grade A detective has been investigating about multiple murder cases, found out that your boyfriend has been seeing your best friend behind your back. And due to your anger, you accidentally wished for your ex boyfriend and ex best friend to die—and they did end up dying. her boyfriend and best friend was found dead and brutally killed. and the person who did it was the same serial killer she was looking for, and no matter what her wish is, he ends up granting it in the most twisted way possible

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS Infidelity, Death, Yandere Behaviors (duh) Other triggering stuff.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆NOTE Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3.

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

TAKING OUT A PICTURE of someone who was reported missing from your briefcase, you smoothly placed it on the table. With a quick movement, you grabbed a red marker from your briefcase and decisively drew a bold ‘x’ across the person’s face.

“Another missing person that got killed,”

You let out a weary sigh as your eyes remained focused on Jhenicca, your closest confidant and fellow detective. Both of you were dedicated to solving crimes together, forming an inseparable partnership in the field. However, it was important to note that you held a higher rank and possessed more experience in comparison to your junior colleague, Jhenicca.

Jhenicca’s brows creased as her emerald green eyes bore into your [E/c] ones.

“Seriously? Another one?”

Jhenicca let out a deep, anguished groan expressing her displeasure at the fact that an increasing number of individuals were disappearing, only to be discovered lifeless later on.

“Yeah, seriously.” You uttered those words, your face devoid of any emotion.

“Ah, well, it doesn't really matter anyway.” Jhenicca uttered in a low voice, her eyes wandering aimlessly, diverting her attention from yours.

“Just give the damn information, [N/n]” Jhenicca asked for the necessary information and specifics during your conversation. You set the red marker down, signaling the start of a conversation that was about to take a somber turn.

“The victim was named Katarina Smith. She vanished four days ago after entering a forrest. Her lifeless body was discovered in an abandoned building inside the forrest,"

You revealed the information. As an exceptional and highly skilled investigator, you were entrusted with leading the inquiry into the mysterious disappearances, wherein the victims were consistently discovered with horrifying injuries or their vital organs, such as the kidneys, inexplicably gone. This disturbing pattern of events has persisted over the course of the last four months, leaving you feeling increasingly weary and overwhelmed due to the sheer volume of cases being assigned to you.

“We can go to the crime scene later and look for some evidence.”

You suggested and jhenicca nodded solemnly.

“So what do we know about the previous victims?” Jhenicca questioned you as her brows knitted, obviously disturbed.

You reached into your briefcase once again and pulled out a file containing the information you had gathered so far.

“There have been fifteen victims before Katarina,”

You began, flipping through the pages. “All of them went missing under similar circumstances—last seen entering a forrest, and then found dead on different sides of the Forrest.”

“Fifteen.”

Jhenicca breathed out and slammed her fist on your table, creating a loud banging sound and you sighed in exasperation, placing your hand on your forehead as your brows creased and your jaw locked.

“I know, i know.”

You mumbled, exasperated.

“Fifteen fucking people have been going missing for about 4 months now and we still can’t fucking get a single trace or clue about the perpetrator!”

Jhennica’s seethed with anger, clearly expressing her deep disappointment regarding the sluggishness of your progress. However, it is hard to deny her feelings, as you yourself are also disappointed with the current situation.

“Calm down.”

You tried to calm her down.

“What do you mean calm down?”

Jhenicca glared at you, running a hand through her blond locks.

“[Name]! We can’t go around relaxing when people are going missing and dying!”

Jhenicca exclaimed, causing you to feel increasingly frustrated. However, despite your annoyance, you made an effort to maintain your composure. Deep down, you acknowledged that Jhenicca had a valid point. It wasn’t as if you were idly lounging around; in reality, you had been pushing yourself to the limit, tirelessly working nonstop in order to achieve any sort of progress—And you were tired, so fucking tired.

Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh, massaging your temples with your fingertips to alleviate the mounting tension.

“I know, i know” You spoke incoherently and indistinctly, barely making any audible sounds. “However, it is essential for you to regain composure initially, for it will enable us to thoroughly evaluate the circumstances at hand and make an accurate assessment."”

With a slightly narrowed gaze and furrowed brows, you expressed to her, causing Jhenicca to let out an exasperated huff and divert her gaze from you.

“Calm down my ass,”

She mumbles.

You experienced a sudden involuntary contraction in your eye, causing it to twitch.

“Cease behaving in such an immature and obstinate manner, don’t be a fucking brat” Feeling exasperated by her obnoxious behavior, you let out a disapproving sound while your level of professionalism momentarily dissipates. Jhenicca, in response, disdainfully looks away, disregarding your reaction.

“Fuck you.”

She glared at you.

“Fuck you too.”

Jhenicca releases a sarcastic laugh, displaying her annoyance towards the unexpected and abrupt eruption of emotions from you.

“Okay, whatever, but we still need to find any pattern or connection between these victims,”

Jhenicca made a suggestion, her voice hinting at a lingering annoyance. In response, you scornfully chuckled, casting your gaze downwards.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you took in a deep breath before quietly uttering a small apology for your earlier outburst.

However, Jhenicca breezed past your apology, choosing to disregard it completely as she proceeded with her speech.

“Do you think it could provide us with valuable clues regarding the murderer's identity? Is there anything notable connecting all of the victims that you've observed?” she asked.

Once you regained a sense of inner tranquility, you visibly expressed your agreement by giving a reassuring nod. Resting your hand gently upon your chin, you directed your gaze towards Jhenicca, deep in thought.

“The victims share several similarities among themselves. Firstly, they all belong to the young adult age group, specifically individuals in their twenties. Secondly, they had a common habit of visiting and spending time in the same forest. Lastly, their disappearances occurred exclusively during the weekends, further emphasizing this pattern of occurrence.” You provided a clear explanation.

“Based on the autopsy reports, it seems that their kidneys were removed post-mortem, suggesting a potential organ trafficking angle. However, the brutality of the killings indicates a possibly cannibalistic tendencies as well.”

You have provided an explanation regarding the reason behind those individuals having their organs removed. It is feasible to consider the possibility of a cannibal being involved, particularly since you had previously delved into the topic through various cannibal documentaries during your college years.

“We need to gather more evidence and dig deeper into the victims' backgrounds.”

You said, tapping on your chin.

“We need to find any connections they might have had, both among themselves and with potential suspects. We’ll also increase surveillance on houses that are close in that forrest, for they frequented in the hope of catching any suspicious activities.”

You informed and you were taken aback when, out of nowhere, the entrance to your workspace abruptly swung ajar, unveiling the presence of your beloved partner, Earl.

Earl is also a skilled investigator who happens to be employed within the same institution as you. He had a pile of papers held in one hand while balancing some cups of refreshing iced coffee in his other hand.

“Good morning, Love”he greeted with a pleasant tone, his words carrying warmth and friendliness. With a gleeful expression, he curved his lips upward, directing his gaze towards Jhenicca with the intention of acknowledging her presence as he nodded approvingly.

“Good morning to you too!”Jhenicca extended a warm welcome. You let out a frustrated breath and directed your gaze towards Earl.

“Kindly knock on the door to gain permission before stepping inside the room.” Shaking your head in dismay, you expressed your disapproval through scolding, while Earl nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, revealing his indifference.

“* apologize for the interruption, but I have something of utmost significance to share,” your partner apologized politely, presenting you with a substantial collection of documents and carefully arranging them on the surface of your desk.

“Really?” Jhenicca’s eyelids fluttered momentarily, as a reflexive response to stimuli.

“What is the matter?”

You inquired, fixating your gaze directly into the deep, mahogany irises of Earl.

“There has been an increase in the number of individuals who have disappeared, and upon closer examination, it is evident that the specifics align with the characteristics observed in the previous instances.”

As your eyes briefly skimmed across the pile of documents placed right in front of you, a complex blend of unease and exasperation manifested on your face.

The news you were presently receiving was far from ideal, pushing against your desire for a different outcome, particularly since you and your diligent team had invested an immense amount of time and effort into probing the perplexing string of disappearances that had preceded this moment. Jhenicca, noticing the identical emotional response on her own countenance, mirrored your sentiments precisely upon digesting the given information.

“Anyways, i brought some coffee for you, love,” As you observed, Earl gently placed the refreshing iced coffee onto your desk, and a sense of appreciation washed over you, causing a grateful smile to adorn your face while simultaneously feeling a soothing wave of relaxation engulfing your being.

“Thanks love—”

You initiated speaking, however, Jhenicca interjected, causing you to immediately cease speaking and keeping your lips sealed.

“No coffee for me? I’m feeling left out you know?” Jhenicca’s eyebrow arched in amusement as she voiced her playful disappointment regarding the lack of coffee being offered to her. As you observed the situation, a flicker of surprise crossed your face, signaling that you were starting to grasp the peculiarly close bond between Jhenicca and your boyfriend. A peculiar sense of discomfort started to take hold of you, yet you struggled to identify the exact source of this unease.

‘Since where were they this close?’

You pondered quietly as you watched the two interact.

Earl couldn’t help but chuckle in response to Jhenicca’s witty remark, as he placed yet another refreshing iced coffee on the desk, hoping to soothe her slight disappointment expressed through her adorable pouting expression.

With a wide smile, he uttered,

“Here, don’t sulk.” Jhenicca beamed with happiness as she conveyed her appreciation. Earl emitted a light-hearted laughter, brushing off the situation, which left you with an indescribable sense of being left out, lingering persistently within you. Earl comfortably took his place on the nearby chair, gently resting his head on your shoulder as he curiously asked,

“Anyway, love, Can you provide an update on the current status of the situation? Have there been any advancements in identifying and apprehending the person responsible for the incident?”

He asked and as you were preparing to articulate a response, Jhenicca abruptly interjected once more, causing a subtle expression of displeasure to form on your face. It became increasingly apparent that since Earl’s arrival, Jhenicca had consistently been interrupting your attempts to contribute to the conversation.

“Welllll”

Jhenicca said, making sure to stretch the word.

“Nope!”

Jhenicca’s wide grin appeared on her face, attempting to portray an endearing demeanor that caused you to cringe internally; she resembled someone who was seeking attention—a fucking pick me.

It would have been more appropriate for her to exhibit a serious demeanor, considering the gravity of the topic at hand. It perplexed you how she could switch from being angered to acting as cheerful as a ray of sunshine. The sudden shift in her behavior left you contemplating whether to request her to remain silent and allow you to express yourself, but you opted to restrain from doing so.

“Unfortunately, we’ve been giving it our all, but we haven’t found any leads,”

You finally explained with a sigh and Earl frowned once he heard that information, he felt disappointed.

You then took a deep breath.

“However, I do have a theory. It’s possible that the serial killer is also a cannibal.”

Earl blinked in disbelief, but he considered the idea.

“Really? That’s quite an unexpected twist.”

Before you could elaborate and explain all the details about your theory, jhenicca interjected once more so you just chose to remain silent, a tinge of annoyance crossed your expression but it quickly disappeared.

“I agree! I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Jhenicca said.

“Ah right! Do you know that there are similarities between the victims?”

Jhenicca began to converse with your boyfriend and as you sipped on your refreshing iced coffee, Earl glanced in your direction, expressing his acknowledgement through a subtle nod. Soon after, the two individuals initiated a conversation which took a meandering path, encompassing diverse topics.

However, a significant portion of their discussion revolved around the various homicide cases you had been diligently investigating. As you attentively observed Jhenicca and Earl engrossed in their dialogue, it became apparent that a strong connection existed between them. Unexpectedly, the serenity of the moment was abruptly disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing, breaking the tranquility in the air. Jhenicca’s eyes blinked, briefly closing and opening again.

“I thought you had your phone on do not disturb?”Jhenicca inquired, and you shook your head.

“Not quite. As a detective, every call or text holds significance, you should be aware of that,” you responded, slightly exasperated. Setting your coffee aside, you retrieved your phone from your pocket, and your eyes widened as you read the message. your eyes suddenly lit up and a faint smile made its way to your face.

Finally, an evidence, after four fucking months, there was finally an evidence.

“Ouch, so harsh.”

Jhenicca's expression turned into a pout at your stern words.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, caused by the tone she adopted. Normally, she spoke to you in a different manner, but this time it was almost childlike, which bothered you without any clear explanation as to why she was behaving that way.

Earl curiously asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s the headquarters. They’ve discovered some evidence at the crime scene,” you informed, and Earl hummed thoughtfully.

“That’s wonderful.”

Earl said with a smile.

“Really? That’s an excellent news!” Jhenicca beamed

“Yes, I’m glad too”

You replied with a closed eyed smile

Then suddenly, a phone call interrupted,you looked at your phone to see who called and it was the headquarters, perhaps they had something important to say and you couldn’t risk missing it.

“The headquarters is on the line,” you announced.

“Oh.”

Earl seemed disappointed since he wanted to talk to you more while jhenicca didn't have a reaction.

“I need to have a private conversation with them, so I’ll leave you two here,” you informed, gently shifting Earl’s head from your shoulder before standing up.

You planted a tender kiss on Earl's cheek, eliciting a smile from him.

“I won’t take long, don’t worry.”

You reassured him because you saw his disappointed face and Earl’s face lit up from your words.

“Alright, Stay safe,” Earl said, returning your smile as you made your way towards the office exit.

However, from the corner of your eye, you caught Earl discreetly wiping off the kiss, causing a frown to form on your face. And the way Jhenicca glanced at your boyfriend was different, stirring a sense of unease within you.

Your intuition was telling you that something was wrong.

Tension pervaded the atmosphere within your office, akin to an unuttered secret that lingered ever since your departure to answer the call from the headquarters. Earl’s face carried the weight of guilt, mirroring the guilty conscience that resided within him, while Jhenicca appeared unbothered, portraying an effortless and carefree demeanor that juxtaposed the tension.

It was astonishing to earl that he and jhenicca had embarked on this path. The hidden relationship between him and Jhenicca had been going on clandestinely for a significant period of nine months. Initially, it had been a mere coincidence, encounter in a bar where their paths crossed unexpectedly. However, as fate would have it, the influence of alcohol led them to hook up that night. From that moment, their connection deepened, and it evolved into an ongoing affair, causing Earl to experience overwhelming guilt for cheating on you.

“We are truly betraying [Name] by engaging in secret meetings,” Earl whispered, causing Jhenicca to recline comfortably in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk without a care, even if it meant potentially crushing important documents beneath her soles.

With a piercing gaze, she interrogated, “Between the two of us—Me and [Name], whom do you love more? Me or her?"

Feeling his throat tighten, Earl mustered the courage to respond, “You.”

Jhenicca let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration apparent as she exclaimed,

“Then what’s the big deal? We love each other, don’t we? Don’t worry, [Name] will never find out.”

...

As their conversation fell upon your ears, tears began to well up in your eyes, their meaning hitting you with full force. Suddenly, everything started to make sense. Their closeness, the way Jhenicca gazed at Earl with adoration, it was all clear now. They had been hiding their secret involvement from you, deceiving you right under your nose. The pain that came rushing over you was nearly unbearable, as the person you once loved and cherished had betrayed you with none other than your best friend. The mere thought of Jhenicca turning out to be a backstabber had never even crossed your mind. Clenching your fists tightly, you fought against the overwhelming urge to burst into the room, confront them both, and scream at them.

In that moment, your heart seemed to shatter into innumerable fragments, completely consumed by an uncontrollable whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, and most of all, a profound feeling of betrayal.

As you clutched your chest, your face contorted with pain, the weight of their conversation pierced your heart like a sharp knife. Earlier, you had received a brief call from headquarters, urgently instructing you to gather important documents and return to your office. Obediently, you started making your way back, determined to fulfill your responsibilities. However, fate had different plans for you that day. Along the corridor, their familiar voices reached your ears, luring you in with an irresistible curiosity. Against your better judgment, you couldn’t resist the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Little did you know, the words exchanged between them would shatter your heart into countless irreparable shards.

The shock and disbelief hit you like a ton of brick. Anger immediately surged within you, a fiery mix of self-blame for not recognizing the signs sooner and directed towards those who had so callously betrayed you. It was all becoming too much to bear.

Overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions, tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably. The pain you felt was indescribable, as if your entire world had come crashing down in an instant. Without a second thought, you hastily abandoned the familiar surroundings of the police station, leaving your colleagues behind. Although they called out to you with genuine concern, their voices only seemed like distant echoes in your ears.

Racing through the chaos of your own thoughts and emotions, you let instinct guide your trembling steps. The city streets blurred into a haze as you hurriedly made your way through the crowd. Every footfall was a desperate attempt to escape the anguish that threatened to consume you entirely. People glanced in your direction, their curious gazes fleeting, yet you were oblivious to their existence. All that mattered at that moment was finding solace.

Filled with a potent blend of frustration and exasperation, you hastily made your way towards the vast expanse of the parking lot, an irrefutable reflection of your inner turmoil. As your trembling hands grasped tightly onto the cold metal of your car keys, a surge of determination propelled you to forcefully insert the key into the lock, unleashing a resounding ‘click.’

Seeking solace within the confined space, you were driven to hastily enter your vehicle, forcefully slamming the door shut with an air of finality. Unchecked tears cascaded down your face, a poignant manifestation of the amalgamation of anger and heartbreak that tightly gripped your soul. “Can’t believe i’m so fucking dumb that i didn’t even get the hint,”

“I helped you, i was there for you, and this is your way of showing gratitude?” you exclaimed with sheer rage, your jaw clenched and your hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. The deluge of intense feelings engulfed every fiber of your being, causing your eyes to well up with tears as you were overcome by an inconsolable fit of sobbing.

“After two fucking years of our love story, you threw it all away as if it held no value or significance?” You were consumed with intense anger and frustration, directing all the blame towards jhenicca. Your anger escalated to such a level that it led you to harbor a desire for something that, upon reflection, you didn’t knew you would later deeply regret.

“I wish you two die in a painful way.”

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

You eventually drive away and returned home, consumed by anger, and unleashed your fury by destroying everything in sight: vases, picture frames, and the gifts Earl had given you. You smashed the vases, threw them on the ground and the wall, tore the pictures apart and ripped the gifts to shreds, you even trew your chair on the ground, and The room was now littered with shattered remnants of your rampage.

After four hours of relentless tears, your eyes were swollen and dry, leaving you devoid of any more tears to shed. Your throat felt parched, and fatigue washed over you, making you drowsy. Your break down caused too many destruction. And In the midst of this overwhelming exhaustion, your phone rang.

you grimaced.

“Probably that cheating bastards.” you muttered angrily, retrieving your phone and reluctantly opening it. The harsh light caused you to wince, but to your relief, it wasn't Jhenicca or Earl on the other end, but rather the headquarters.

With a mix of apprehension and frustration, you answered the call. A chill coursed down your spine as you listened to what they had to say.

“Your Boyfriend and Best friend was found dead.”

#ᯓ★Aerah’s works!#ᯓ★Y!EJ; Wish Granted #yandere x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x you #dark themes #cw: gore #dark yandere

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kwanisms · 1 year

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The Library of Illusion — Amateur Sleuth

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➮ noir P.I!Jongho × fem!Reader wc: 7.9k summary: The crime/mystery section transports Y/N into a dark hallway with flickering fluorescent lights and doors with frosted glass. One door, the only one left ajar, has gold paint that reads CJ: Private Eye and with the door already open, what else is there to do? genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, crime, mystery, suspense; non idol au, private detective au, private investigator au, noir crime au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of infidelity and dog fighting, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: this went in a different direction than I planned but I’m not complaining. I figured I’d leave the horror in the horror section and not include a crime scene and settled for the generic ‘wife hires a P.I. cause she thinks her husband is cheating but turns out to be something else entirely.’ Thank you so much for reading this installment of the Library of Illusion series and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, doll), very mild degradation, mention of previous sexual encounters, multiple orgasms (f receiving), multiple rounds, creampie, and I think that’s everything. Please let me know if I missed anything.

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“How was your trip back in time?”

You walked over to the desk, holding out the key for Seonghwa to take.

He looked up from the key to you before slowly taking it. “The lord’s advisors wanted to execute me,” you replied as Seonghwa put the key away, shutting the box softly. “But they didn’t,” Seonghwaa replied as he looked up from the box to meet your gaze. Your eyes narrowed. “But they wanted to.”

Seonghwa said nothing, merely holding your gaze.

Moments passed as you had a stare down with the man behind the desk before you finally broke. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me where I want to go next?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

The tension in the room was so thick as Seonghwa took a moment to process what you said, still staring at you with an unreadable expression. Sensing he wasn’t going to move until you did, you finally broke the silence.

“Alright then, I’ll visit the crime section next,” you said, turning away from him and making your way to the door, passing the dark sign for the science fiction section and to the lit up sign for the crime and mystery section.

Turning to face Seonghwa, you watched as he begrudgingly got up, made his way over slowly, pulling out his keys and picked out the right one. “You’re sure about this?” he asked as he reached you, hesitating to look up at you.

You nodded, determined to get through the next trial and get the key. Monsters and aliens were one thing but your only experience with men so far in the Library had been a walk in the park compared to your trial in both the science fiction and horror sections.

“I’m sure,” you answered. Seonghwa said nothing more as he unlocked the door, turning the knob and opening the door.

“Remember,” he said softly as you stepped past him.

“Be careful. The horror section was one thing but this is the crime section.” You glanced back at him, meeting his eyes as they flashed red for a brief moment. “I’ll be okay,” you answered. “If I can handle aliens, spider creatures, and bloodthirsty advisors of a feudal lord, I think I can handle this.”

Seonghwa nodded and shut the door behind you, leaving you alone in the shelves as you headed down the long dark corridor.

Each section had changed and morphed as you headed further and you could only imagine and wonder which direction this section would take you.

As you continued to walk, your boots echoing on the wooden floor, you spotted something in the distance; a light. Your steps sped up, wanting to get through the corridor as fast as you could. The light didn’t seem to grow any closer as you walked and you wondered if it was a trick.

This was the crime and mystery section so it didn’t seem likely that it was some sort of trick of the light or anything like that but then again, you never knew. This was the Library of Illusion after all.

After a couple more minutes, you noticed that the light seemed to be growing in size. Relief flooded your senses as you continued to walk closer and closer to the light.

As you drew nearer, you realized it was a doorway. The light was inside the doorway and soon, you discovered it was an elevator. Inside the box was a simple lever and a gate. You stepped inside and closed the grate before turning to look at the lever. Glancing around you saw there were no buttons.

Placing your hand on the lever, you took a deep breath and pulled it towards you. The elevator jolted before starting to ascend. The only light was the dim one above you that flickered occasionally as the lift climbed in whatever building you were in.

You waited for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes when the elevator finally arrived at a floor, the blackness of the wall before you opening up to reveal a hallway. The lift dinged as it stopped and you were clear to open the grate.

Pulling it back, you peered out of the open doorway before stepping out into the hallway. It wasn’t nearly as long as the other one. The walls were a simple yellow paint, sort of dingy and faded. Clearly this was an old building. As you walked down the hall towards another light, the green carpet dulling your steps, you caught sight of two other doors with frosted glass windows.

“What is this place?” you whispered as you stopped to inspect one of the doors. Trying the handle, you found it was locked. With an annoyed huff, you continued to the door where the light was coming from.

Finally reaching the door, you discovered it was ajar and you pushed it open carefully, peering through the crack. It was empty save for some furniture. Opening the door more, you stepped into the room, surveying it carefully.

The carpet was the same green as the hall and the walls the same yellow paint. There was a dark wood desk in the center of the room covered with scattered papers and other desk decor. There was a high back leather chair behind the desk.

The walls were lined with bookcases and filing cabinets, each full of papers and books. As you walked into the room, you started to look around further. The books on the shelves varied from languages to cracking ciphers.

As you started to reach for one of the books, you heard footsteps and turned as the door was thrown open fully and shut as a man entered the room, locking the door and huffing as if he’d run a marathon. You froze, eyes wide as he turned from the door and his eyes met yours, looking just as shocked.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Uh,” you replied, lowering your hand. “I’m Y/N,” you answered turning to face him fully.

You watched as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small revolver. “Whoa,” you said, holding your hands up. “There’s no need for that!”

You eyed him as he aimed the gun, keeping it trained on you.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “How did you get in?”

You eyed the gun nervously. You’d never had a gun drawn on you before.

“The door was unlocked and the light was on. I came in to see if anyone was here,” you answered. The man gave you a suspicious look. “Who do you work for?” he asked suddenly. You shook your head, shrugging.

“No one.” you answered. “I’m not a spy or something. I don’t even know where I am,” you added.

The man held you at gunpoint as he started to inspect the room. “If I find anything missing,” he warned as he started to search. “Go ahead,” you replied. “I have nothing to hide.”

You watched as he searched the whole office, checking all the drawers on the desk as well as the shelves.

When he was satisfied nothing was missing, he holstered the gun. “What’s your name, again?” He asked as he moved to stand before you. “Y/N,” you answered. “And you are?”

He looked up to meet your gaze. “CJ,” he answered. “I’m a private investigator.”

You looked around the office again and it suddenly made sense. The papers, the bulletin board with the pins and red thread. “How did you get here?” CJ asked, you turned your attention back to him. “I walked,” you answered plainly.

“I followed a hallway to an elevator and took the lift up. It brought me to this hallway,” you continued to explain. The man’s eyes narrowed.

“And how did you end up in that hallway?”

Deciding it would be better to play it safe, you told him everything. How you got into the hall, the Library, your quest, all of it save for the intimate details.

CJ listened with mild curiosity as you explained how you ended up in his office.

“I know it sounds outrageous,” you said as he stared back at you. “But I promise it’s the truth.”

You waited for him to respond, watching as he seemingly thought over your words thus far. Finally he nodded. “I’ve heard crazier stories,” he replied. “And they ended up being true, so this doesn’t seem entirely unlikely.”

You relaxed, glad he took your explanation at face value. If it hadn’t been for an introduction of a gun, you never would have told another soul about the Library but you weren’t going to take any chances when a firearm was involved.

“Now what?” you asked after a beat of silence, watching as he moved to take a seat behind the desk. It was only now that you got a good look at him. When he entered, he’d been wearing a long tan coat but under that he wore a white button down with dark khaki pants and thick black suspenders.

CJ looked up at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. You glanced around the room. “Do I just leave?” you asked. “Or do I stay? Like, what now?”

CJ shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

“I need to find that key,” you replied. “That’s the reason I’m here.”

CJ nodded quickly, leaning forward. “Right, right,” he said. “The key.”

You watched as he leaned over, pulling open a desk drawer and pulled out a folded piece of cloth. He set it on top of the desk and pulled back the material.

You gasped, drawing his attention.

Inside the cloth was a key, made of the same metal and with its own insignia just like the other three keys. “Are you the Guardian?” you asked as CJ looked up at you. “Guardian? I don’t know about that,” he answered as you moved forward to get a closer look at the key.

Just as quickly as he produced it, CJ covered the key and placed it back inside the desk drawer. “I found it,” he admitted as he locked the drawer, pocketing the key in his right pocket. “Figured it was some sort of antique and I might be able to sell it.”

A frown settled on your face. “Sell it? For how much?” CJ pondered for a moment before answering. “I’m not entirely sure. See, I didn’t know what it was for. What it opened or if it even went to anything. It could have been a dud but now that I know it opens something, I’m more inclined to see what it opens.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s possible,” you replied. “Seonghwa would never allow it.” CJ tilted his head, watching you with his dark eyes. “Seonghwa? Ah, the Keeper of Keys?” You nodded in reply.

“He’s sort of a stickler for the rules.”

CJ nodded slowly as he thought for a moment. “Tell you what, doll,” he said suddenly, sitting up straight. “How about we make a deal?”

Ignoring the pet name, you narrowed your eyes. “A deal?”

CJ nodded before speaking. “You help me with this case and I’ll pay you with the key.”

You glanced at the desk before looking back up at him.

“What sort of case?”

The case, it turned out, was a cheating husband. CJ had been paid by the wife to find irrefutable proof that her husband was cheating on her so she could divorce him and take everything. You weren’t entirely against the idea but you did question your safety which prompted CJ to ask if you had experience with guns.

When you shook your head, he clicked his tongue but got up anyway and headed to one of the bookcases, pulling a book which turned out to be a secret lever that released a locking mechanism and allowed him to push the book aside to reveal a safe in the wall.

Behind the safe door was a small fortune in gold and a few choice weapons. He didn’t trust you with a gun as you had no experience but he was more than willing to loan you a twelve inch fixed knife which you now had strapped to your hip.

The pair of you then headed out as he explained that he’d learned the routine of his target and knew where he was going to be tonight but you weren’t dressed for the occasion. That was how you followed CJ upstairs to his flat, watching as he dug through his closet and pulled out a dress and shoes for you to change into.

You'd initially turned that down so instead he compromised. You’d wear the dress while he’d stuff your clothes and boots into a small satchel. You didn’t like the idea of wearing the red sequined dress but once it was on, you couldn’t deny that it looked really good. You borrowed one of his coats and then the two of you were on your way to a club in the city.

Inside the club was something out of a movie. If it had been any other situation, you would have tried to enjoy the atmosphere but you were undercover and couldn’t afford distractions.

Once inside the club, you and CJ made your way over to a seat in the corner so CJ could keep an eye on his target. You finally got a glimpse of the man. He was tall with dark hair, wearing a dark navy blue suit. He looked like a regular guy and so ordinary. You half expected some kind of shifty villain but reminded yourself this wasn’t a movie.

CJ ordered two drinks and not long after they arrived. You sipped yours sparingly, while noticing CJ didn’t even touch his. “If you don’t drink it, you’re gonna look suspicious,” you said quietly. “I don’t drink,” he replied. “Clouds my judgment.”

You stared blankly at him. “Then why order it?” you asked. He turned his head to look at you briefly. “Because it looks weird if I don’t,” he replied. “Now stop distracting me.” You shook your head.

“It looks more suspicious if you order a drink and don’t drink it,” you said, pushing the martini towards him. “One drink isn’t going to kill you.”

CJ pushed the drink away. “I. Don’t. Drink.” With a huff, you downed the rest of your drink and set the empty glass on the seat next to you before taking his. “What are you—” he began but you cut him off.

“I told you,” you answered, taking the olive out of the cup. “It looks more suspicious to order a drink and not drink it. Makes it look like you’re trying too hard to fit in.”

CJ watched as you sucked the olive off the toothpick before looking away.

“And stop staring,” you added as you lifted the glass and took a sip.

“You’re being obvious.”

CJ groaned softly and gave you an annoyed look.

“How am I supposed to do my job then?”

You sighed, setting the glass down and turned to him. “First of all, take off your coat. You look like you’re about to dart out the door at any second.” CJ slowly shrugged his coat off, draping it over the satchel.

You caught a passing waiter and quietly asked for a virgin martini without the olive. He nodded and made his way to the bar, returning shortly with the drink and set it on the table. Thanking him, you pushed the drink towards CJ who glared at you.

“I don’t—”

“It’s a mocktail,” you interrupted. He glanced at the drink and back. “A what?"

“It’s not real alcohol. It’s a fake cocktail.”

CJ picked up the drink and sniffed it.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Just drink it.”

He took a sip and made a face. “That’s disgusting,” he whined. You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of his old drink. “Then don’t order martinis,” you answered.

The two of you sat in silence, sipping your drinks. You occasionally snuck glances at the target while reminding CJ to stop staring. “He’s going to catch on if you don’t stop it.”

CJ grumbled as he finished his mocktail. “That was revolting,” he huffed. You rolled your eyes again. As the waiter came by, he asked if you’d like another. You nodded. “Instead of the virgin martini, can we get a virgin Manhattan?” you asked, to which he nodded with a smile and took your empty glasses.

“Now what did you order?”

You turned to look at CJ. “You didn’t like that martini, so I got you something else,” you answered. He stared at you for a moment before turning to look at the target.

You looked up and noticed some of the men looking your way. ‘Shit.’

As the waiter returned with your drinks, you thanked him and turned CJ’s attention away from the men. “Try this,” you said, setting the drink in front of him. He looked down at it. “What is it?” he asked as you picked up your martini.

“A virgin Manhattan. No alcohol and it probably tastes a lot better than the martini.”

He picked up the drink and took a sip. “You’re right,” he said, looking mildly surprised. “This is much better.”

You relaxed as he took another sip. Several of the men sitting with the target were now looking in your direction. You downed the rest of your drink and got up, moving to grab CJ’s hand and pull him up.

“What are you doing?” He hissed as you pulled him from the table and onto the dance floor. “The men at the table are watching us. You’re being too obvious,” you said as you placed one of his hands on your hip and took the other in yours.

“Just dance with me for a couple songs,” you instructed as you both fell into the rhythm of the music. “Let them forget we’re here and then we’ll go back.”

CJ was a surprisingly good dancer and you were thankful, otherwise this might have drawn more attention.

“Where did you learn to dance?” you asked as he spun you. “My mother,” he answered. “She used to wake me up on Saturday mornings with the radio and we’d dance while she made breakfast.”

You smiled at him. “That’s really sweet,” you replied. “Do you still see her?”

CJ shook his head. “She passed away last year.” The smile on your face dropped. “I’m sorry CJ,” you answered. Silence fell over the two of you as you continued to dance.

“Jongho.”

You looked up at him, mildly startled. His eyes met yours. “My name is Jongho,” he continued. “Choi Jongho.” Your lips spread into another smile.

“That explains CJ,” you replied, taking note of the small smile on his face.

When you were sure the men at the table had forgotten about you and Jongho, you led him over to the bar to order two new drinks. “I still have a drink at the table,” he said as you waved the bartender down.

“First rule of drinking at a club,” you said after telling the bartender your order and turning to look at Jongho. “Never leave your drink unattended and come back to drink it. Someone could have slipped something into it.”

You thanked the bartender as he handed your drinks over. You handed Jongho his drink and led him back to the table. His drink had been picked up by a server but you didn’t want to take any chances.

When you arrived back at the table, you switched the seating.

“Sit here,” you whispered, lightly kicking the chair across from yours. Jongho looked up at you confused. “But I can’t see them if I sit here,” he answered. You nodded. “Exactly,” you replied. “But I can.”

He hesitated, looking like he was about to argue but he surprisingly took the seat.

“If we lose them,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m blaming you.”

Luckily, you didn’t lose them. Instead, you made Jongho tell you everything he had about the target up to the present point. You wanted to know everything he did, everyone he saw, everywhere he went.

You were nursing your martini while he finished his drink when you saw the men get up. “They’re moving,” you whispered. Jongho moved to turn his head but you reached forward, grabbing his hand and drawing his attention.

“Don’t make it obvious. Just let them go, we’ll follow shortly.”

To your surprise, Jongho fell into the act, taking your hand in his and looking down at it as the target continued to move through the club. You watched as Jongho got up and moved into the seat next to you, still holding your hand in his.

“How do you know so much about tailing someone?” he asked softly, looking up to meet your gaze. You took another sip of your drink. “I watch a lot of movies,” you replied, not noticing the confused look on his face.

“What are movies?”

You wracked your brain, trying to think of how to explain what a movie was. “It’s like a moving picture,” you replied. “Oh, cinemas,” Jongho said with a nod. You nodded quickly. “Yes, cinemas,” you answered.

You saw Jongho’s eyes follow the target behind you, his head staying still. He leaned in closely, lips close to your ear. “They’ve stopped at the bar.”

You nodded, before faking a giggle. “Just play along,” you whispered back. Jongho nodded. You never thought you’d have to teach a private investigator how to perform a stakeout but here you were, teaching Jongho.

“Pretend like you’re kissing my neck,” you whispered. You heard Jongho sputter.

“Are you insane?!”

“Just do it”

Jongho hesitated. “I can’t pretend to do that,” he murmured, to your annoyance. “Then just do it for real.”

He stared back at you. “What are we doing?”

“We want them to think we’re here as a couple. Do you want your cover blown?”

Jongho shook his head. “I can’t just do that out of nowhere,” he protested.

You rolled your eyes, pushing your drink back before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the way he tensed up under your touch but as your lips moved against his, Jongho relaxed, even leaning into the kiss. When you pulled back, breaking the kiss, Jongho looked mildly upset.

“I wasn’t done, yet,” he whispered, pulling you back into another kiss.

Pulling back, you broke the kiss for a second time.

“Don’t get too into the act,” you reminded him. “We don’t wanna lose them.” Jongho glared at you before glancing behind you and then towards the door. “They’re leaving,” he noted.

You glanced over your shoulder before looking back at the table they’d been sitting at which was now empty. Glancing at the bar, you saw none of the men that had been with the target were in sight.

“Alright,” you answered. “The coast is clear.” Jongho grabbed his coat before handing you the satchel. “Let’s go.”

You got up, leaving some cash on the table before heading for the door. Jongho peered out and saw the men standing around, some smoking while they spoke. “We can’t go out this way,” he murmured.

“The side door,” you whispered. Jongho quickly took your hand and led you back into the club, squeezing through the other patrons and to the hall where the bathrooms were. There was a side door here you’d seen earlier while dancing and it was unlocked thankfully as you and Jongho headed out into the alley between the club and the building next door.

“Wait!” you whispered as Jongho headed for the end of the alley. He turned back to look at you. “I need to change!”

“The bathrooms are just inside, I'll keep an eye on them,” he replied.

You turned back to the door and tried to pull it open only to find it had locked when it shut. “It’s locked!” you hissed. Jongho groaned. “Then just change here!”

You looked around. “Right here?”

Jongho nodded. “We’re the only ones here,” he replied. “Just change quickly.”

You hesitated. “I can’t change here,” you replied softly, prompting him to turn. “Well they’re still by the doors and you can’t get back in from here,” he explained. You glanced around before turning back to him.

“Just hurry up,” he insisted. “No one else is here.”

“But what if someone comes by?”

Jongho turned to look at you. You could see his eyes looking around as he tried to find a solution. “I’ll cover you,” he finally said, shrugging his coat off and holding it up. “Just dress quickly.”

You nodded as he held the coat up, keeping and eye out for anyone walking into the alley or coming from the club side door.

You moved as quickly as you could, unzipping the side of the dress and shimmying out of it. You kicked the shoes off before digging into the satchel for your shorts and top. You pulled them on, cheeks burning as you pulled your shorts over your bare bottom half.

You should have fought San for your panties but it was too late now.

Once your shorts were on, you pulled on your blouse and buttoned it up before pulling on your socks and slipping your feet into your boots, tightening the laces.

Now fully dressed, you shoved the dress and shoes into the satchel and stood up straight. “Okay,” you announced. “Done.”

Jongho lowered the coat and nodded, pulling it back on as you headed for the end of the alley, peering around the corner, Jongho not far behind.

“Ow,” you hissed, pushing Jongho off you. “You stood on my foot!”

He mumbled an apology before peering around you and the corner. “Wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t in the way, doll,” he answered. You glared at him, about to retort when he shushed you, leaning past you to watch.

You turned to peek around the corner where you saw the target and his friends getting into two taxis.

“They’re getting into taxis,” Jongho announced, which prompted you to pinch his arm. “I can see that!” you hissed, ignoring the scowl on Jongho’s face.

“Which one is it again?” you whispered, eyes scanning as the men split up. “He’s getting into the front seat of the first taxi,” Jongho answered. “And his wife really thinks he’s cheating?”

Jongho nodded.

“Seems pretty anticlimactic,” you replied.

Jongho shrugged his shoulders. “It pays the bills,” he answered before grabbing your arm and pulling you back. “Shit, the car is coming, hide!”

The two of you scrambled behind a dumpster as the two taxis drove past the alley the two of you were currently hiding in. Your chest was pressed against the steel side of the dumpster, Jongho behind you, pressing into your backside.

You could feel his breath against your neck until he cleared his throat and stepped backwards. “H-he’s gone,” he said softly. You turned around to face him, finding he was already looking away. “We should probably follow him.”

Once in Jongho’s car, the two of you managed to find the taxis and followed them at a distance through the city. The drive led the two of you to the farside of whatever town you were in. “Where are we?” you asked, looking out the window.

“We’re over by the docks,” Jongho answered as he slowed the car to a stop, keeping the headlights off as he pulled to the corner of the street where the taxis had turned down. “It’s nothing but old unused warehouses over here,” he added as you both looked down the street.

The taxis had stopped. “This is it,” Jongho said, putting the car into reverse and pulling back a few feet before parking the car and cutting the engine. “Let’s go,” he said, leaning into the back of the car and grabbing a camera.

You opened your door and got out, shutting the door as quietly as possible as Jongho fiddled with the camera. He moved quickly to the corner of the building and peered around it, raising the camera to snap a couple pictures.

You peered around him just in time to see the men enter one of the old buildings as the taxis drove off. Jongho kept you behind him as the two of you made your way down the street. You stopped, grabbing Jongho as you noticed the man standing by the door.

Just as quickly, you pulled him into an alley between two buildings. “What are you doing?” Jongho hissed. You put a finger to your lips and beckoned him to follow you.

Peering around the corner, you could see now two men guarding the entrance of the warehouse. “Shit,” Jongho whispered. “How do we get in?”

You pulled back to look up at the building. You noticed a couple of cracked windows and moved over to climb on top of some old boxes to peer inside. “Here,” you whispered, waving him over.

You carefully pushed the window open and looked inside the building.

When you saw no one, you hoisted yourself up. “Be careful!” Jongho whispered as you pulled yourself into the window and carefully dropped down onto a table inside the building.

Jongho peered in, calling your attention with a ‘pst.’

You looked up as he held up the camera before tossing it to you.

You caught it as he climbed into the window, lowering himself onto the same table as you looked around, raising the camera and taking a couple of pictures for him. Jongho joined you on the warehouse floor and took the camera back.

The two of you looked around until you noticed light coming from a stairwell leading into a basement. You tapped Jongho and pointed. He nodded and led the way quietly, careful to avoid any old or loose looking floorboards.

The staircase was metal and didn’t creak thankfully.

As you made your way down the stairs, distant shouting could be heard. The further into the basement you descended, the louder the shouting. Soon you could hear barking and growling amongst the shouting.

You grabbed Jongho’s arm, causing him to look up at you. “Dogs,” you whispered.

He nodded, obviously not piecing together what you were. “Dog fighting,” you whispered, satisfied when it sunk in and his eyes widened. “We shouldn’t be here,” you continued but Jongho shook his head. “I have a job to do,” he replied. “And if you want that key, you’re gonna help me.”

Your heart sank and you saw no other way out of this.

Nodding, you continued to follow him down the stairs.

At the bottom the hall led forward. There were two doors. Behind one you could hear shouting which you assumed to house the ring. You pointed to the other door first. “If you need pictures, you’re going to want to get them of any other dogs being held here,” you explained. “Especially if you plan on turning this over to the police.”

Jongho took hold of the handle and slowly opened the door. Inside was exactly as you suspected. Stacks of crates housing all sorts of dogs of different breeds and sizes. It made your heart hurt, knowing what these poor animals were being used for.

Jongho snapped a few pictures of the crates before moving further into the room. You glanced around and then up, noticing the wall separating this room from the main room didn’t reach the ceiling. But you noticed something else. An opening in the floor above. You grabbed Jongho’s sleeve and nodded towards the ceiling.

He looked up and noticed the opening before looking back down at you.

“Good eye,” he whispered before ushering you towards the door and back up the stairs. Once upstairs, you watched him carefully make his way over to the opening, getting down to be closer to the edge. Once peering over, he snapped a few pictures of what you could only assume was the main event.

You urged him to hurry, glancing around and noticing that the door downstairs was open and you could hear footsteps. “Jongho!” You hissed. “Someone’s coming!”

Jongho scooted back before getting up and quickly making his way back, not caring if any of the floorboards squeaked as there was so much sound coming from below. “Come on!” he hissed, waving you over. You followed him back to the window you’d come in from, heart pounding as he helped you climb the table and boosted you up to the window.

Once you were through, he climbed through himself and jumped down from the boxes outside before helping you down. Without thinking, he took your hand and led you to the end of the alley, peering around the corner. The two men were no longer in sight.

Jongho took that opportunity to take off, dragging you down the street and back to the car. Once there, he tossed you the camera as you both got in and started the car before taking off and driving away from the warehouses.

The entire ride back, your heart was pounding as Jongho rambled on and on about the pictures and everything he managed to capture.

Soon, you were back at his building, heading up to the floor his office was on.

You followed Jongho inside, still silent as adrenaline continued to course through your body while Jongho removed his coat and headed for the stairs. “Come on,” he said excitedly.

You threw a glance at his desk before following him up the steps.

Inside his apartment, he walked over to a cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out two glasses. “I know I said I don’t drink,” he said as he bustled about. “And it’s true. At least not while I’m working,” he continued as he pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

“So,” you finally spoke up. “About that key.” Jongho turned to look at you, bottle of whiskey in hand. “The key?” He asked. You nodded. “That was the deal.”

He hesitated before setting the bottle of liquor down. “Well,” he started. “I was actually thinking,” he added. “We made such a good team tonight.”

Your chest tightened. ‘No. He’s not going to do this now.’

“Maybe we could work together?”

You shook your head. “I can’t,” you answered. “I know this seems real to you,” you replied. “But it’s not. I’m stuck inside a mystical library,” you continued. “I need the key to get free and return to my own life.”

Jongho looked down, a look of disappointment crossing his features.

“I don’t know,” he said softly as you walked over to where he stood, pulling yourself up to sit on the counter beside him. “I know we made a deal,” he continued. “But I’ve really enjoyed your company.”

Without answering him, you took one of the glasses and lifted it.

You were determined to get that key. One way or another.

“Tell you what,” you said, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip. “How about we play a game.” Jongho looked up at you, lifting his own glass. “A game?”

You nodded. “A game. If I win, I get the key,” you replied. Jongho contemplated for a moment. “And if I win?” he asked, fighting the urge to smirk. You rested the glass against your exposed thigh. “Well, what do you want?” you asked softly as Jongho closed the distance between you, pushing your knees apart as he set his glass down on the counter.

“What do I want?” he asked, looking up at you as you nodded. “Hmm,” he hummed, thinking as he looked around, eyes settling back on you.

“I want you to stay,” he answered, grabbing his glass and taking another sip, moving to put some distance between you.

You lifted your glass, downing the rest of your whiskey before setting the glass down and moving to undo the top few buttons of your blouse. Jongho’s breath caught in his throat as you slowly undid the buttons.

“What do you really want?” You asked again, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to form as his eyes went straight to your exposed collar.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seduced a man to get what you wanted and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Keep going,” Jongho whispered but you shook your head. “No,” you answered.

“You have to tell me what you want so we can play the game,” you replied. Jongho downed the rest of his drink, setting the glass on the counter and moved back between your spread legs, one hand moving to the small of your back, the other moving to the back of your neck and pulling you into a searing kiss.

You moaned against his lips, hands moving to grab the front of his shirt. You broke the kiss, giggling as he chased your lips with a frown. “You have to tell me what you want,” you repeated. “For the game.” Jongho pulled you down from the counter, turning you to face away.

“Fuck the game,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin as his hands moved to finish unbuttoning your top. You moaned, pushing your backside against him, feeling his erection through his pants. He groaned in your ear as he finished unbuttoning your shirt. “Keep doing that,” he moaned.

You giggled, pushing back against him again as he rutted against you. “Shit,” he groaned, pulling your shirt down past your shoulders and discarding it on the floor. “Come here,” he rasped, turning you to face him and pulling you into another kiss.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered, moving up to grope you over your black lace bra. “These need to come off,” he growled, hands moving down to mess with the button and zipper of your shorts. Your hands replaced his, undoing both quickly before pushing them down and letting them pool at your ankles.

Jongho turned you away again, pushing you over the counter with one hand while the other snuck between your thighs, feeling your wetness on his fingers. “Shit,” he groaned. “No panties and already so wet for me?”

You groaned as he pushed you down by the back of your neck, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop while his fingers worked against your clit from behind. “Doesn’t take much to get you goin’, does it, baby?”

You moaned as three of his fingers plunged into your aching cunt, the stinging quickly replaced with a burning desire. He didn’t let you adjust to the intrusion, instead moving his fingers in and out of you rapidly, trying to stretch you to take him.

A moment later, his fingers slipped out and you whined, pushing back against him as he chuckled. You heard the clink of his belt and the unzipping of his pants before he pushed them down just enough to pull his cock free.

Using your wetness on his fingers, Jongho gave his cock a couple strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He gave no warning before pushing himself into you, eyes fluttering shut as your walls welcomed him. You groaned as he bottomed out, the hand on the back of your neck holding you in place as his other hand moved to your hip.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he gasped. “Are you not getting fucked properly?”

You whimpered as he pulled back, snapping his hips forward and driving the head of his cock against the gummy spot inside your walls. “You’re so damn tight.” Another moan slipped out as he set a steady pace, cock hitting all the right spots.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed, palms pressed against the flat surface of the kitchen island. “Don’t stop.” Jongho let out a huff as he shook his head. “Don’t plan to, doll.”

Your walls clenched around him at the pet name, making him chuckle. “Is that what does it for you?” He asked. “This whole time I’ve been calling you that, you’ve just been squeezing around nothing?”

You whimpered loudly, nodding as his hips continued their assault.

Jongho let out a groan. “Goddamn, you’d think after three sections, you wouldn’t be this fucking tight anymore.”

Your stomach lurched, trying to lift your head to look back at him but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong as he held you down against the counter. “What did you just say?” you gasped. Jongho growled, hips slamming into you from behind, the sound of his skin hitting yours filling the room.

“You’re such a slut, you know that, doll?”

You groaned, walls tightening again. “Letting four guardians fuck you? And you seem to enjoy it. Only sluts do that,” he continued.

You tried to respond but you couldn’t. You were left speechless.

How did he know about the others? There was no way he could know. Yet somehow so did Wooyoung. The Horror Section Guardian knew about Yunho, so why did you think Jongho would be any different?

“Collecting keys,” he murmured. “You really expect me to fall for that bullshit?”

His hips didn’t slow as he continued to fuck you from behind. “Aliens, spider creatures, and lords? Tell me doll,” he said, giving you a particularly harsh thrust and stilling deep inside you.

“How were they?”

The question caught you off guard. “W-what?”

“Hmm? How was that alien cock?” Your walls clenched as you remembered your encounter with Yunho, the tentacles exploring your uterus, his unbelievably long tongue filling your pussy and the huge knotted cock filling you with a ridiculous amount of cum.

“And how well did that spider creature bind you with his web before he pumped you full?” A shiver ran up your spine as you remembered the purple and indigo colors of Wooyoung’s thick cock and the way he tied your body so expertly with his webs.

“What about that feudal lord? Was he rough enough for you?” You let out a groan, remembering the way San pinned you to the table and had his way with you at dinner. The way he ate you out and then teased you with the tip of his cock before slamming it all into you and making it hard for you to walk after.

You pushed back against him, earning a growl, something you hadn’t heard from any of the other guardians before.

It was deep, animalistic and almost… demonic.

“How. Was. It?” He asked again, the same deep, growling voice that sounded completely unlike him as he punctuated each word with a hard thrust.

“Obviously it must be good if you keep coming back for more,” the deep demonic voice said. “J-Jongho,” you gasped only for the voice to chuckle darkly.

“Wrong answer, doll,” the voice said and your eyes snapped open, heart hammering as you pushed yourself up and turned to look back at Jongho who stared back with a peculiar look.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, stopping his movements and looking at you with concern. You quickly glanced around the flat, eyes scanning but saw nothing out of the ordinary. ‘What the hell was that?’

You felt Jongho’s hands on your shoulders soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said softly. “I… I must have spaced out.” Jongho leaned over your back. “Do you want to stop?” You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Keep going, please.”

Despite the weird voice thing, nothing else of note happened for the rest of the night and Jongho seemed determined to set a record, giving you a total of 6 orgasms, something not even your long sessions with Yunho had done.

From the counter, you ended up in Jongho’s bed where he busied himself between your thighs for what felt like hours. After drawing a couple orgasms out of you with his tongue, he was back balls deep in you, one of your legs over his shoulder as his hips moved rhythmically, each thrust having you seeing stars.

“Fuck,” you groaned, back arching off the mattress. “M’gonna cum,” you gasped. “Let go, baby,” Jongho groaned. “Cum for me.”

Your walls convulsed around him as you came for the sixth time that night, Jongho following quickly as his thrusts grew more erratic, chasing his own high until he finally came with a low moan, cock twitching as he filled your pussy with spurts of white hot seed.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hips stilling as his cock twitched inside your warm walls. You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath as he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back beside you. “Where the hell do you get all that stamina from?” you asked, staring up at the ceiling. Jongho let out a breathless laugh.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied. “What was that, six orgasms?” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “You’re the one who gave them,” you retorted, turning your head to look at him. He gave you a smug smile. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him. “Okay Mr. High and Mighty,” you replied, sitting up and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?” Jongho asked, watching you. “Bathroom,” you replied, getting up, legs trembling slightly as you stood.

Jongho watched as you carefully made your way to the bathroom, no doubt feeling proud that he was the reason you were so wobbly and unstable.

After doing your business, you returned to find him passed out, sheet pulled up to his waist. As quietly as you could, you dressed and walked over to where his pants lay, picking them up and pulling the key to the desk from his pocket.

With one last look back at him, you headed for the door, opened the door and headed down the stairs to his office.

Once there, you hurried over to the desk, kneeling down to unlock the desk drawer and pulled it open. They cloth lay inside and inside that was the key. You grabbed it, pocketing it before shutting the drawer, standing up and leaving his key and a note on the desk, thanking him and apologizing.

With your prize in your pocket, you headed for the door, stopping to pull on and tie your boots before opening the door and slipping out, shutting it behind you and hurrying to the lift.

The return trip always seemed shorter than when you left and soon you were approaching the door leading back into the lobby where Seonghwa was waiting for you, sitting behind the desk with one leg crossed over the other. He watched with narrowed eyes as you approached, setting the key on the desk.

He stared up at you wordlessly before taking the key and placing it in the box.

“Did you have fun?” He asked, all amusement in his voice gone. You gulped at the tone and the look he gave you. “Define fun,” you replied, regretting it instantly as Seonghwa got up and rounded the desk in the blink of an eye, he pinned you against the desk. “You think this is a game?” He growled.

You shook your head, eyes wide with terror. The angelic appearance you’d grown accustomed to shifted for a brief period, allowing you to see some of the true creature beneath the facade.

And it was terrifying.

Realizing what he’d done, Seonghwa let go of you and took a step backwards. “There isn’t much time,” he said, looking at his hands before balling them into fists and looking at you. ‘Much time?’ You wondered. ‘Much time for what?’

Seonghwa turned to look at you.

“You have to hurry.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho scenarios #jongho imagines #jongho fanfic #jongho angst #jongho smut #jongho x reader #series: library of illusion

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natjennie · 4 months

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the way that "american vandal" gets popular diagetically and causes trouble for their investigation, fan theories and bogus tips and public outcry getting them banned from filming on campus. the way they get a teacher fired for his comments because he didn't know his interview would be shared publicly, the way students' relationships and infidelity, underage drinking and drug use, is broadcasted for the community to see. people get arrested. the fact that in searching for the truth so many people's privacy has to be violated and the fact that peter thinks he's in the right. the fact that he is young and naive and forgets that his little detective story has real consequences.

#god I love you av #american vandal

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privateinvestigatorsuniverse · 2 years

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All essential things about the private investigation companies

You can have the exact map of your life because it's completely unpredictable. You write it in the other way, but it's already scripted. Likewise, you will need to find out when you will face the real problem. And when you are in that soup, you can try hard to get rid of that. But every time, the deal may seem like it could be more suitable for you. Suppose you are being cheated by someone or got false acquisition or scammed. In that case, only private investigation companies can save you. So let's see what they do.

Investigation of personal matters

Private investigation companies have the expertise of headhunting through personal matters. They delve deeper to find out the flaws. In order to prepare a full proof evidentiary document, they research their own way. They try to find out what areas need detailed monitoring. But as it is a personal matter, they try to keep it fully confidential.

Investigation of the corporate sector

The corporate investigation concludes everything from research on consumers, businesses and stakeholders. The investigation companies use their ultimate skill and expertise to discover the flaws. While they are in the process of getting information on these, they try to carry out things in an extraordinary way. To be precise, they try to adhere to legitimate rules without violating laws. Consecutively the investigation companies also get reports on acquiring the employee details. For that, they do extensive background screening of the employees to find the exact point.

Multitasking jobs

The above said are the two areas in which they use their expertise. But yes, the experts know about doing multitasking jobs. You will often see that they are dealing with identity fraud, insurance claims etc.

Final say

It is always a wise move when you decide to hire a private detective. Private Investigator services have the right tools and knowledge to carry out investigations easily.

#private investigation #private investigation companies #private investigation nsw #private investigation background #private investigator Brisbane #Infidelity Investigators #Background Check Australia #Criminal Background Check #Background Check for Employment #private investigator detective #Surveillance Investigators #Private Investigators bug sweeping #Private Investigators for fraud #Corporate Private Investigators #Private Investigators services #Private Forensics Investigation #Digital forensics investigator

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alwaysgloriouschopshop · 3 months

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theetherealbloom · 3 months

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NO BODY, NO CRIME | TIM ROCKFORD

No Body, No Crime | Tim Rockford x Fem!Reader

Summary: You investigate a series of murders and the disappearance of your friend, Este. Suspecting Este's husband, Adam, you take matters into your own hands, orchestrating a scheme to frame him for the crimes as you hide the truth from your boyfriend-Detective Tim Rockford.

Paring: Det. Tim Rockford x Profiler Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Crime Stuff, Angst, FLUFF, Kissing, Established Relationship, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Blood, Character Deaths, Awkward, Plot Holes,

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is for @beskarandblasters drabble challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in the Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, I had so much fun writing this. I’ve never written for Tim Rockford before, so I hope I did him some justice.

Song: no body, no crime by Taylor Swift (feat. HAIM)

Main Masterlist

WILLOW’S CREEK – EVENING

The faint drone of the TV news reporting a surge in local murders filled the room, but you quickly drowned it out, lowering the volume. Seated on your couch, legs tucked in, you and Este cradled glasses of wine. "You look like you’ve been losin' sleep," you observed, noting Este's tired eyes and lack of color in her complexion.

Este sighed heavily, her voice tinged with frustration. "My husband's actin' different, and it smells like infidelity," she confessed. "That ain't my Merlot on his mouth. That ain't my jewelry on our joint account. No, there ain't no doubt, I think I'm gonna call him out."

Concern furrowed your brow as Este voiced her suspicions. "I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," she added, her words heavy with uncertainty.

At the station, you found yourself immersed in a case alongside Detective Tim Rockford, the FBI had sent you, a profiler to collaborate with him to work on the case. Together, you were tackling the investigation into a chilling serial killer plaguing the area.

"All similar-looking... died the same way too," you remarked, studying the evidence on the board. Tim nodded grimly. "I reckon the unsub might strike again soon."

A shiver ran down your spine as you surveyed the photos of the victims, their hauntingly familiar faces unsettling you to your core.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" Tim's voice broke through your thoughts as he approached, wrapping an arm around your waist. Weary, you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his concern evident. "Is it about the case or somethin’ else?" he inquired softly.

Meeting his gaze, filled with understanding, you began, "Remember when Este came over last Tuesday?"

Tim nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Had your girl talk?"

You affirmed with a nod. "Este suspects that her husband is cheating on her."

Tim let out a low whistle. "Shit."

"Yeah," you agreed, worry etched in your features. “I might message her later, try and meet up with her at an Olive Garden next week on Tuesday or something.”

Tim nods, “I can drop you off.”

“You don’t have—” He cuts you off before you can finish, “I’ll drop you off, sweet girl. I know how stressed you get when you drive.”

You grumble with a small pout, “Some people shouldn’t have a license.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek before gently turning you to face him, his lips meeting yours in a tender embrace. "Let’s go home, darlin’, and we’ll tackle all of this in the mornin’," he murmurs softly.

Friday, 8:34 PM

You: Olive Garden next week, Tuesday?

Este: Sure, see you soon!

Tuesday, 7:38 PM

You: Hey, got us a table. Let me know if you’re on the way! <3

8:34 PM

You: Are you running a little late?

WILLOW’S CREEK – THURSDAY, MORNING

Este was nowhere to be found—neither at Olive Garden nor at her workplace.

You're on the phone, dialing Este's number for what feels like the hundredth time, only to be met with silence. Suddenly, Este's husband, Adam, strides into the station to report her disappearance to the sergeant.

Fury bubbles up inside you, and you're on the verge of lunging at him when Tim intervenes. His arms encircle your waist, guiding you away from Adam and into a nearby conference room. With a gentle touch, he pulls you close, kissing you until the world spins a little less wildly, calming your frayed nerves.

"He did it, Tim. I know it. All the murders, Este missing, it’s him. He did it," you whispered, your voice trembling, as Tim held you close, his arms a comforting shield.

"What do you mean?" Tim inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.

"All the women, they were surrogates for Adam to perfect his crime. To get rid of Este. And I noticed when I passed his house, his truck has got some brand new tires," you explained, determination shining in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

"Let’s get to diggin’ then, darlin’," Tim declared, pressing a reassuring kiss to your temple as you swallowed down your nerves. You knew facing Adam would be dangerous, but you were willing to risk it for justice.

"His mistress moved in, sleeps in Este's bed and everything. No, there ain't no doubt. We gotta catch him," Tim remarked grimly as you both surveyed the evidence board, the weight of the unsolved case heavy on your shoulders.

Weeks had passed, and still, you hadn't found a body.

"No body means there’s no crime," you murmured, your voice tinged with frustration. "We need reasonable cause to detain him, evidence to bring before a judge. Without a body, he can't be tried for murder."

"I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," you admitted quietly, your words echoing the frustration of your fruitless search.

Another week slipped by, and as Tim slept soundly beside you, you meticulously planned your next move. With wide eyes and clenched teeth, you gazed up at the ceiling, every detail of your scheme playing out in your mind.

Thank the stars your daddy insisted on that boating license when you were just fifteen. And all those years cleaning houses? They taught you exactly how to cover up a scene. Then there's Este's sister, willing to swear she spent the night with you for a girl's night. And let's not forget the icing on the cake—the mistress and her hefty life insurance policy.

With a smirk, you loaded the boat with the evidence of your carefully crafted plan. After all, taking out a life insurance policy shortly before someone's demise raises more than a few eyebrows. It's a motive so strong, it practically screams guilt. And that policy? It's as circumstantial as it gets, proof that the suspect knew the end was near.

THE STATE COURT

WILLOW’S CREEK – AFTERNOON

You sat beside Tim as the trial reached its climax. Despite the defense's best efforts, they couldn't shake the suspicion surrounding you. But proving it? That was a different story altogether.

As the jury delivered their verdict, condemning her to a lifetime behind bars, you stood outside the courthouse, watching the chaos unfold. Cameras flashed, reporters clamored for a statement, but you remained composed, a smug smirk playing at your lips. Tim stood steadfast by your side, his arm draped protectively around your waist, a silent testament to his unwavering loyalty.

Then she saw you, desperation flashing in her eyes as she lunged forward, restrained by the police. "You did this! It was you!" she screamed, her accusations falling on deaf ears.

Arms folded across your chest, you merely smirked as she was ushered into a patrol car. She may believe you're guilty, but without proof, her words were nothing but empty threats.

Tim pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, and you leaned into his embrace, knowing that together, you were untouchable.

#tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #tim rockford xfem!reader #tim rockford #taylor swift

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 15 days

Text

Love In Trouble [Part Two]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3582

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I have this idea for a while but I’ve been deep in my marauders series so I’ve put it off. Is any of it written? NAH but it’ll be coming

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

It was astounding how someone so young could have their life ripped away so suddenly and yet no one seemed to know how. In fact if Austin hadn't been so frustrated by the whole thing he probably would have found it sad. After collecting what evidence they could from the apartment they had done a sweep of the building, knocking on doors and asking its residents if they had seen anything that may help their investigation. All they had got in return was the same sentiments; Tony was a nice but quiet guy who kept to himself and never caused any trouble. And each and every one of them had given the same answer verbatim that on the night Tony was killed, which the coroner had established to be the thirtieth, they had not seen or heard anything.

Now this may have been true because the coroner had said that whilst he couldn't be sure the definite time but he guessed sometime in the early morning which could explain why no one saw anything but from the amount of curtain twitching that went on around this town he wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly have missed a gunshot. But if people had heard it and were choosing to ignore a crime of this magnitude it only supported the theory running around the precinct.

He had thought John had been exaggerating when it came to the ‘Memphis Mafia’. Of course he knew that most cities had their mob problems but Memphis wasn’t exactly repping the levels of New York or Chicago. Which was probably why he wasn’t aware of the undercurrent that ran through downtown Memphis hidden behind the façade of music clubs and suave bars. Whilst John had told him about the reputation of Kings Bar and others under the same management his other colleagues had elaborated informing him with a certain amount of glee that this case was unsolvable especially if this had anything to do with the boss, Elvis Presley.

It had been a name Austin had vaguely recalled; a rising star some fifteen years previous who had burned out shortly after joining the draft. Unfortunately his fellow detectives had relished in getting him up to speed. Apparently after leaving the army the singer had found himself at a loss, his allure now dwindled in favour of the music of the swinging sixties. So unable to gain any traction in the mainstream he’d turned his sights on Memphis, buying up a run-down bar and turning into an arena for the music scene of the city. His own name was enough to draw people in and it had quite the reputation on the strip for being a good night out. Yet as business had boomed his notoriety had gained a different sort of traction and his good reputation had become debatable. It didn’t help that he had an egregious partner running half the show, a toad of a man called the Colonel whose own criminal past was just as questionable, or that he chose to staff his establishment with a gang of his cronies. Soon enough they’d gained a name and rap sheets to match with offences like racketeering, intimidation and bribery topping the list. There was also the rumour going around the office that their newest venture was using their many clubs to fence narcotics but the drug squad had yet to have any traction with that notion.

Not that it mattered. As Elvis Presley had gained notoriety he had also gained powerful friends. He knew people local government, the celebrities of Memphis and most importantly members of their fine establishment.

‘You might as well give up now,’ Robert Johnson, a fellow homicide detective had said as he’d appeared at the side of his desk where Austin had been pouring over his files. He didn’t particularly like Robert, even though he was the only one in the department remotely close to his age, because he had this air of smugness about him Austin didn’t gel with. And as he continued to speak Austin could see it glinting there behind his brown eyes.

‘What?’ Austin asked irritably.

‘This case,’ he said, sitting on the piles of photos on the desk.

‘And why is that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Because it’s unsolvable. Ain’t no one gonna speak out now they know it’s one of the Kings guys,’ he snorted. Austin had to clench his jaw, the vein in his neck throbbing in irritation.

‘A man has been murdered,’ he reasoned.

‘Yeah and if it has anything to do with his work friends bet your life no one saw or knew nothing. They run a tight ship you know. They’ve flown under the radar for worse,’ Robert said.

‘Well maybe it’s time they did get caught for something,’ Austin said, pulling his files from under the man’s backside with a grunt. Robert rolled his eyes, ‘and who’s going to prosecute them? The chief of police who gave Presley an honorary badge last year? Or the mayor who held a ceremony in his honour due to contributions to the city namely a fat stack of cash.’

‘They’re not the only people who run Memphis,’ Austin countered.

‘No, Presley and Parker do a pretty good job of that too,’ Robert said.

That was why he was sitting outside the bar yet again. He’d already been there once hoping that the patrons or workers would have some information on what had happened to Tony last Thursday given he had been working that night. But just like it had been with his neighbours it was a fruitless endeavour. His workmates had told him nothing was out of the ordinary that night and Tony had left on time after his shift. They hadn’t even felt under pressure when he’d enquired about him not showing up for work, suspicion weighing heavily in his tone, instead they simply cited that they’d assumed he had left town something that wasn’t out of the ordinary in their line of work, their service jobs apparently resembling that of a revolving door. So he didn’t know what he was hoping for now and as he climbed out of his Ford Mustang shutting the squeaky door he sighed. Kings was an old brick building on an intersecting corner of Beale Street. The outside of it was pretty plain, the blacked-out windows revealing nothing to the passersby but inside was a different story.

Every inch of the place was swathed in dark colours with leathers, silk and dark woods being the favoured choices for decoration. He supposed he could see the appeal should one want to frequent the infamous Beale street. It didn’t look too impressive now but at night, when the sunlight didn’t stream in through the windows and the lights were kept low he could imagine it had an aura to it only enhanced by the low chatter of patrons and the swirling of cigar smoke in the air. Of course at noon that aura wasn’t present and it kind of felt disjointed with the fluorescents, the daylight odd and jarring but it still had a presence to it. A notoriety.

Maybe that just stemmed from the way people took note of him the second he walked through the door, curious glances following him as he walked towards the bar looking around to see if he recognised anyone. There were a couple of older men in a booth in the back and a young guy standing at the far end of the bar. From what he could tell the guy seemed to be the bartender, hinted at by the dish cloth strewn over his shoulder, but he didn’t initiate anything. Even when Austin offered a small smile he didn’t respond, his eyes merely narrowing with suspicion. Unfortunately he wasn’t spared from the scrutiny as a man came out from a back door at that very moment taking him in roughly. He was quite tall, not much older than Austin if he had to guess, though he looked more weathered, his ruddy skin and receding red hair not lending itself the youthful air Austin still had in his thirties.

Still scrutiny or not Austin put his best foot forward, offering the man an easy-going smile as he said, ‘hello.’

‘Can I help you?’ the man replied gruffly. Austin supposed he should’ve been thankful he wanted to get the chase but that meant he wouldn’t be able to angle the conversation as he wanted.

‘Uh yeah actually,’ Austin said straightening up, ‘I uh I stopped by the other day I had a couple more questions. I was just wondering if anyone else would be free to talk to me.’

‘Questions about?’ the man asked impatiently.

‘Tony Bowen,’ Austin said, ‘your employee.’

‘Oh him,’ the man said, his eyes flitting around the bar. They landed on a woman who was sitting at the other end of the bar but before Austin could follow his gaze he snapped his attention back and said, ‘you’re the detective right.’

‘Yeah, Detective Butler,’ he said, moving his jacket out of the way of the badge on his hip so that it flashed for a second, glinting under the harsh lights as he asked, ‘and you are?’

‘Red West,’ the man replied, ‘look, we already told you what we know.’

‘I know I was just wondering if anyone else could share anything. I thought having a couple of days to think might help jog a few memories,’ Austin said simply.

‘Memories like what?’ Red asked.

‘Well Tony worked here nearly eighteen months all told and no one seems to know much about him,’ Austin started, easing into his suspicions gently.

‘He kept to himself,’ Red replied and Austin had to fight to keep his face neutral even though he was wondering if that was the official company slogan at this point.

‘Really?’ he pressed gently, ‘because it kinda seems like a tight knit group here. Hard to imagine him not being friends with someone.’

‘Are you friends with everyone you work with?’ he countered. Austin offered him a tight smile but said nothing, hoping his silence would be enough to bleed something out of this stone of a man, ‘look he was some kid from the sticks of Florida who came here lookin’ for a job. We gave him one.’

‘And what was his job?’ Austin asked. When he’d first asked he’d been told Tony was a busboy or waiter, but before that he’d been questioning regular patrons who’d stated they’d hardly ever seen the boy working out front. He was always coming and going, ‘part of the entourage’ one had told him though he wasn’t sure what that call for.

‘Worked the bar,’ Red replied.

‘And what does that entail?’ Austin asked.

‘Whatever he was needed to do,’ Red replied, his soft jaw clenching in indignation as Austin eyed him dubiously, a scrutiny he was no doubt unaccustomed to these days even if he did relent to elaborate, ‘haulin’ crates and bussin’ tables.’

‘And he always worked inside the bar?’ Austin asked, already knowing that couldn’t be true.

‘That’s his job idn’t it,’ the man replied tersely, ‘look he came. He went. He didn’t cause any trouble. What else do you want me to say?’

‘He obviously caused someone some trouble,’ Austin countered.

‘Yeah well it ain’t nuthin’ to do with us at Kings so take your lil questions elsewhere,’ Red replied. Austin watched as he came towards him, flipping the bar flap over until it crashed unceremoniously in front of the detective before he pushed past him and out into the high sun.

Austin could feel eyes on him now though it was mostly patrons, the bartender having disappeared into the back at some point in their conversation. He half wondered if he had gone to get someone to remove him, back up should Austin cause any trouble. Yet as he sighed and turned to leave he heard a small voice say, ‘excuse me.’

When he turned it was the woman he’d not managed to get a proper look at. She was sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, her legs crossed elegantly over one another as though she was waiting rather than sitting there to be served. She was pretty, extremely so, soft pale skin complimenting rich chocolate coloured hair and dazzling blue eyes. In fact she looked like the epitome of a club patron even at this early hour, a short black dress ghosting along her thighs offset by the outlandishly large fur she was wearing. Given that it was knocking on eighty degrees he almost felt the urge to laugh but then it occurred to him that in here it was quite chilly something he hadn’t noticed it before.

‘Can I help you?’ Austin asked, realising he’d been staring far too long and she was now watching him unsurely.

‘Sorry to pry but I couldn’t help overhear,’ she said apologetically, ‘I just wondered who you were talking about?’

‘Uh, Tony Bowen,’ Austin replied, figuring it couldn’t hurt to cast his net any further seeing as his current capture was barren.

‘What about him?’ she asked quietly.

‘He was murdered Thursday night,’ Austin replied, watching a flicker of sadness come across her face though like everyone else in this place he recovered well offering little more than a, ‘oh that’s just awful.’

‘Did you know him?’ Austin asked.

‘What?’ the woman shifted nervously and then shrugged, ‘oh no, I don’t think so but it’s just such a tragedy isn’t it.’

‘Yeah one I’m not getting far with admittedly,’ Austin said, earning a sad smile.

‘Well I hope you manage to find something,’ she said, slipping from her stool and standing up, smoothing out her fur coat as she grabbed her petite purse from the countertop.

‘Thanks uh,’ Austin said realising he hadn't even gotten her name yet but she didn’t return it, already hurriedly swinging her bag onto her shoulder and moving around the bar as she murmured, ‘would you excuse me.’

Austin watched as she disappeared into the back room. He was inclined to wait for her but when the bartender returned, a scowl on his face he got the impression he’d long outstayed his welcome and headed back out to his car.

But when he got there he didn’t feel like going back to the precinct. Everyone knew where he’d been granted because most of them had told him not to bother, even John who despite being partnered with him on this case seemed to be happy to let the trail run cold in light of the overlap with the dubbed ‘Memphis Mafia’. Austin knew he was probably being foolhardy. That he was stirring a pot he probably shouldn’t get involved with but he wasn’t just going to stand by and bury his head in the sand just because it was risky. Just because of who Tony had been involved with did that not mean he deserved justice? Did his grandma, a woman who had sobbed down the phone to him for half an hour upon receiving the grim news, not deserve to know what happened to her grandson? Did the ‘mafia’ just get a pass because it was too much of an effort to try and get involved? No.

So, with that in mind he decided to do another sweep of Tony’s apartment. Sure, eye witnesses were getting him nowhere but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still other evidence to find. After all, even in an absence of evidence Tony’s home had shared a story. Maybe there was more to it to be found.

The apartment was just as barren as he’d left it though admittedly the smell had improved somewhat. The blood stain had long since dried but he wasn’t sure if it was that or the absence of a body that made it seem smaller somehow. In fact with just him in here now without the foot traffic from the sheriff's office it felt bigger now, lonelier. Just like his apartment did when he sloped in after a gruelling shift, the sound of the TV still not enough to shut out the thoughts whirring around in his brain.

He wondered if Tony had felt lonely in here. The lack of any art or personality on the wall made it feel like it was possible. Then again the absence of people in his life, or at least the absence of those willing to admit to knowing him, made it feel that way too. How could his grandmother be the only one who seemed to know or at least speak to him. How could no one pin down what role he had played in a company for nigh on a year and a half. It begged belief.

Austin moved around the room rifling through drawers but finding nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing in his medicine cabinet of note, merely a few band aids and a bottle of aspirin which he’d expect to find in any young person’s apartment. His mail, which John had so painstakingly gone through, didn’t hint at any trouble such as aggrieved parties or owed debts. In fact the only thing that took Austin’s interest was the handful of condoms in his nightstand though Tony was young and working at a club so that didn’t exactly scream concrete lead if anything it probably hinted at more than one lead entering Tony’s life for a very short-term basis.

Eventually he turned his attention to the bookcase. There wasn’t much on it but it was where most of Tony’s personal possessions lived. There was a stack of records next to a player which Austin thumbed through finding the boy to be a fan of Sinatra and Dean Martin. There was a shelf full of books, mostly sci-fi novels though they looked in good condition, the spines not even cracked which gave him the impression they were a gift he’d no intention of starting to go through or he was too busy to get around to it, which posed the question of what he was doing instead of reading. Trinkets cluttered the rest of the gaps. Old baseball trophies, a clock, a plant. Nothing out of the ordinary just like the photo frame that was nestled on a top shelf. It wasn’t very big but it was visible from where Austin had perched himself on the arm of the chair so he stood and picked it up looking at the photo encapsulated inside the silver frame. It was of an older woman and a young boy and it looked as though whoever had taken the picture had caught the pair off guard as the woman was sitting in a lawn chair with the boy standing between her legs, nestled into her as if they’d been hugging before he’d had to turn his torso towards the camera. He looked as though he’d been crying, his eyes red and puffy, but his smile was present. Behind him the woman was beaming a smile, her hand on the boy's hip as if to reassure him she was still there.

Tony and his grandmother, Austin reckoned as he smiled. It was nice to put a face to the name, nicer still to think of her like this instead of the sobbing wreck she had been when they’d interacted. And above all it was nice to know this young guy actually had someone in his life who cared for him.

With a sigh Austin moved to put it back but as he did he felt something flutter past his fingers on the back of the frame. As he placed it on the shelf he noted a piece of paper had fallen to the ground in front of him onto the beige carpet. He bent down and picked it up, turning it to face him.

It was another photo, well a photo strip, and each individual picture showed Tony and a woman. Except this one was not a photo of grandmotherly affection. Each picture showed the pair nestled up in a photobooth, laughing and joking until they were entangled in one another, lips locked for the camera to snap away at. Austin felt excitement run through him at the thought of a lead. Who was she and more importantly where did she fit in with Tony’s life.

The woman with him was young with shoulder length brown hair and a sleek figure clad in a chic satin dress. In one frame she had her eyes closed and her cherry red lips pressed to Tony’s cheek. No one had mentioned a girlfriend before. Of course Tony had been in town eighteen months and this girl could’ve been anything; merely one date or an old girlfriend back in Gainesville. That might explain why it was tucked behind a photo frame, hidden from view but still accessible may the longing to spark a memory come.

Still without a name or hint at who she was, it didn't really help Austin. Though as he stared at the picture he couldn’t help but feel like he did know her. Then again how many women did he see day to day. If he could just place where he’d seen her maybe that’d help. Then all of a sudden it clicked and he slipped the photo into his back pocket, the picture of the woman on Tony’s lap and a sitting elegantly on barstool merging into one.

‘Didn’t know him my ass,’ Austin whispered.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab

@i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

#my writing #love in trouble #elvis presley #elvis presley x ofc #austin butler #austin butler x ofc #mafia au #elvis presley x ofc x austin butler

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nyctoaerah · 1 month

Note

Can u please post the other parts of Wish Granted?:( i can't open the links for some reasons and it says that I don't have the access to read it or something. I'm really hooked, but I'm sorry for bothering

-❤️‍🩹

WISH GRANTED: CH 2 & 3.

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: In which, you, a workaholic grade A detective has been investigating about multiple murder cases, ends up wishing for other people to die and the same serial killer that you were looking for ends up granting it in the most twisted way possible.

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Gore, Mutilation, Mentions of Torture, Jack Being creepy.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆PREV

⋆♱⋆NOTE: Hey pookie, idrk why it isn’t working for you because it’s working for me properly:( maybe you should restart your pc/phone? Or maybe it’s on your internet? I’ll try checking on the links later and revise them. But yeah, dw, it’s not a bother, i don’t mind it anyways. I’ll just post the other parts later<3.

Ps; Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

AS SOON AS THOSE words reached your ears, a chill crept down your spine causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand at attention. Your heart dropped into your stomach, the thundering rhythm filling your ears drowning out all other sound. The blood seemed to freeze in your veins as icicles of dread rapidly spreads throughout your limbs, numbing you from head to toe. Your breathing became shallow and you were wide-eyed and unblinking, your pupils dilating until only a thin ring of iris remained,

That certainly wasn’t a news that you wanted to hear.

your grip on the phone faltered and it slipped from your trembling hands, crashing heavily onto the ground as your breath hitched in your throat.

“Your boyfriend and best friend were found dead.”

Those words kept repeating in your mind, the weight of those words bore down on you, sending an icy shiver cascading down your spine. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, leaving you unable to discern what you truly felt. Your breath caught in your throat, threatening to suffocate you as dizziness washed over you, threatening to pull you into unconsciousness.

‘But i was just with them a few hours ago...’

It hurts so much, it felt like your heart strings are about to break.

It was a tumultuous mix of fury, grief, betrayal, heartbreak, and a profound sense of self-pity that overwhelmed your senses. This day had already been marked by a series of unfortunate events, beginning with the painful revelation of your boyfriend’s infidelity and culminating in the relvelation that your closest confidant had been a traitor all along.

The news of their deaths hit like a tidal wave, crashing into the already shattered pieces of your heart.

You stumbled back, collapsing onto the closest piece of furniture that hadn’t been destroyed in your fit of rage. Your body shook with tremors, the weight of grief becoming almost too much to bear. Regret seeped into your veins, staining your conscience with a haunting question: Could you have prevented this?

As your mind raced, memories of your boyfriend and best friend flooded back. The joyous moments you had shared, the laughter, the support – all now overshadowed by the painful truth of their betrayal. How had you been so blind? Anger surged through you, sparked by the overwhelming hurt, as you cursed their names under your breath.

But amidst the anger, a profound sadness settled in, casting a bleak shadow over your soul. You mourned not only the loss of their lives but also the friendships and the love that was once so pure. The realization that you would never hear their voices again, never feel their warm embrace, tore through you like a serrated knife.

You needed to do something.

with trembling hands, you reluctantly reached for your phone, only to discover a crack on its screen. It must have happened when you dropped it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your throat was dry and your eyes were bloodshot due to how much you've cried.

Using your shaky fingers, you unlocked your phone and wiped the moisture off the screen with your hands. As you opened it, a flood of notifications greeted you, including messages from Earl, Jhenicca, and others. Slowly, you navigated to your contacts and dialed the headquarters. They answered promptly, causing you to release a shaky breath.

“What happened?” you inquired, your voice raspy from the lack of moist and use.

“Lieutenant, how are you holding up?” came the concerned voice on the other end of the line.

You let out a heavy sigh. Of course, you were far from okay. The pain of heartbreak still lingered, threatening to tear your emotions apart. But you were determined not to let your personal turmoil interfere with your duty. Despite their betrayals, your love for your boyfriend and best friend remained, and you couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a gruesome end.

“I’ll manage, don't worry about me,” you replied, trying to sound composed.

“Information please,”

You requested.

“We discovered Lieutenant Earl and Detective Jhenicca’s bodies near the Forest,” they informed you, their words hitting you like a blow.

“What do you mean at the forrest?”

you exclaimed, your voice tinged with shock as you processed the information.

“I was just with them at the station just a few hours ago, they would never go to a forrest.” you stated, your brows furrowing in confusion. The image of that encounter still haunted your mind, causing your voice to falter slightly.

“Jhenicca despises forests,” you muttered, your fingers tightly gripping your phone. The situation was becoming more puzzling by the minute.

“That’s the very mystery we’re trying to unravel, Lieutenant,” they explained. “That’s why headquarters is requesting your presence.”

You let out a snort.

Of course, they would want you there.

As one of the last people to see them, you were likely the prime suspect in their disappearance.

“Interrogation,” you stated, weariness evident in your voice.

“Yes, Lieutenant, they want to interrogate you,” they replied.

You couldn't help but release a heavy sigh, feeling drained.

“I’ll make my way there later,” you mumbled, the exhaustion weighing on your words.

“How did they... die?”

You asked slowly.

“We believed that the cause of death is by blood loss.”

“They got mutilated, all of their fingers in both hands and feet was removed, and they were skinned alive, moreover, their bodies were also covered in honey and other things and bees were swarming over them, and so does other bugs, that were probably eating them slowly.”

The image of their mutilated and dismembered corpses sent a shiver down your spine.

Torture.

“So they got tortured first before dying then...”

You mumbled, realizing that they got a painful death and it is indeed a murder.

“We believe so,”

You let out a sigh.

“Have their bodies been taken for autopsy?” you managed to ask, your fingers involuntarily curling up in distress.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the voice on the other end confirmed.

“Forensics are currently examining the bodies at the morgue. We’ll let you know as soon as we have any updates.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It was essential to stay focused and maintain your composure despite the heart-wrenching news. These investigations required a clear mind, and your team relied on you for guidance.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Please keep me informed of any new findings.”

“We will,”

they assured you.

“And remember, you aren’t alone in this. We’re here for you, Lieutenant.”

You smiled a little, even though they couldn’t see you, Their support was essential, but there was still a part of you that felt isolated, grappling with the weight of your emotions. You had loved and trusted both Earl and Jhenicca, and their betrayal and death had shattered your world.

As you hung up the phone, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the painful memories and focus on the tasks ahead. The investigation couldn’t wait, and justice needed to be served.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, you felt a wave of tension wash over you, it felt as if someone is watching you right now.

Now that you weren’t bawling your eyes out and not having a breakdown anymore, you noticed this strangeness.

Your brows creased as you opened your eyes and scanned your surroundings, checking left and right for any signs of an intruder.

But there was no one in sight. It had been three long months since you first sensed the eerie feeling of being watched, but the demands of work and the constant presence of either Earl or Jhenicca by your side had distracted you from paying it much attention. However, now that you found yourself alone, the unsettling sensation began to gnaw at your thoughts.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your window slightly ajar. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you struggled to recall if you had ever opened it. Opening the window was not a regular occurrence for you; in fact, you rarely ever did.

“I don’t recall opening my window,” you muttered to yourself, as you stood up, wobbling a bit as you walked towards the window to investigate.

but before you could investigate further, a sharp pain shot through your foot. You looked down to find the cause, only to see an assortment of glass shards scattered across the floor—probably from the vases and other things you had threw on the ground. You must have accidentally stepped on the broken glass, and warm blood began to trickle from the wound.

This really is such a bad day.

Suppressing a curse, you quickly hobbled over to your bathroom to tend to the injury, As you made your way towards the bathroom, an overpowering stench assaulted your senses. It was an amalgamation of metallic notes, mingled with a sickeningly familiar odor reminiscent of raw flesh, like the scent that lingers at a butcher shop. It was a scent you had encountered many times before, while investigating crime scenes. But the difference is, it wasn’t a crime scene. It was your own bathroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you cautiously pushed open the door, the repulsive smell growing even stronger.

At first glance, everything appeared normal. But when your eyes traveled upwards, a blood-curdling scream escaped your lips.

Multiple human fingers were nailed and plastered in the walls like some sort of furniture, both fingers from the hands and toes, you can see the bones under them as blood dripped from them.

they were forming a word, three fingers were on a shape of the letter ‘W’, one for the letter ‘I’, five for the letter ‘S’, Three for the letter ‘H’, five for the letter ‘G’, five for the letter ‘R’, six for the letter ‘A’ and ‘N’ Two for ‘T’, four for ‘E’, and with the last letter being ‘D’, which had three fingers on them. 37 fingers, were nailed in your walls, with the words being....

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃.

...

You were utterly shocked, repulsed, scared, evident from the way your eyes were protruding out of their sockets.

You instinctively recoiled by taking a swift step backwards while simultaneously covering your mouth with your hand in disbelief. The intensity of the sight before you was so overwhelming that your stomach twisted and turned, disturbed by both the visual and olfactory aspects of the situation.

Your gaze shifted anxiously from each finger that protruded from the walls, their bloodied presence revealing the exposed phalangeal bones, their hues tainted by the crimson fluid. Overwhelmed with revulsion, your head whirled in a nauseating manner, unable to tolerate the repugnance before you.

As the sensation of vomit surged uncontrollably, you swiftly clasped your abdomen, succumbing to its intensity and disgorging the contents of your stomach.

As you expelled the contents of your stomach, the regurgitated food landed repulsively on the ground. Simultaneously, you struggled to catch your breath, your throat and esophagus ablaze from the corrosive stomach acid that accompanied the vomiting. Overwhelmed by a burning sensation, you instinctively clutched at your chest in despair, desperately gasping for air.

This reaction was unprecedented, as these circumstances were nothing compared to the gruesome crime scenes you had encountered before. However, the sight that now haunted you was beyond horrifying—The scenes on the crime scene might be more brutal and horrifying in the perspective of others, but fuck, this was more horrifying in your point of view.

Fingers were grotesquely displayed upon your walls, gruesomely nailed in place. Both severed fingers from hands and feet were arranged in this macabre exhibit, leaving you utterly revolted.

As you breathed heavily, your lungs felt burdened and your chest throbbed painfully. Gradually lifting your gaze, saliva slowly trickled from your mouth, intermingled with traces of vomit that had inadvertently stained your clothes. The previous cut on your foot, which once caused you considerable discomfort, seemed inconsequential compared to the searing pain originating from your bruised esophagus.

As you carefully observed the fingers, There was a significant change in the size of your pupils—It shrunk down in shock. Some of the fingers had an unmistakable feminine appearance, while others displayed a more masculine quality. The sight of these fingers caused a sharp, involuntary reflex as you instinctively averted your eyes, overwhelmed by a sensation that made you cringe in discomfort—You felt as if you were going to vomit once again.

“Come on, breathe, [Name]...”

You told yourself.

The offensive stench of severed fingers combined with the repugnant odor of your vomit further intensified your disgust, while your chest continued to burn fiercely.

“Calm the fuck down, [Name].. calm down... breathe..”

You urged yourself to regain composure, but despite your efforts, you couldn’t manage to achieve it. The intensity of your emotions caused an overwhelming surge of hot tears that pooled in your mouth, leaving you surprised that you still had the capacity to cry given the torrent of tears you had shed upon discovering your boyfriend’s infidelity.

The bitter taste of regurgitated stomach acid lingered in your throat, a distressing reminder of the moment when you couldn’t contain the contents of your stomach any longer, resulting in a forceful expulsion and a fiery sensation in your esophagus.

Overwhelmed by despair, you found yourself clutching at your hair, desperately digging your nails into your scalp as you pulled at your [H/c] colored tresses, hoping that this agonizing reality would dissolve into a mere figment of your imagination or a horrendous nightmare.

Already enduring a dreadful day, this traumatic scene shattered your fragile emotional state, sending waves of anguish through every fiber of your being, making you fear that you might lose consciousness.

With each successive backward step, your cheeks were drenched in a seemingly endless stream of briny tears, as if the act of retreating physically symbolized your desire to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil consuming you.

With trembling and unsteady hands, you hastily reached into your pockets and frantically retrieved your phone.

It almost slipped from your shaky fingers, but you managed to tighten your grip on it. Filled with fear, you immediately dialed the number for your department, desperate to share the terrifying news that had just unfolded before your eyes. The sheer terror coursing through your veins made it difficult to steady your voice as you trembled with every word you spoke.

“Please, please, pick up!”

You couldn’t comprehend how these gruesome objects could have appeared in your fucking bathroom without your knowledge. Fingers, bloodied and gruesome, were inexplicably plastered on your wall, mocking you with a message that sent shivers down your spine. “Wish granted” it read, like a sick joke or a cruel twist of fate—What kind of sick psycho would do that?

You are in danger.

Deep down, you desperately hoped that it was all just an elaborate prank, but the harsh reality crept in as you realized the horrifying truth. This was real. The sight of the bones protruding from the severed fingers, the nauseating smell that permeated the air; it was all too real to fucking deny. You were in danger. Someone broke into your house and placed those nasty things, you will probably be the next victim— no, no, you shouldn’t think like that, you needed to fucking calm down. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Pick the fuck up, come on, come on, please, please!!”Your voice cracked with desperation as you urged the recipient of the call to answer. After what felt like an eternity, they finally picked up on the other end.

“Fuck, fuck...”

You breathed out, the relief that washed over you was drowned out by the urgency in your voice as you struggled to convey the gravity of the situation.

“I need help, fuck, fuck, please... i need it asap!” Your words were slurred and rushed, with your fear causing you to stumble over your sentences, barely able to articulate your pleas.

“lieutenant? What’s wrong? You seemed to be panicking.”

“Come here, please, please, come here as soon as possible! I’m begging you!” Your voice quivered with a mix of terror and desperation as you practically wailed into the phone. The overwhelming sense of danger that loomed over you threatened to consume your every thought, leaving you trembling in its wake.

“Lieutenant [Name], calm down please, i cannot understand you, breathe lieutenant.”

The person on the other end of the line tried to calm you down, struggling to understand your panicked state.

“No! P-please! I beg you! I-I’m in danger! I need help, ASAP!” You cried out, your voice cracking under the weight of the fear that gripped you. Gathering whatever courage you had left, you knew you had to escape the horrors that surrounded you. Without hesitation, you dashed towards the door, paying no mind to the disarray of your appearance. Your hair was wild and disheveled from the frantic tugging and pulling, while your clothes were stained with the remnants of your own vomit. You didn’t even bother to slip on your shoes, desperate to flee as fast as possible, clutching onto your phone as if it were your only lifeline.

“I-i’m in danger, s-someone just fucking— blood, blood everywhere!”

You shouted frantically, your words tumbling out in a rush. The sight of disembodied fingers had sent you into a state of panic and fear. As you hurriedly fled the scene, your foot unintentionally landed on the broken shards of the road, causing searing pain to shoot through your body. Despite the agony, you dared not glance back towards your dwelling, consumed by the urgency of escape. Each breath you took was labored and heavy while physical exertion and emotional turmoil that coursed within your veins.

“Lieutenant, please take a moment to catch your breath,” the concerned voice from the other end of the line implored—you were talking too fast after all and your breaths came in ragged gasps.

The person on the call was genuinely worried about your well-being, but the sheer intensity and speed of your words made it challenging for them to grasp the full extent of your distress. What did you truly mean by ‘fingers’? The mention of that word stirred memories within them, reminiscent of the horrifying ordeal your boyfriend and best friend had endured just hours before. Both of them had suffered the gruesome fate of having their fingers, hands, and feet forcibly severed. And now, here you were, frantically babbling about fingers and succumbing to panic. Your rapid-fire speech only served to further hinder comprehension.

“Lieutenant, please try to compose yourself,” the voice urged, attempting to soothe your frenzied state once more. This behavior was uncharacteristic of you, as you were never one to succumb to panic easily, unless something truly devastating had befallen you.

Between sobs, you managed to utter,

“Fingers on my walls, blood... blood was everywhere.” The words trembled with anguish and terror as you continued to run, tears streaming down your face. The sight that had confronted you was undoubtedly traumatizing, imprinted in your mind like a horrifying image that refused to fade.

“And i fucking know who those fucking fingers belong to!” you suddenly declared,

“They’re from Earl and Jhenicca!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuckling quietly to himself, Jack discreetly pressed the play button on his phone once again, the soft melody of the recorder filling his ears through the earphones he wore. The recording, which captured your horrified scream upon discovering his little surprise gift for you, played on repeat as he leaned against the walls of your bedroom.

The sound of your screams, like a symphony to his ears, resonated deeply within him. As he listened intently, tapping his gloved hand against his masked face, he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t get the chance to witness the ‘gift’ he had carefully prepared for you in your bedroom.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were having your break down, he had been concealed within your closet all this time, meticulously recording each moment of your suffering.

Every cry and retching sound had become music to his ears, fueling his sadistic pleasure. As was his usual routine when stalking you, he overheard your emotional breakdown while you were alone in your car, expressing a fervent wish for your unfaithful boyfriend and treacherous best friend to suffer a painful demise. And so, he decided to grant your fucking wish!

In his twisted mind, he saw himself as doing you a favor by eliminating the people who had caused you pain— They deserved nothing but torture and pain upon hurting you and he couldn’t help but wonder how that pathetic excuse of a man managed to pull someone like you.

Fuck, you were just so cute when you were wailing that he couldn’t help but want to hear that pretty cries of yours more, and so he killed your boyfriend and bestfriend to add more pain and make you more vulnerable, break you apart. And he killed your beloved bestfriend and boyfriend for you, after all, that’s what you wanted, right? right? right? You wanted this. You wished for this.

He deserves to be praised for doing such a great job in making you mentally unstable.

You provided him great amusement. as always in the past, you would display intense effort in attempting to identify the perpetrator and obtain even the slightest hint. Your unwavering determination, firm resolve, and intellectual capabilities were captivating, drawing him towards you.

For him, it was particularly enjoyable to unravel the complexities of someone as resilient as yourself, and break that fucking adamant nature of you, unlike certain shy timid schoolgirls who become frightened merely at the sight of blood.

He sought amusement and you were the sole individual capable of providing it to him without inducing him in boredom.

Your breakdown both surprised and amused him greatly, providing him with a sense of power over your vulnerable state. The scent of your blood, when your feet were cut on broken glass, wafted into his nostrils, providing an intoxicating allure that seemed almost heavenly to him.

And it made him wonder about how you tastes like.

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