#Shutter Stroll

[greetingsfromdigitalworlds]

Bold. A month of Shutter Stroll 9/31.

(Game: Shutter Stroll)

[runningonrempe]

don’t be shy nando, drop the photos

[arabian-batboy]

Never pegged Maya for a Nightwing's fangirl? Always thought she would be more of a Red Hood's fangirl...

[neontaxidermy]

I NEED need need an indie dev to come out with another good new art-photography game

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

[hollytoshaw]

a sunday kind of love | harry lewis

summary: y/n and harry's wholesome sunday together face claim: dua lipa

a/n: feel free to request anything harry lewis related!!! thinking about writing a longer fic instead of instagram au's soon so any ideas would be much appreciated <33

other stuff by me linked here: masterlist

- y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by chrismd10 and 650,242 others! y/n_username sunday mornings with my love tagged: wroetoshaw

...

w2sfan24 omg mother feeding us this sunday morning liked by y/n_username ♥️

anesongib looking good bogger

chrismd10 smash

behzingagram oh harry 🥵

ynw2slover this picture screams post shag

sidemenfan1 i'm so down bad for this man

arthurtv the man’s a greek god

tobjizzle harry is so clear

calfreezy lazy arse is always in bed

-

wroetoshaw posted an instagram story! y/n_username posted an instagram story!

story replies to wroetoshaw:

↳ calfreezy enough food to feed all 7 sidemen on that plate bog liked by wroetoshaw ♥️

↳ behzingagram must be bulking season with the size of that plate of food ↳ wroetoshaw big boys need food liked by behzingagram ♥️

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y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by taliamar and 310,243 others! y/n_username lazy sundays tagged: wroetoshaw

...

taliamar such cuties

freyanightingale wholesome babes

ksi how many plants do you two need ↳ y/n_username always room for more jj

calfreezy that jumper is outrageous bog liked by y/n_username ♥️

callux rate the jumper bog

w2sfan3 love these two together

sidemenlover5 bet they're watching the new sidemen sunday ↳ y/n_username of course

w2slover the cutest couple to exist

sidemenw2s mum and dad 🥲

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y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by faithlouiseak and 356,092 others! y/n_username strolling around the big city 🏙️ tagged : wroetoshaw

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faithlouiseak adorable 💘

w2sfan y/n giving us harry pics on the daily i love her

ynlover coffee looks so good

w2synfanpage our parents looking so cute

calfreezy any further and bog would be swimming in the thames ↳ y/n_username i should of pushed him in

sideman2 i'd sell my soul if it meant spending a sunday with these two 😭

-

wroetoshaw posted an instragram story!

story replies to wroetoshaw:

↳ callux you're spoilt rotten liked by wroetoshaw ♥️

-

For Y/N and Harry, Sundays were sacred - a precious day of peace amidst the chaos of their busy lives. It was the one day of the week they cherished above all else, a day in which Harry had no sidemen shoots and Y/N wasn't stuck halfway across London in a studio working late nights recording songs.

Each Sunday morning, as the sun peeked through their shutter blinds, Y/N and Harry would wake up with a sense of anticipation and excitement. The pair would brew a pot of fragrant coffee (with some independent coffee beans that Harry had picked up on his travels), the rich aroma filling their cozy kitchen as Y/N started cooking up Harry's favourite breakfast, a full English.

With their cups of coffee in hand, they would retreat to their sunlit living room, adorned with plush sofas and soft blankets, and settle in for a day of relaxation. Cuddled up together on the sofa, their legs entwined, as they indulged in some of their favourite pastimes - watching random Youtube videos they had saved to their watch later or scrolling through Tiktok, showing each other silly videos that they knew the other would find hilarious.

As the morning turned to afternoon, Harry and Y/N would muster up the energy to venture outdoors for a leisurely stroll through quiet London streets, hand in hand, breathing in the crisp air. They would visit their favourite spots - Y/N dragging Harry into overpriced clothing boutiques, him following behind, arms crossed, pretending he didn't enjoy seeing her get excited over a questionable-looking pair of shoes. Not long after, Y/N would grow tired of shopping, squeezing Harry's arm to get his attention, ''I'm hungry again, '' she’d say, to which he'd roll his eyes but would rush to fish his phone out of his pocket to find a quaint cafe on Google Maps that she could have a pastry in.

Upon returning home, they would make a simple lunch together - a spread of sandwiches, salads and soup - which they would enjoy in the comfort of their small balcony attached to their flat. Even though it was small, Y/N had decorated it with some garden furniture, fairy lights and a few plants, transforming it into an oasis of greenery and comfort. Harry hated to admit it but she had a better eye for decorating than he did.

As the sun began to set and the sky turned shades of pink and orange, they would go back inside to cozy up on their sofa, covering one another with blankets. A warm glow on their faces as they shared stories of dreams they had the night before, their voices becoming hushed in the quiet of the evening.

When the series they were watching came to an end and stars emerged in the night sky outside, Harry and Y/N would retire to their bedroom, hearts full and bodies weary from a day spent in each other's company. The pair would fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms, grateful for the precious gift of Sundays - a day to relax and revel in the love they shared.

Ready to do it all again next week.

-

hollytoshaw : i'm obsessed with making these so hopefully you all enjoy them because i really enjoy making them <333

[444rockstargf]

ive never made a request before im a bit nervy omg

but could u maybe do smth about like a sweet innocent little y/n meeting euro (or maybe even kappa) and he just wants to ruin her innocence and make her a total whore for him (maybe slight undertones of cnc IF youre comfortable with that)

K IM NERVOUS TY

don't be nervous, anon! thank you so much for reaching out & sharing your ideas!

"said i was flawless, true perfection." | euronymous

ridin'. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart@imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.7k

contents: blowjob, public sex, masturbation

who the hell thought it would be a good idea to sell lana del rey vinyls in a black metal record store?

business at the shop had been slow. euronymous sat behind the cashier, lighting himself a cigarette as the clock neared noon. he sighed deeply, putting his feet on the desk as he took the tv remote, flipping through channels mindlessly. he’d figured to take his break a little early. it didn’t seem like anyone was planning on showing up anyway.

the sun outside shone just a little too bright. euronymous groaned, standing up and making his way to the window to close the blinds. he peeked outside through the glass, the streets nearly empty with the exception of the occasion person strolling by. he grumbled, closing the shutters and rubbing a stressed hand over his face. he needed to make a sale, even if it was only one. all he needed was an angel from heaven to stroll by…

the bell above the door chimed, snapping euronymous out of his train of thoughts. “we’re off for break, man. come back in an hour.” he muttered. you froze in your tracks, raising an eyebrow. you cleared your throat and he glanced over at you. “i said get los-” he finally locked eyes with you, seeing a woman instead of his usual audience.

his eyes were wide with shock as they travelled down your body. you were just about the furthest thing from death metal he’d ever seen walk into the shop. it’s not like you were adorned in pastel rainbows, but he’d never expect someone like you to show up at a store like this.

he cleared his throat, walking back behind the desk as you began to stroll through the shop. “i don’t think we have the type of music you listen to, lady?” already at the section for the artist you were looking for, you looked at him. “you sure? cuz i think i see what i need right here.” you rolled your eyes, starting to flip through different albums as euronymous glared at you.

this new sale was already attracting all the wrong types of people. you looked like a doll, one meant to be used and destroyed by a ruthless owner. not wandering through a black metal store like it was your second home. silence filled the environment, much to your comfort but it made euronymous very uncomfortable. he’d been used to cracking conversations with whoever walked through the door, but he didn’t know how to go about that with you.

after taking a deep breath, he spoke. “everything going okay over there?” his words were forced, but you looked back at him with a smile. “going just fine, thanks.” your sweet words had a bite to them, like you were mocking him for something. he found himself getting intrigued about a person he had met less than a minute ago.

after what felt like an eternity, you picked 5 vinyls and took them to the cashier. you set them down in front of him, you two now less than a foot apart. he glanced at you as he rang up your items. “you come to places like this often, doll?” you swallowed hard, shaking your head. he added up the total before reading it out to you. “your total will be $401.59.” your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “400 dollars?! i don’t have that kind of money on me!” you bent over to read the total off his screen, your tight dress slipping down your chest slowly and revealing your cleavage to him.

your breasts waved right in front of his eyes and his breath grew shallow. your arousing scent filled his nostrils. he squirmed slightly in his seat, heart hammering in his chest. you were almost completely revealing your tits to him compeltely by accident. he had only know you for a few minutes and was already getting a taste of how naive you were.

his gaze bored into your chest until you stood upright again, picking at your fingernails. “i-i had no idea that these would be so expensive…” euronymous clasped his hands over his lap, a boner already sprouting underneath. “well you’ve gotta pay for them one way or another, lady.” he paused, a sinister idea brewing in his mind. “i’d hate to get the cops involved in our business.”

your heart stopped for a second as you frantically shook your hea.d “n-no, of course not…” you sighed deeply, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. you looked right into his cold eyes, speaking so softly that he could barely hear you. “p-please, find it in your heart to help me out. i’ll… i’ll do anything…” that line alone was the perfect telltale of how much porn you watched, but maybe euronymous was the clueless one for not picking up on your obvious hints.

you fiddled with the thin chain aorund your neck, pouting slightly as his pupils dilated. he stood up from his seat with a small grin, extending his hand to you. “let’s step into my office, sweetheart. then we can talk business.” you nodded, taking his cold, pasty hand in yours as he walked you into the small room behind him, locking the door.

he looked at you right in your cartoon eyes, your face resembling one of a make-believe character that was too good to be true. he leaned against his personal desk, beckoning you to come closer to him. ou stood right infront of him, his arm slowly slithering around your waist. he spoke in a whisper, eyes locked on your nipples that barely poked out through your dress.

“you want those records real bad, don’t you?” you nodded, chest rising and falling slowly as you took deep reaths. his smile turned slightly sadistic as he pulled you into him, his breath hitting the cave of your ear. “then i’m going to make you work for it, whore…” you almost choked as euronymous grabbed the neck of your dress, tugging it down and making your tits pop out.

your gasped, your pierced nipples painfully erect. he kneaded your bugs between his fingers, making your knees go weak, much to his pleasure. the boner he had been fighting all this while was roaring to be let out, a mess of precum already spilling in his black jeans. “get on your knees, bitch.” you went down without protest, your face an inch away from his bulge. he grabbed the back of your head, bringing your lips to it and making you kiss him through the fabric, a low groan escaping his lips.

his dick throbbed and tiwtched through the denim, his body instantly reacting to your indirect touch. “tell me you want this cock, doll… say it.” you swallowed hard, gazing up at him trough your eyelashes as you spoke hoarsely. “i-i want your cock, sir…” you didn’t know what to address him as, so you went with the best choice. he smiled, his hand moving to unbuckled the weapon of a belt that was around his thin waist.

the metal clanged to the ground. he unbuttoned his jeans, biting his lip as his cock sprung out and slapping the base of his stomach, nearly hitting you in the face. you flinched, mouth gaping open. “i-it’s so big…” you whispered, making him chuckle. “and you’re gonna take every inch of it, you hear me?” you nodded, feeling a soaking sensation spreading in your panties.

he gave himself a few lazy pumps, connecting the tip with your lips. you opened you mouth slightly, not enough for him to fit himself in. he grabbed your jaw, forcing it open all the way before shoving himself all the way in. you gagged eyes welling with tears as he grabbed the side of your head.

he put on a fake pout. “aw, too big for you, angel?” his arrogance was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, but you let him have it. a deal was a deal. one you adjusted to his size, you slowly began to bob your head up and down his shaft, gazing up at him with shiny eyes. his core heated up as he listened to your lewd gagging and gurgling.

“you’re a natural, you nasty bitch…” his eyes shaded like a lust-filled haze, as if you were the only thing in the world right now. your hands felt completely useless in this whole ordeal, so you reach one underneath your dress, starting to touch yourself through your panties. you moaned softly, the vibrations feeling like pure bliss to him.

his hair feel into his face as profanities slurred out from him. he slammed his cock into your throat, not even lettinig you get a breath of air. but the pleasure outweighed the discomfort for you, your fingers coating in your liquids as you slipped your panties to the side. he noticed this in an instant, his voice growing shaky. “y-yeah… touch yourself for me, you slut…”

you used your other hand to fondle his balls as they slapped against your chin. his tip repeatedly rammed into your uvula, the slaty taste of his precum making your throat convulse around him. he used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks. he forcefully fucked your face as you fingered yourself even quicker. his cock abosrbed your moans like a sponge, the feeling being better than anything he’d ever felt.

his moans becamemore intense and more frequent as the warmth of your throat took him in like a blanket. time began to go elastic as euronymous felt the pleasure getting to his head. the sound of your gurgling was intoxicating. you swirled your tongue around his girth, finally pushing him to the edge. he bit his lip, drawing blod as he whipped himself out of your mouth and shot his cum onto your tits like he was frositng a cake.

you panted as he the string s his you, a smile growing on your face. “such a dirty girl…” you licked his tip, cleaning off the last bit of cum and finishing him off. his breath was heavy like he just ran a marathon. you stood back up, tucking your tits back into your dress and trying not to ruin it with his cum.

euronymous slowly tucked his cock back into his pants, fixing up his hair as the sound of customers reminded him of where he was. he cleared his throat, looking at you deeply. “it was a pleasure doing business with you ma’am. enjoy the records, completely free of charge.”

author's note: back to shcool tomorrow :((

[torialefay]

can u do prompt #6 w/ i.n? (:

public sex with jeongin 🤫

jeongin x reader (f); smut 🔞

• you had been teasing innie all day. to be fair, it was his fault. why did he have to look so damn good?!

• in his fitted top and his tight pants, you couldn't help but stare at the lines along his body.

• he had promised to take you out for a shopping date. anything you wanted would be yours.

• you'd done your rounds at some of your favorite luxury brand stores and you'd chosen a couple of things here and there. as cliché as it sounded, you really did love shopping. the way your boyfriend looked at you, helping you pick out clothes and eyeing you with a smirk when you tried them on for him, was driving you crazy.

• the two of you had decided on one last stop- a department store that was just across the street.

• as you strolled around, you couldn't help but notice how great jeongin's waist looked in his tight shirt. jokingly at first, you made sure no one was around you before running a hand along his chest down to his waistband.

• "you've got to wear this shirt more often," you winked. "you look good today," you smiled, flirting.

• this was one of your absolute favorite things to do- just to get innie riled up in public where there was nothing he could do about it.

• "hush," he looked down at you, playfully shoving you into one of the clothing racks surrounding you.

• you gasped down at your arm dramatically, the one that had been pushed into the clothes. you opened your mouth to make a shocked face.

• "innie, i can't believe you," you joked while pouting, rubbing your arm as if he'd actually hurt you.

• "oh no baby, are you okay? did i hurt you?" he took a step closer to reach for your arm and rub it. he looked genuinely concerned.

• you saw this as your opportunity to strike again.

• "i was just kidding innie, i'm fine," you said, grabbing his hand and pulling his body in closer to yours. you let your hand run along his lower torso and rest for a moment on his pelvic bone.

• "but i could be doing better," you whispered, moving your hand down to graze his bulge.

• he frozen suddenly, beginning to look around the room. it was empty. well, apart from the two of you and a shit ton of clothing racks.

• "baby, we can't. we're in public," he looked down at you, scolding.

• you contemplated for a minute before leaned up on your toes to get more level to him, leaning your head up to his ear.

• "please innie? we can be quick," you whispered, smiling and going to land a soft kiss to his neck and ear. if you were gonna talk him into this, you'd have to seduce your way into it.

• you let your hand grab fully to his bulge which, you didn't think you were just imagining, was getting a bit harder than usual.

• his eyes shot wild, but he didn't back away. you just smiled, eyes filling with lust thinking of how hot you were making him. you could tell he was thinking.

• "we would get in so much trouble," you said, as you began to massage him through his pants. you watched as he huffed out a breath, getting physically antsy. you knew he would give in. you just had to keep going.

• you made sure to rub him slowly, taking your time to let him feel everything and formulate what you wanted to say to him.

• "just trust me baby, i need you. come with me?" you asked, rubbing your hand up and down his shaft over his shorts. you cocked your brow awaiting his response.

• he stood there for a moment shuttering at your touch. you could tell he was getting horny and fed up with you.

• he didn't say anything, just took a step in closer and placed his hand over yours, encouraging you to jerk him harder.

• you smiled and paused for a minute, getting wet at how needy he looked. how willing he was to risk everything in this moment for a quick minute with you.

• you made sure to give his cock one final hard but slow jerk before grabbing a few random items off the racks around you. you swiftly took his hand in yours, making your way down the aisles to find the fitting rooms.

• once inside, it was all bets off.

• you must have flipped a switch in jeongin as he all but ripped your clothes off of you, letting out a low growl.

• "shhhh," you instructed him. you whispered as quietly as you could, now standing naked in front of him. "someone could walk in. we can't let anyone hear us innie."

• he took your advice, but didn't look sympathetic. he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around until you almost lost your footing and fell with your arms into the door. luckily, your arms caught you and stabilized you from going all the way down.

• by the time you'd caught yourself and realized what had happened, jeongin had already let his pants and underwear fall down. he was now ferociously palming himself in his hand.

• you let out a surprised gasp as you felt his tip along your pussy folds, beginning to quickly rub up and down from behind in your bent over position.

• and HOLY FUCK it felt good. you didn't realize how worked up you'd gotten while trying to tease jeongin this whole time.

• you savored the sweet sensation it gave you when he rubbed the tip of his cock along your clit, making you want to let out a moan yourself.

• without warning, he plunged himself deep inside you, bottoming out with his first stroke.

• everything in you wanted to scream out at the sudden stretch. you wanted to cry to him about how big he felt inside you. but you couldn't. you bit your lip, breathing out as slowly as you could instead. you gripped the door in front of you, bracing for what was to come.

• innie noticed your reaction and spread a smile across his face. he knew you were gonna get what you deserved. but he also knew he had to be quick. it was only a matter of time before anyone else came in.

• he started pounding into you quickly, going harder and harder with each thrust. the grip he had on your hips holding you right where he wanted you.

• he didn't hold back, testing his limits of how rough he could get before the sound of skin hitting skin got too loud. he was convinced to fuck the shit out of you.

• you tried your best to hold on and stabilize yourself as he threw shots into you. each stroke felt so pronounced and so hot in this new environment. your wetness was building and you just hoped it wouldn't be too much to make the noises louder. but FUCK with how deep he was hitting, you couldn't help it.

• you let your mind drift a bit and focus on how his dick felt inside of you, how he was angling himself in just the right spot to make you feel good. how animalistic this all felt with him giving it to you like this.

• all of a sudden, you heard footsteps. innie did too as he stopped his thrusts to wait out and see what was going on.

• you listened as someone situated themselves into the changing room a couple of doors away. you heard the rattling of hangers as someone was freeing the clothing from them.

• feeling bummed, you let your face droop a little bit, mentally preparing yourself to straighten up and get fully clothed.

• you had to bring a hand to your mouth to stop from gasping when you felt the sudden movement of jeongin wrap a hand around your waist and pull you to standing, still with his dick inside of you.

• he took a couple of low, slow strokes to see how much he could get away with now. once he felt comfortable, he began to pound in as much as he could.

• he reached the other hand around to your clit, trapping you in a hug that he could fuck into.

• as he rutted his hips up, he began to slowly circle his fingers around your clit, just the way you'd shown him you liked it.

• you almost jumped at how suddenly it was so sensitive, like the tiniest touch would send you into overdrive.

• jeongin was relentless with his hands and his thrusts. eventually, it got too overwhelming for you and you knew you were close to cumming.

• "jeongin," you panted out.

• "shhhhh," he whispered against your neck into your ear. in as lowly of a voice as he could get out. "i'm close too. i'm gonna cum. get ready."

• and with that, he rutted his hips as deeply into you as he possibly could, his face scrunching up from the pleasure of how good you felt around his. you were too tight for him to last any longer.

• you let yourself focus on how deep he was hitting you and how amazing it felt to be so fucked out.

• a shock of pleasure shot through your clit, making your knees feel momentarily weak. then again, then again. suddenly, a surge of pleasure came over you, starting at your clit, making your toes curl and the warm, catatonic sedation run up your legs and into your back. your legs completely gave out as you gave in and let the orgasm take over.

• jeongin continued to finger you ferociously until you were convulsing on him, having him completely support your weight as he continued to fuck into you.

• you could do nothing but cover your mouth to keep any screams or tears from escaping as you rode out the biggest high of your life.

• as jeongin placed his last hard, deep strokes, he suddenly bit your shoulder, stopping himself from moaning out as he came inside you.

• he continued to pump in until he had felt his complete release.

• once you had both calmed down and were off of your highs, jeongin stabilized you and took himself out of you before slowly turning you around to look at him.

• the look on your face was so fucked out that he wanted to take a picture. he wanted to have a physical reminder to show you what happens when you tease him.

• quickly he reached for his phone on the bench behind you two, toggling to the camera app and snapping a quick photo of your face. he smiled cockily before letting out a chuckle at how cute you looked. what he'd done to you.

• "quit that, you perv," you whispered as you pouted and crossed your arms, trying to act tough.

• he laughed before bringing his hands to your cheeks to squish your face lightly. "oh so I'M the perv?"

[russos-ventitre]

georgia stanway x reader | memories from the dark room 🫧

✘ summary: georgia surprises you with a reusable film camera so the two of you can make cute memories together

✘ warnings/tags: tooth-rotting fluff, film date

✘ words: 982

a/n: there isnt enough love for george so im fixing that now, also sorry its short

You sat comfortably in your shared flat, having a late tea in the kitchen as you heard keys jingling outside your door.

"Babe! I'm home! And I've brought presents!" Georgia shouted as she locked the door.

"Presents?" You questioned, pulling her into a tight hug and burying your face in her neck.

The midfielder's arms came around your waist pulling you closer as she pressed a kiss to your head.

"Yeah!" She replied excitedly. "You're gonna love it, babe!"

The two of you pulled away from the hug, you finally noticing the shopping bag dangling from her wrist. Your eyes followed her hands as she pulled out two reusable Kodak film cameras for the pair of you, both in your respective favourite colours. Your heart melted at the sight, previously mentioning before how you were gaining an interest in photography ever since you got your hands on her FujiFilm X100V, never looking back since. Throughout your monthly anniversaries, she would get you photography-related presents, one of them being your precious instant film camera and another being a custom keychain with pictures of the two of you made out of an old film roll. It was small gestures like that, that made your heart swoon for the short brunette.

"George!" You squealed, pulling her into another hug, this time peppering her now flush cheeks with little pecks.

The two of you rushed into the living room, you struggled to contain your excitement, your legs bouncing as you watched Georgia carefully insert the rolls of film into the cameras, handing over yours first. It was your first time shooting on film, only ever shooting digitally on Georgia's camera and your Evo or using your Evo for instant film shots, so you were buzzing with adrenaline.

You held the new toy in your hands ready to test drive it, watching as the brunette shifted herself closer to you, showing you how to properly hold it and not block the lens.

"So if you grab it like this.." She stuck her tongue out, a concentrated look painting her face. "..yeah.. like that, then you should be good to go. This dial here is how you wind your film.. this switch here is how you turn on your flash.. and this button here is your shutter."

You smiled at her through the entire explanation, knowing pretty much everything she said but allowing her to go ahead and teach you anyway, it made you happy watching her so who were you to stop her.

"Can we shoot some film today?" You asked quietly, biting your lower lip, hoping that she wouldn't deny your request.

"Actually I was hoping we could go out into town and take some pictures together... that's kinda why I bought them." She admitted sheepishly, fidgeting with the sleeves of her England hoodie.

The two of you strolled your way through your neighborhood, hand-in-hand, lightly swinging them about as you walked into town. As you walked through the markets Georgia would point out things to you that she deemed 'good photo spots', guiding you to a good standing position and standing behind you to help you take the pictures. It was sweet, it was soft, and you very much enjoyed the feeling of your girlfriend's biceps around you as her hands were on top of yours, helping you stablise and take some shots. You occasionally turning your head to the side mid-photo and placing a quick peck on her cheeks as her face leaned over your shoulder.

"Are you gonna take any, Gee?"

"Y-Yeah.. just wanna help you first.. that's all." She blushed, rubbing the back of her neck.

The midfielder took a step back, watching in awe as you proceeded to take the next few shots of some of the flowers at one of the stalls, noticing how a particular bouquet had your attention. When you weren't looking Georgia talked to one of the workers at the flower stall, asking for that specific bouquet that you were admiring.

Unknowingly, you continued to wind up your film and snap more pictures of your surroundings, feeling a light tap at your shoulder after your 26th exposure.

You turned around to see your girlfriend holding that same bouquet you were admiring. You happily took the flowers from her, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "You're adorable, Gee."

The two of you continued strolling throughout the market, taking more pictures of cute things and being madly in love with each other. You caught Georgia taking a few sneaky pictures of you whilst the two of you wandered about, blushing every time you saw the flash in your peripherals.

"I'll make sure to send our rolls off to that developing company first thing tomorrow, babe." The brunette replied, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as the two of you walked back home before it got too dark.

A Few Days Later..

"[y/n/n]! Our film is here!" Georgia shouted from the front door, having retrieved the parcel with your prints.

She hurriedly opened up the box, finding two rolls of negatives, all of your photos printed out, and two CDs with the digitals.

"They're beautiful." You sighed, happy that your first time shooting on film was a complete success, thanks to your love.

Georgia smiled at you, seeing that you were satisfied with the prints. "We could make a little scrapbook with them. Have a little scrapbook dedicated to all our dates."

"Yeah?" Your eyes met hers, seeing how her features softened when she looked into yours.

"Yeah." She hummed, leaning close to press a delicate kiss to your lips, your hand coming to cup her face.

The two of you made it a habit, from now on, to always bring film cameras wherever you went, adding more magic to your memories. It was simple yet beautiful and you couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else.

@/you_username

liked by stanwaygeorgia and 13,956 others

@/your_username gee bought me flowers 🥹

view all 937 comments

stanwaygeorgia only bc youre cute :)))

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎leahwilliamsonn gag me with a spoon

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ keirawalsh oi leave em alone

[yaut-jaknowit]

Could you write Male reader x male yautja maybe even Vic'tao and Uihoy where they had really limited human contact and even less knowledge about dating. I love the concept of Yautja trying to court someone but ultimately just freaking the human out more and then changing their ways. This exactly, pls. Where they try to court the reader, maybe even kidnap him to show him that they are very strong etc. bring him skulls and at first they don't understand why he keeps rejecting them and fighting back until one day when they finally give him some device to understand each other and he just tells them what absolute monsters they are etc. And then obviously some fluff where they slowly win back the reader's trust and eventually the reader falls in love

You can obviously chose which yautja actually shows up I just like the two but you can definitely choose someone else, i would just like a male yautja

Lost in Translation

Pairings: Vic'tao (Male Yautja) x Male!Reader x Uihoy (Male Yautja)

Word Count: 4462

Summary: On their first trip to earth, Vic'tao and Uihoy were excited! New creatures to hunt, a new planet to explore. Vic'tao spots you. There's something about you that interests him. He can't shake it. So, he does what any sensible Yautja does: courts you. Hey! Why are you screaming?

Author Note: I love this classic idea. Because in all reality, if any Yautja came up to the average person and offered a skull, you would sprint away screaming. I also love the fact I'm getting so many male reader asks! I didn't know their was so many of you out there.

Masterlist

Ao3

For centuries, Yautjas and oomans have interacted in more way than one. Yet, it all boils down to prey and predator. Vic’tao and Uihoy come strictly for the hunt. Oomans are prey. There’s nothing much else to them.

Not until they saw you.

In a dense city, filled to the brim with oomans that meander to one place to the next, there was you. Vic’tao didn’t understand what is was about you that caught his attention. In all honesty, you looked just any of the other prey that traveled in your city. But, he stopped stalking to sit upon the roof of a build across the street to watch you.

Uihoy paused as well when he noticed his mate no longer was trailing behind him. The older male huffed and shook his head. Youngsters and their short attention span. He headed back towards the mustard yellow and blue male and crouched besides him. The two of them invisible to the naked eye.

They watched as you did your oomanly duties of trading credit for a colorful drink. Uihoy nudged at Vic’tao with his shoulder. “What is it? I don’t think that ooman is much of a worthy kill,” Uihoy questioned and settled down on his haunches. The random ooman strolled out of the building and got into their vehicle.

Before you could escape from Vic’tao easily, the younger of the two threw a tiny puck. The device attached itself to the outside paneling of your vehicle. Then, you were off.

On Vic’tao’s forearm gauntlet, he checked to make sure it was tracking you. A small yellow dot followed the exact pathing on the holoscreen pulled up. He chittered to himself then turned to Uihoy. “We may go now,” he brushed off and jerked his large head in the direction they were originally heading.

The other male quirked a brow from underneath his biomask at his mate’s strange interest in that specific ooman. Uihoy didn’t get an answer. So, he started off the same path they were taking through the city.

Their hunt was about to get more interesting.

On a hot summer morning, a book in hand, you laxed on your balcony. The weekend weather is wonderful to sit outside and enjoy it. A small fan sat off of a round coffee table, blowing air up towards your face. You turned to the next page only to tense up at the feeling of being watched. All of your focus on the book was lost. You placed the book off onto the coffee table and sat up. The feeling followed like a stormy cloud. A shutter ran down the length of your spine. You finally turn on your heel and head back inside to break free.

Once the curtains were shut, the tension that filled your body fell off of you in one huge wave. Strange. You shrugged it off and headed into the kitchen for some water. Hopefully, the water could clear your head about that strange occurrence.

The refreshing water rushed down your throat and helped down your heating body. The outdoors nearly a sweltering heat during the summertime. Your gaze glanced back over to the closed curtains and tilted your head. Whoever was watching you? Your apartment’s balcony faces a tree line. So, it couldn’t be others from another apartment.

A frown broke across your features. You refilled the empty cup of water and head back towards closed curtains. With a deep breath to calm down your rising heartbeat, you pulled them back.

Nothing raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

You shrugged then reentered the tiny balcony. The eyes didn’t return. As you go to sit down back on your comfortable chair, you paused. An animal’s skull sat upon the railing.

Instead of freaking out, you were completely confused. That wasn’t there a moment ago. The glass was set down by your book. Carefully, you stepped up the random skull and peered at it closely.

It was a predator by the looks of the teeth. A canine as well. If you had to guess, it was a wolf’s skull. Amazed by the fact there was a wolf’s skull in front of you yet completely puzzled on how it got here in the span of five minutes tops. You’re on the second story. It’s not like it could fall from the sky or someone just randomly set it there.

This was purposefully.

As much as you wanted to walk away from it, you didn’t want it to fall and break. Or someone else to have it. You glanced around the tree line to possibly search for the owner or a reason to why it was here. You came up empty handed. A sigh left your lips when nothing was in sight. You carefully picked it up and brought it inside with you.

A look around the interior brought upon a place to set it on. One of the shelves in the living room. All you had to do was shift a couple of books and other décor out of the way. Once it sat upon the shelf, you stood back and admired the skull in its new home.

What was someone else’s garbage is your new treasure.

While standing there, you felt the watchful gaze of someone again. Your head snapped back over to the open balcony door only to find nothing there, eyes narrowing. You marched over to the sliding glass door then stopped.

Something was… off.

A shiver ran down your spine the longer you stood there. It took a moment for your senses to finally feel the presence of someone in front of you. Your entire body tensed up before you ripped the glass door closed. So hard, you were surprised it didn’t shatter before you. The lock was thrown. You stumbled away from the closed door, eyes wide as you stared in terror.

There was something you couldn’t see. You felt it. A heat rolling off that invisible thing. What was that?! You trembled in the middle of your living room like scared prey. What you couldn’t see terrified you. Eyes blown wide.

Whatever there moved. The thing moved. You watched as the air rippled, distorted before your eyes as it unrooted from its spot. The figure stepped up to the railing then leaped over it. Then, it was gone. You rushed forward and swiftly shut your curtains before it could return to watch you again.

To calm your racing heart, you leaned against the curtains and placed a hand on your chest. Your heart on the verge of beating out. The feeling it gave you… You felt like prey amidst a hunter.

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away from the glass door about to head to your bedroom when you remembered something. “Fuck,” you cursed. Your book was still laying on the coffee table! And, you were in a good spot as well.

A stupid, stupid idea came to mind. You peered around the curtains and saw the coast was still clear. When your gaze snapped to the coffee table… the book was gone! Your jaw dropped. Anger flared inside of you.

“You motherfucker! Stealing my book. I was in a good spot,” you screamed, hopefully whatever that thing was could hear you. Not only did it scare you but it stole your book. Oh, you were furious now. No one steels your books.

From the outside, the Yautja could still hear your shouts after the terror Vic’tao caused you. Neither of them expected less. Uihoy was entertaining Vic’tao’s fascination. What would have a Yautja interested like this. Even Uihoy himself was curious.

“Looks like the ooman took it well,” Uihoy teased his mate and patted the mustard yellow Yautja on the shoulder. The two of them still had their cloaks activated. They didn’t want their presence known to anyone besides their intended target. Vic’tao huffed and shook off Uihoy’s grip with a unseen glare thrown his way.

“Oh shush. I knew this was to happen. Oomans are prey.” Then, he lifted up the book he snatched from their target. “Look at what I got. We can learn more about the ooman.”

A deadpanned fell upon the older Yautja behind his biomask. “You stole a book.”

Vic’tao gave a scoff and purposefully shook his tresses to make them rattle. “This ooman. I want to learn more about him. Like some of things they teach you on the mothership. Oh, wait, you weren’t born on a mothership,” Vic’tao teased. All jester between the two male Yautjas

Their beginning may have started off rocky with disgust of the other, here they are.

Then, the yellow male wapped Uihoy with the book. “Learn about your target, yes? They should’ve at least taught you that.” Despite a hateful start to their relationship, they now can joke about their cultural differences. “You never know. Maybe this book has information about our target.”

Uihoy groaned and lulled his head backwards. “Dumbass, you can’t even read any of the ooman languages,” he grunted then tilted his head back to look at him.

Vic’tao raised a finger to tell the purple Yautja off, sucking in a breath before falling flat. He glanced down at the paper book in his hand and slumped on his shoulders. “I hate it when you’re right,” he mumbled, ready to throw the book when an idea struck him. “Wait! We can translate it back on the ship.” Their ship, more like Uihoy’s, had the capabilities to translate any known language into Yautja.

Another deadpanned look was thrown at Vic’tao who couldn’t see it. “Or, you can use your gauntlet,” he offered instead and tapped at the mentioned device. “This wonderful technology that be entirely versatile or did they only teach you basic hunting skills at the moment.” Vic’tao scoffed then stood up on the branch they each shared. Uihoy followed suit.

In one moment, Uihoy was free. The very next, Vic’tao pinned his into the trunk of the tree. A tight grasp wrapped around the purple Yautja’s throat and trapped him to the tree. Though, the Yautja was short, he wasn’t one to be messed with.

“I’ve got you stuck here, don’t I?” he rumbled into his ear, eyes gleaming behind his biomask.

The ground left Vic’tao’s feet. His back met the rough texture of bark, biting into his scales. Above him, Uihoy had him pinned instead. “Checkmate.”

A few days have passed since that incident occurred. Your book was long gone at this point. Another had been ordered and should be arriving in the next day or two. Despite your apprehension to leave home to go to work, you’ve pushed through and left the very next day for a stupid paycheck.

Nothing happened. No eyes. No feelings of being watched. Nor the next day. It too was free from that torment. Even on the fourth day, today, nothing has happened.

That caused you to question if it happened at all. If it wasn’t for the skull and missing book, you would’ve believed it was a fluke. A nightmare that you don’t remember waking from. Only it happening and now haunting you. The book, you could brush off as miss placing it someone stealing it from work. Besides that, the skull was your hard evidence.

Never had have you ever seen a wolf, let alone its own skull. The whole thing mystified you. All you could do in the end of scratch your head about it. How in the world does this happen to you?

Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people in your town and this thing targets you.

Now wasn’t the time to maul over your misfortune of the situation. With a sigh, you stepped out into the hallway. Your foot knocked into something on the ground. A brow quirked up as you glanced down only to find a box on the doormat. Confused, you picked it up off the ground.

It wasn’t a package. It looked like someone just randomly dropped off a box. The box itself wasn’t big. At most a foot wide and long barely even three inches tall. You checked the time on your phone really quickly before spinning on your heel and going back into your apartment. The closed behind you. You walked over to the dining table and set it down.

A short list of people who could’ve dropped it off listed off inside of your head. Yet, you felt like any of them would’ve notified you of the package. With your lips pressed tightly in a line, you carefully pulled the top of the box off.

The lid fell from your grasp before falling to the ground with a light tap.

Bones filled the small box. Horror flashed over your features. What the fuck?! You stumbled back and knocked into the kitchen counter behind you. Bones. But from what? Animal or-or human? A full body tremble raked your body.

The first thought to enter your frenzy brain was to call the police. Then rational thinking rose to the surface. They would think it was you or they may think you as crazy if these aren’t human. What were you suppose to do now? You’ve got work in less than thirty minutes and some crazy person dr-was it that thing you saw a couple of days ago?

A cold sweat rolled down your back. You had hoped it was only a one-time issue… not a recurring stalker. Wait. Do you have a stalker? Is this considered stalking?

You took a deep breath then quickly threw the box into the garbage. The bones rattled as they fell into their new and forever home. You shuttered at the sound, praying they weren’t human and damning yourself to throwing away evidence. Evidence that could paint you as the killer if they were. You ran your fingers through your hair before marching out of the door for work. Not another second to be wasted.

From his corner inside the ooman’s dwelling, Vic’tao bristled when they threw away the gift he graciously offered. He hunted down dangerous beasts for those bones and presented them to you. Then, you cast them aside.

Strange enough, you accepted the skull but refused the rib bones and femur packaged away in that box. It stumped the yellow Yautja as he meandered over to where you carelessly discarded the bones. The skull was set upon a shelve in the main room of your small dwelling. He moved over to it and peered at it. What made it different to be accepted rather than the other bones he offered to you?

He tasted your fear in the air and shrugged it off. Not that he was expecting less from a weaker creature such as yourself. Yet, there was something about you that caught his attention. Vic’tao had to try and win your hand and favor.

When you returned home, you set your keys and bag down on the kitchen counter. A peak into the garbage revealed the box was still there. Another tremble racked your body.

All day, you had hoped it was just a strange daydream or some hallucination. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

When you’re about to enter your bedroom, something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. You screeched to a halt, head whipping to find the balcony curtains opened. Just wide enough to reveal another white, shiny skull sitting on the small coffee table. Long, sharp canines veered from its mouth. Empty, eyeless sockets staring at you.

Your feet froze to the spot, refusing to move. All you could do was stare in terror at the sight.

This was purposeful. Someone was doing this on purpose. Tormenting you.

After you gained function of your limbs, you raced into your bedroom and slammed it shut behind you. The door rattling on the hinges from the force you exerted. Your back is pressed to it to ensure it stays in that same position. Your chest heaved with lungful breaths.

Vic’tao tilted his head at your reaction and huffed. Oomans are completely bewildering. Last time, you liked and accepted the last skull. So, he pulled another from his collection and even set it out in perfect sight for you. Then, you go ahead and act terrified of it.

The younger Yautja grunted and marched outside to retrieve it. This time, he held it in his hands and stood in front of the door you closed. His cloak revealing himself to the empty room. Like a patient hunter, he waited for the time to strike.

Inside of your bedroom, you heard a noise come from your living room and tensed up. What was that? You gnawed on your bottom lip then slowly pulled open the door. With it being dark, it was hard to peer through the darkness. Yet, from what you could tell, nothing had changed. You released a sigh of relief and took a step out of your room.

Only to freeze when you heard clicking. Not mechanical. As if something or someone was making the sound. Then, your eyes adjusted even to spot a figure towering in front of you.

A scream ripped at your lips. Immediately, you threw your fist at what looked to its head only to be met with metal. Your hand throbbed immensely afterwards. You screamed again then spun on your heel and began to run away. Only to smack yourself into the doorframe. All you could see was darkness fill your vision… then nothing.

In a span of less than minute, you had somehow knocked yourself out cold after trying to attack him. He chittered to himself under his mask with an amused smirk. The yellow Yautja peered down at your lifeless body then glanced over to Uihoy. “Well, that went well,” he snarked before reaching down and scooping you up. It seems like you weren’t getting the message. So, Vic’tao would have to force you to understand.

Uihoy came over and grasped your limp chin then picked up your head. His other hand ran his thumb across your cheek bone. “They’re not bad looking,” he muttered mostly to himself then let you fall limb against Vic’tao again. He looked up at Vic’tao. “What’s your plan with him?”

“Since he doesn’t get the hint, I’m going to straight up tell him. If he accepts, he accepts. If he doesn’t, we’ll let him ago,” Vic’tao answered before securing the skull to his belt. Once that was settled, the younger male left through the sliding glass door and climbing to the room of these small, compact dwellings. Uihoy’s ship was at least three times the space inside than just your dwelling alone. If you were to accept their advantages, you would get a huge upgrade. Plus, two Yautjas to protect you from any harm.

A snort came from Uihoy as he shook his head. His short, greying tresses swayed with the movement. “This is a ooman you’re talking about. They aren’t the most knowledgeable nor wise,” Uihoy chuckled and followed Vic’tao through the back door. Said door was slid shut after him.

The two of them got on top of the apartments and entered their ship that was hovering just a few feet above the roof. No one was none the wiser to this.

Vic’tao took you to the common area and let you rest on the longest couch there. Uihoy took to the helm of their ship and flew it higher into the sky. Neither of them could risk any ooman seeing them or else… death to that ooman. You are a special case as they try to woo your hand.

A pounding in your head had you grasping it, blocking out the light shining down on you. A groan voiced from your throat as you strained to sit up and held your head in two hands.

Man, you must have start a wild night of drinking to have a headache like this. No wonder why you woke up with a raging migraine.

When you finally fight off the first wave of pain to hit you, you opened your eyes and glanced around. Confusion filled your head. What in the world? This isn’t place you’ve ever been to. Fuck, you must still be asleep… yet that pain felt so real.

A mechanical whooshing caught your attention. You whipped your head around. A grave mistake but pushed through the pain that flared up.

An imposing figure stood in the doorframe. Its height easily dwarfed yours. Your jaw dropped, ready to start screamed when a massive head covered your mouth. That only caused you to freak out more.

Harsh clicking entered the air. You stared wide up at the figure leaning over you from behind, spiting out growls at the other one. The lone form before you rolled its bright orange eyes and let’s its crossed arms fall. Then, it began to stalk closer towards you. You shouted from behind the hand and scrambled backwards, only to knock into the figure.

The purple one advancing one you stopped when the yellow one spat something at it. Then, yellow tilted its head down at you.

Four sharp fangs were all you could notice on its alien face. This wasn’t something on earth. You got kidnapped by aliens! The top two raised in some sort of grin. It clicked something at you but its alien tongue went straight over its head. The purple one made a snide comment to its friend who snarl, hand tensing around your mouth.

For a moment, you fear it would accidently snap your neck. Until its hand fully fell away. Yet, it stayed behind you. Now, you were trapped between the two of them, unable to move.

The creature behind you raised a finger, as if telling to wait a moment then moved over to a wall. Its fingers pressed against a hidden button. A hiss entered the air.

Before your very eyes, the wall started to retract panels. In sort of a strange transformation, the panels revealed a hidden compartment you were shocked to see. Before you grew nervous and disgusted. Skulls and bones lined the space in the wall… like a trophy wall. Were they showing the place they would soon put your skull? Are they going to kill you?!

You gasped and launched off of the couch. The purple one reacted quicker than you could even blink. It was upon you in a moment and shoved you back down on the oversized couch. You choked on air and stared up at the imposing figure. All it did was return the gaze in a lazy fashion. Like it was bored.

“What do you want?” you finally find your voice and asked them an important question. The purple creature tilted its head then pressed a button on its strange gauntlet. It held out the device towards you again and made a motion to go again. “What do you want?”

The only thing you could think of was a translator or something of the sort. You waited impatiently for the device to do its thing and repeat what you had said.

Yellow made its way over to the two of you leaned over the couch, entering your personal space a little too much. Instead of purple answer, the other one took the time to speak towards the gauntlet.

“We are trying to court you,” an automated voice repeated to you in English. Your brain blanked at the response, jaw dropping in shock.

“Court?! Like-like dating? What the fuck?” you practically screeched at the top of your lungs and sat up higher on the couch only to accidently knock into yellow. “You guys are monsters!”

Another pause as your words are translated to them. At first, you froze at the realization of your insulting words. They could possible still kill you if they felt like it. Specially, talking like that to them. You sat there, fretting if you just signed your death notice.

Instead, the beasts tilted their heads. “Not monsters. Yautja. We are Yautja. Yes, we like to court you. We are proud hunters who if you accept us, will protect and provide for you.” Yautja? Strange name for a species. That thought was kept to yourself before you damned yourself further.

Protect and provide. That actually for you thinking for the moment. Your eyes scanned the open area around you. Wherever they’ve taken you is spacious just in this spot alone. At least twice the size of your living room alone. They called themselves hunter which is evident by the many skulls adorning the nearby wall. There was even a skull that was about the size of you.

If they could take down something of that size… you swallowed down the lump in your throat. “Can I have time to think about this? Learn about you guys? Humans don’t just walk into relationships without learning about the other people first,” you questioned, nervously fretting with the hem of your shirt.

Yellow’s eyes brightened. The figure began to purr by the sounds of it and chuffed at its partner in crime.

Purple gave a thinking face. “I did not realize human customs were different than ours. We hadn’t thought of that." This came from yellow this time. It moved from around the couch then got down on its hunched and offered the skull you saw before.

Instead of being canine this time, you realized this must be feline or something close to it. You timidly reached out and accepted it from yellow. You were thankful it didn’t outright kill you at first and took that as a good sign. “Thank you.” Yellow lifted those upper two mandibles again at you. “Um, do-do you guys have names?”

This time, purple let his arm fall to not catch his next words. “Uihoy.” He pointed towards himself. Your eyes bulged out of your head. What in the world? Not a name from this world.

“Vic’tao.” Yellow joined in and motioned towards himself. How do they expect you to form those kind of names?

Embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck. “Can you try that again?” you asked, hoping not the offend them any way possible.

For the next few moments, they helped your learned how to pronounce their alien names. In that moment, you learned quickly they meant no harm to you. They weren’t going to hurt you.

You waved goodbye after they dropped you off on the balcony of your apartment. Feeling a little giddy, you walked back inside and head towards your bedroom with a new skull. Despite all the fear you endured from them, they weren’t bad to hang around with. Maybe, once you grew to know them, you would allow for this to continued.

[greetingsfromdigitalworlds]

Scattered islands. A Month of Shutter Stroll 28/31.

(Game: Shutter Stroll)

[elikajinnie]

You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader PART 1

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader

Warnings: Blood/injury. Violence, murder, panic attacks, stalking, obsessive behaviour/ possessive behavior.

Genre: Eventual romance, Horror/Thriller

Wordcount: 13k

Sum:

"Well, I'm not laughing," You said, your voice shaky as you moved through the house, checking every nook and cranny.

"I'm not laughing either, princess," he remarked, a term that sent a chill down your spine.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"Well, you never gave me your name," he said, his voice taking on a sinister edge.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

“Pretty girls covered in blood. As such, we were each in turn treated like something rare and exotic. A beautiful bird that spreads its bright wings only once a decade. Or that flower that stinks like rotting meat whenever it decides to bloom.”

You lounged on the luxurious, long white couch, surrounded by the opulence of the spacious living room. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room, its screen broadcasting the ominous news of a series of murders gripping the city. Intrigued, you set aside your magazine, your eyes fixed on the news anchor detailing the gruesome events.

As the reporter delved into the chilling details of the latest murder, your curiosity deepened. The atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken with tension as you absorbed the unsettling information. Just as you reached for the remote to increase the volume, your mother's departure interrupted the quietude.

"I'm leaving now. You be good and stay home, alright?" Your mother's voice echoed through the room as she fumbled through her purse. You assured your mother of your compliance, bidding her farewell and locking the door behind her.

Returning to the comfort of the couch, you crawled over the backrest, disregarding the conventional way around. The remote found its way back into your hands, and you switched through channels in search of something more captivating. Finding nothing of interest, you stood and strolled to the imposing shelf beside the TV, adorned with an array of movies and decorations.

Among the diverse collection, your hand settled on a horror movie: "Your Next." It promised a refreshing twist with a resourceful final girl, a detail that appealed to your taste. Ignoring the collateral damage of two neighboring DVDs collapsing, you retrieved the movie and inserted the disc into the TV slot.

Plopping back onto the couch, you pressed play, but the movie's ominous beginning prompted you to hit pause. Rising up you headed to the kitchen in pursuit of the perfect movie snack—popcorn. The cupboard held the desired item, but with your stature, reaching proved impossible. Unfazed, you fetched a little wooden stool, conquering the height disparity.

With the popcorn secured, you turned your attention to the microwave. Engrossed in the popping symphony, you momentarily forgot about the stool now awkwardly placed in your path. As you rounded the kitchen island, your phone's ring pierced the air, and your friend Yeji's name flashed on the screen.

Answering the call, you engaged in a conversation about the latest murder, Yeji's voice laden with concern. Popcorn still in hand, you dismissed Yeji's fears, attributing the killings to a random act of violence. Unbeknownst to you, a subtle unease settled in the air.

Returning to the kitchen, you fidgeted with the knives on the island, your gaze wandering as if searching for an unseen presence. A sudden feeling of being watched sent shivers down your spine. Instinctively, you closed the balcony doors, shutters, and curtains, dispelling the eerie sensation.

With the unsettling moment behind, you resumed your movie night preparations. You bid Yeji farewell as the microwave signaled the completion of your popcorn. Snacks in hand, you adjusted the living room's lighting to a dim, cozy ambiance, casting a warm glow over the elegant surroundings.

Sinking back into the couch, you kicked your feet up on the forbidden glass table, relishing the rebellious act in your mother's absence. You popped open an energy drink, took a sip, and draped a blanket over yourrself to ward off the slight chill. In your minimalistic attire of sweatpants and a tank top, you settled into the cocoon of comfort, ready for a night of horror and suspense.

The plush, velvety blanket cocooned you on the couch as you layed sprawled. The dim lighting accentuated the opulence of the living room, and the remnants of your movie night – an empty drink and a half-eaten bowl of popcorn – scattered around you. The film's climax was unfolding on the screen as the final girl realized the treacherous intentions of those around her. You, however, had succumbed to the captivating scenes, soft snores blending seamlessly with the movie's eerie soundtrack.

A faint buzzing noise pulled you back from the realm of dreams. You hummed, your eyes fluttering open as you surveyed the living room, the movie still playing out the tense chase scene. You yawned and stretched languidly, causing the blanket to slip off your shoulders. With a groan, you paused the movie, your gaze directed towards the empty drink can on the table. Realizing your phone was missing, you decided to investigate the source of the interruption.

In the kitchen, you retrieved your misplaced phone, its screen revealing an unknown caller. The call had ended before you could answer. Intrigued, you scrolled through your recent calls, curiosity piqued by the mysterious contact. Just as you was about to turn off your phone, the device lit up again, displaying "unknown caller."

Swiping to accept the call, you greeted the unknown voice with a simple, "Hello?"

"Hello, who is this?" The voice, smoky and melodic like honey, echoed through the phone.

"Well, who are you trying to reach?" You responded, settling back onto the couch.

"What number is this?" The voice continued, a hint of uncertainty in its tone.

"Well, what number are you trying to reach?" You countered, a playful smile touching your lips.

"I don't know," the voice admitted.

"Try the number again and see if you typed it correctly," You suggested, a playful smirk dancing on your face as you hung up. However, the persistent caller dialed again, and you felt a mix of annoyance and intrigue, answering once more.

"Hellooo?" You drawled out.

"I'm sorry; I guess I dialed the wrong number," the voice apologized.

"Then why did you dial it again?" You questioned.

"I just wanted to apologize," the man explained.

"Well, you are forgiven," You replied nonchalantly, popping a few more popcorn kernels into your mouth.

"Good to know," the man said. "Do you like scary movies?" he asked eventually, his voice oddly comforting.

You nodded, forgetting momentarily that the man couldn't see you. "Yes," you affirmed.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he teased.

"Hmm," You tapped your chin in mock contemplation before answering. "American Psycho."

"Is that the one with Christian Bale?" the man inquired.

"Yeah," You confirmed.

"So, you got a boyfriend?" he continued, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

"No," You huffed, the atmosphere shifting as the questions delved into personal territory.

"And why is that?" the man probed, his tone becoming more unsettling.

"Well, there isn't really anyone out there that has my attention," You replied, fidgeting with a loose thread on your pants.

"Really? Well, that's too bad," the man remarked, the conversation taking on a darker undertone.

"I knooow," You sighed, growing uneasy.

"What's your name?" he pressed further.

"Why do you want to know my name?" You questioned, sensing a growing discomfort in the exchange.

"Because I want to know who I am looking at," he said, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What did you say?" you asked, your voice tense.

"What did I say?" he feigned innocence.

"That's not funny," You replied, suddenly aware of your vulnerability. You began double-checking the security of your home, peeking through blinds and ensuring all doors were locked.

"Was it supposed to be?" he continued, the unsettling tone persisting.

"Well, I'm not laughing," You said, your voice shaky as you moved through the house, checking every nook and cranny.

"I'm not laughing either, princess," he remarked, a term that sent a chill down your spine.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"Well, you never gave me your name," he said, his voice taking on a sinister edge.

Your world seemed to freeze at the ominous tone. "I`m sorry, i have to go" you spat out, surveying your surroundings.

"Wait!" he urgently said.

Ignoring his plea, you hung up before swiftly ascended the stairs, your desire to secure your safety intensifying. You checked each locked door in your path, a heightened sense of urgency guiding your actions. When your phone rang again, you hesitated before answering.

"Hello?" you said, a tinge of anxiety in your voice.

"Why did you hang up? We were having a talk," the same voice echoed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Because the conversation was over on my end," you stated firmly.

"Hmm, harsh," he commented.

"Yeah, sure," you retorted, hanging up without further notice. You continued your security check, ensuring every door was securely locked. The phone continued to ring, but you silenced it, a growing sense of dread settling over you. The inability to block the unknown number only heightened your unease, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you was being watched, the shadows of your home concealing potential threats.

The unsettling tension gripped you as you navigated your home, checking each locked room, and securing your sanctuary against potential threats. The rhythmic ticking of the clock in the hallway mirrored the heavy beats of your anxious heart. You peeked into the bathroom, finding it locked, the silence within unnerving.

Advancing to your mother's bedroom, you discovered it similarly secured. The atmosphere grew thicker with each locked door, and your mind raced as you approached your own bedroom, finding it too impassable. The cold hallway seemed to close in on you, echoing your trepidation.

Your hesitant gaze fell to the phone you clutched in your hand, its screen illuminating with the persistent unknown caller.

At the fifth intrusive call, your patience snapped. Gritting your teeth, you accepted the call with a sharp, "What!?"

The man's threat reverberated through the line, his words laced with malice. "Listen here! If you hang up on me one more time, I will gut you like a fish! You hear me?!" his voice, now a raw growl, threatened violence.

"Oh yeah? Try me!" you retorted defiantly, hanging up once more. Determination flickered in your eyes as you steeled herself for whatever came next.

Just as you disconnected, a sudden, loud noise echoed from your mother's sewing room, freezing you in your tracks. Your phone, now silenced and nestled in your pocket, became an afterthought as your instincts screamed at you to tread carefully.

With deliberate steps, you tiptoed backward, avoiding the sewing room as if it held the secrets of your deepest fears. The muffled sounds behind the door only intensified your unease. You hesitated, your gaze darting around the hallway for any signs of intrusion.

Taking a calculated risk, you silently opened the nearest door, revealing your little brother's room. A wave of relief washed over you, grateful that he was away at a sleepover, shielded from the ominous events unfolding. With measured breaths, you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on a baseball bat tucked in a corner.

Your fingers closed around the familiar grip, and with resolute determination, you climbed into the closet. Leaving the shutters slightly ajar, you positioned yourself with a limited view outside. A hand pressed against your mouth, slowing your breaths as you braced for whatever loomed beyond your shelter.

The shadows played tricks in the dim light, and the palpable silence heightened your senses. Your mind raced with the possibility of an intruder in your home, the unsettling unknown leaving you shrouded in suspense. The baseball bat in your grasp became both a shield and a weapon, as you huddled in the closet, waiting, watching, and wondering about the source of the disturbance in your once-secure sanctuary.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you crouched in the closet, hidden behind boxes. The silence surrounding you was oppressive, punctuated only by the rhythmic cadence of your own heartbeat. The baseball bat felt strangely weightless in your grasp as you stayed huddled, each passing minute amplifying the weight of the unknown.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you noted the multiple missed calls from the mysterious man. The last futile attempt had been minutes ago, marking your solitary confinement within the closet for a staggering 15 minutes. The unnerving quiet had become a torment, a slow and relentless assailant on your sanity.

When the urge to escape finally beckoned, you hesitated. A distinct sound cut through the stillness — the bedroom door opening. Your pulse quickened, and you peeked out from the shutters, your eyes widening at the ominous figure that materialized. Towering, clad in a long black cloak with the hood obscuring any defining features, the intruder's presence exuded menace. Black combat boots and gloves, the latter gripping a gleaming hunting knife, completed the haunting ensemble. A white mask adorned the figure's face, an unsettling visage with a contorted expression that seemed to mock the gravity of the situation.

A cold shiver raced down your spine as the realization hit — this could be the killer responsible for the recent spree of murders. Was he truly after you?

You pressed a hand over your mouth, muffling your breaths, watching the masked assailant enter the room with predatory grace. His calculated steps conveyed a chilling confidence, the aura of a remorseless murderer.

You observed as the figure methodically searched the bedroom, scanning under the bed before approaching the closet. A curse echoed in your mind as the man neared your hiding place. With a mixture of fear and determination, you stood up and swung the baseball bat with all your might. A triumphant smile curled on your lips as the bat connected, eliciting a grunt of pain from the intruder who stumbled and fell to the ground.

Seizing the opportunity, you swiftly darted out of the bedroom and descended the stairs, your footsteps hurried but quiet. As you passed the living room, the horror movie still paused on the screen, another set of footsteps echoed behind you. The chase was on.

You raced around the kitchen island, leaping over the forgotten stool. Glancing back, you saw the masked figure closing the open cupboard door, only to trip over the stool, emitting a yelp and groan. It provided a brief respite for you to grab a knife from the table, your grip tightening around the handle.

The assailant rose, towering over you, his masked face betraying no emotions. Slowly, he circled the kitchen island, and you mirrored his movements, keeping a cautious distance. The gleaming hunting knife in his hand reflected danger, the blade promising pain.

"Stay away! Don't come any closer!" You shouted, but your warning fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, he lunged, grabbing your arm, the force causing you to drop the baseball bat. A sharp pain seared trough your arm as his knife sliced your forearm. A scream tore from your lips, and in desperation, you kicked the guy in the shin, gaining a momentary freedom.

With a quick slash, you retaliated, your knife finding its mark on the guy's arm and chest. A growl escaped the masked assailant as he twirled his knife, retaliating with slashes on your shoulder and arm. The pain intensified, and you cried in agony.

Undeterred, you sprinted into the living room, leaping over the backrest of the couch. Falling between the couch and the glass table, you grabbed a heavy ceramic decoration, regretting the inevitable damage to your mother's prized possession. With a forceful throw, the ornament hurtled towards the killer, shattering into a million pieces as he fell backward by the force of the throw.

"Shit!"  You gasped as the guy uttered his first words. The voice was the same one from the phone, only in a clearer and younger tone now. A realization dawned on you– the killer was someone close to your age, likely another student. The revelation only intensified the horror of the situation as you braced yourself for the dangerous dance that continued to unfold in the dimly lit living room.

The living room became an arena of survival, the air heavy with tension as you and the hooded killer engaged in a deadly dance of cat and mouse. You clutched the kitchen knife tightly in your right hand, the blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. The masked assailant, armed with his hunting knife, circled you with predatory intent, the white mask revealing nothing of his emotions or identity, leaving you to wonder about the identity of the person beneath the facade.

Your eyes remained fixed on your adversary as you edged around the room, your movements cautious yet calculated. Every instinct screamed for you to stay on guard, to be ready for any sudden strike. The sound of your footsteps on the hardwood floor was drowned out by the echo of the silent confrontation.

The tension reached its peak when the hooded killer lunged forward, slashing his knife at you with swift precision. You deftly sidestepped the attack, the blade missing you by inches. Seizing the opportunity, you swung your own knife in a retaliatory strike, aiming for his side. The hooded figure skillfully evaded the blow, showcasing a deadly proficiency in the macabre dance.

You, fueled by a desperate determination to survive, utilized every inch of the living room to your advantage. You maneuvered around furniture, using the space to your benefit, constantly seeking openings to strike.

As the chase raged on, you spotted an opportunity. A discarded stool lay nearby. With a swift kick, you sent the stool sliding toward the hooded killer's feet, hoping to trip him up. The assailant stumbled, momentarily thrown off balance. It was your chance.

Your heart raced as you sprinted down to the basement, seeking refuge in the bunker your father had installed before his departure from the family. The cool metal door creaked open, and you rushed inside, pulling it shut behind your. The air in the bunker felt heavy with tension as you fumbled for your phone, your trembling fingers dialing the emergency number. You explained the chilling situation to the police dispatcher, your voice a mixture of fear and urgency.

As you waited on the line, the minutes stretched into an eternity. The cold silence of the bunker echoed the torment in your mind. Finally, you heard the distant knocking on the bunker door. The voice on the phone instructed you to open up, assuring you that it was a police officer. You cautiously checked the security camera feed on the bunker, confirming the presence of the officer. You ended the call, entered the code, and slowly opened the door.

"Hello, officer," You greeted, your voice strained. The female officer's eyes widened in shock as she took in your disheveled appearance. "Oh, you are in rough shape, young lady," she expressed, offering assistance. Together, you ascended the stairs to a scene of organized chaos – a swarm of police officers meticulously searching every inch of the house.

"He's not here. When we arrived, the house was empty. Looks like he ran when you went in the basement," the officer informed you, providing a small sense of relief. You nodded silently as you exited through the busted open door, a visual testament to the recent struggle of the police. The flashing lights of police cars painted the scene in red and blue hues.

Paramedics approached, tending to your wounds. Your attention, however, remained fixed on the commotion surrounding your home. Your mother's voice reached your ears as she ran towards you, worry etched across her face. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, embracing her daughter and checking you over. Your response was subdued, your thoughts still lingering on the harrowing encounter.

Kyungmin, your younger brother, approached with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, the innocence of his question contrasting sharply with the night's events. You gazed at him, exhausted and in pain as you shook your head. Kyungmin climbed onto the gurney beside you, and you pulled him into the safety of the blanket provided by the paramedics.

A familiar face interrupted the solemn moment – the news reporter from the TV. Microphone in hand, she approached, seeking an interview. Kyungmin, ever protective, spoke up on your behalf, sternly refusing the intrusion. A police officer intervened, guiding the persistent reporter away, sparing you from further distress.

As the news crew retreated, you closed your eyes, attempting to shut out the chaos around you. However, the haunting image of the hooded killer's mask flashed in your mind, a reminder that the scars of this night would linger in your nightmares. The weight of the encounter settled on your shoulders, leaving you to grapple with the trauma that now defined your reality.

The next morning, you awoke to the persistent beeping of the alarm clock, signaling the start of a day that you wished you could forget. As you sat up in the unfamiliar guest room at Yeji's house, you took a moment to absorb your surroundings. The room, while neatly arranged, felt foreign, lacking the familiarity of your own space.

Yeji and her family had generously offered shelter to you and your family after the horrifying visit from the hooded killer. The police had taken over your home for investigation, fearing the possibility of the assailant returning. You, plagued by nightmares, had spent a sleepless night, haunted by the haunting image of the white mask and the towering figure.

Rolling out of bed, you made a feeble attempt to make it, your mind still clouded with the remnants of your unsettling dreams. You changed into a simple white blouse, ripped jeans, and sneakers, the routine serving as a small distraction from the lingering fear. Descending the stairs, you found Yeji in the kitchen, flipping pancakes.

"Good morning, Y/n! How did you sleep?" Yeji greeted, her smile an attempt to bring warmth to the gloomy atmosphere.

"Terrible," you replied bluntly, your appetite diminished. You mechanically grabbed a pancake from the plate and nibbled on it, more out of habit than hunger.

Yeji, ever considerate, suggested, "You can try to sleep during lunch. I'll cover for you."

You shrugged in response. "Are we the only ones here?" you asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

"Uh-huh! My parents and your mother left for work, and your brother also left for school. So, we should head to school as well," Yeji explained, turning off the oven and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You wrapped the remaining pancakes in a foil wrapper, slinging your own bag over your shoulder as you made your way out to Yeji's car. The warm sunlight kissed your skin as they parked at school. However, your day took an unexpected turn as you approached the entrance and found a throng of newscasters eagerly waiting.

You and Yeji exchanged a worried look before approaching the spectacle. One of the popular girls, pointing towards you, caught the attention of the reporters. Cameras surged towards you, creating a chaotic scene that overwhelmed you. Yeji quickly pulled you away from the crowd, guiding you inside the school where the cool breeze of the air conditioning offered some relief.

"Thank you, Yeji," You muttered, still trying to steady your racing heart.

"You're welcome," Yeji replied, and the two of you walked to your lockers, ignoring the stares from other students, their whispers echoing in the hallway. The day had just begun, and you knew you would need to navigate the challenges that lay ahead, both inside the school and within yourself.

You and Yeji stood by the lockers, engrossed in a conversation when you felt an odd sensation, as if someone's eyes were burning into the back of your head. Turning slightly, you noticed Lee Heeseung, a fellow student from your biology class, standing against the lockers on the opposite side of the hallway.

Heeseung was dressed entirely in black, a black mask covering most of his face, leaving only his enigmatic eyes visible. His dark hair added an extra layer of mystery to his already imposing presence. Despite sharing the same class for two years, you and Heeseung had never exchanged a single word. His lack of communication with anyone outside his circle of friends made him an enigma. You had observed him talking only with his buddies, never participating in class discussions, and always presenting alone to the teacher`s during evaluations. It wasn't that he was mute; he simply chose not to talk.

Intrigued by this peculiar behavior, you couldn't help but find him captivating. You had noticed his striking features and the air of menace that surrounded him. Yet, no one dared to pick on him, possibly due to his good looks and the intimidating aura he exuded. A crush had developed, but you kept it to yourself, fearing rejection.

As you met Heeseung's penetrating gaze, you found yourself unable to look away. It was as if he could see through you, and you couldn't break free until Yeji's intervention snapped you back to reality.

"Y/n? You okay?" Yeji's concerned voice reached your ears.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just a little tired, that's all," You replied, closing your locker. You walked with Yeji to the next class, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Heeseung's continued stare, unyielding even when his friend, Jake, tried to engage him in conversation.

The day passed swiftly until lunchtime, where you and Yeji found solace on a secluded bench at the end of a quiet hallway. You rested your head on Yeji's lap while attempting to catch up on much-needed sleep. Thirty minutes later, you headed to the last class of the day – biology.

Taking your usual seats by the window, Yeji braided your hair while you absentmindedly doodled on your worksheet. The teacher droned on about anatomy and nerves, but most students were more interested in their own activities. Heeseung, occupied himself with a game on his computer, occasionally glancing at the teacher.

You, also slightly distracted, glanced at Heeseung through your computer screen. You snapped out of your daze when Yeji tugged on your braid a little too hard.

"Oops, sorry," Yeji whispered as she finished the braid.

You subconsciously touched the braid and looked down at your worksheet. Glancing at Heeseung, you noticed he was focused on his computer. The rest of the class passed without further incident, leaving you with a strange mix of curiosity and unease regarding Heeseung's enigmatic gaze.

You and Yeji parted ways at the school gate, each going in your own respective directions. "I'll see you home tonight, alright?" Yeji said, giving you a warm hug. "Yes, see ya," you replied, waving as Yeji disappeared into the crowd of students leaving the school grounds.

As you headed to your after-school activities, the day unfolded with the passage of time. When the clock struck 5 PM, you found yourself finishing up, the last to leave the building. The once bustling halls were now eerily empty as you made your way to the bathroom.

In the solitude of the restroom, you decided to freshen up. You unzipped your bag and applied some lip balm, preparing to accessorize with your favorite scarf. The black and white pattern of the scarf exuded a chic and classic vibe, and as you were about to tie it, a toilet flushed behind you. Your attention shifted to the stall, and a chill ran down your spine when you saw black combat boots beneath the door.

You stiffened, a sense of dread settling in as the stall door swung open. The haunting figure from your nightmares, the same one who had attacked you the day before, emerged. The hunting knife, now clean of your blood, gleamed ominously in his hand.

"You..." you began, but your words morphed into a scream as he lunged at you, pressing you against the cold restroom wall. The impact sent a jolt of pain through your head, but the real terror came when the knife approached your throat. Bracing for the impending pain, you closed your eyes, only to find yourself still intact.

"Open your eyes," the melodic yet sinister voice from the day before demanded. Slowly, you obeyed, meeting the menacing gaze of the white-faced mask. "It's you... you are the hooded killer," you stammered out, surprisingly steady despite the fear coursing through your veins.

"I prefer the name Ghostface, but yes. That's me," he replied coolly. The knife withdrew from your throat, replaced by his hand, the blade pointed dangerously close to your face as he gripped your chin. His hollowed eyes scrutinized you, and he hummed as if evaluating your uniqueness.

"You are different than the others," he muttered cryptically. Confused and afraid, you found yourself pulled closer to him. The proximity was overwhelming, his towering figure covering you completely. Just as the situation took a more threatening turn, you seized the opportunity to elbow him in the same spot you remembered from the previous night's struggle. The move worked, and he groaned, giving you a chance to escape.

Bolting out of the bathroom, you ran out of the school, fueled by adrenaline. Your legs carried you all the way to Yeji's house. Once inside the guestroom, you hid under the safety of the bedsheets, tears streaming down your face. The questions echoed in your mind – who was this Ghostface, and why had he come for you? Only later did you realize that your black and white scarf was missing, a tangible reminder of the encounter.

Ghostface`s POV:

Ghostface observed your movements from the shadows of the bathroom, hidden behind the stall door. He had anticipated your arrival, a sense of obsession driving him to seek you out once more. The thrill of the chase, the anticipation of seeing your face when the mask was revealed – it fueled his every move.

As you entered and began to freshen up, Ghostface couldn't help but revel in the proximity. The rhythmic pulse of his own excitement resonated beneath the pale mask. The mask, a mere facade that concealed the unsettling grin he felt beneath.

The black and white scarf caught his attention – an accessory he associated with you. The pattern, a visual echo of his fixation. A piece of you, he thought. In that moment, he felt a compulsion to possess it, to keep it close as a memento of this encounter.

When you realized his presence and screamed, Ghostface reveled in the fear he induced. The exhilaration surged as he pressed you against the cold wall, the metallic glint of the hunting knife dancing dangerously close to your throat. He watched you close your eyes, surrendering to the terror he wrought.

"Open your eyes," he commanded, wanting to savor the fear reflected in your gaze. The hollow sockets of the mask mirrored his emotions – a twisted dance between malevolence and obsession. He examined you closely, drawn to the nuances of your reaction.

You, surprisingly resilient, managed to escape his grip, Ghostface grunted in pain. The elbow strike had found its mark, the wound from the previous encounter throbbing beneath the black fabric of his costume. Yet, the pain was inconsequential compared to the thrill of the chase.

Impressed by your cunning, Ghostface couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. You had remembered the weakness he exposed the night before. He allowed himself a cold grin beneath the mask, admiring your resilience.

As you fled the scene, Ghostface reached for the scarf you had left behind. It lay on the ground, a symbol of your vulnerability. He picked it up, feeling the soft fabric in his gloved hands. A dark satisfaction enveloped him as he tucked it into his sleeve, a macabre trophy of his obsession with you. Later, as he changed out of the costume, he felt the wound reopen, the blood under the bandage a reminder of the dance between predator and prey. Yet, nothing could overshadow the twisted pleasure he derived from the encounter.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

The dinner table was a silent gathering, each scrape of utensils against plates echoing through the room. You sat with your family and Yeji's, your appetite lost in the weight of recent events. Pushing your food back and forth, you barely registered the mundane sounds of family dinner.

The doorbell interrupted the uneasy quiet, prompting Yeji's father to rise and welcome two unexpected guests. Police officers, their presence cast a somber mood over the room. "Hello, come in," Yeji's father invited. The officers' gaze turned to you, and with a curt nod from one of them, they addressed you. "Ready to go, Mrs. y/l/n?" You simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment, and followed the officers to their car, waving goodbye to your brother Kyungmin.

Seated in the back of the police car, you stared out of the window, watching the night pass by in a blur. The quiet journey took you to the police station, where the cold, sterile atmosphere greeted you. Zipping up your hoodie for warmth, you sat alone in a stark room, the minutes stretching into an eternity.

The interview was a chilling recount of the horrors you had faced. Finally, the clock on the wall revealed the lateness of the hour, nearing 1 AM. The same police officer who brought you in now drove you back, his partner strangely absent. Suddenly, a jolt rocked the car, prompting the officer to stop. "What was that?" You asked, concern in your voice. "I don't know, stay here," the officer commanded as he exited the vehicle, leaving you locked inside.

Unbeknownst to you, the officer had driven over a gruesome scene—a lifeless, bloodied body. As he knelt down to investigate, a swift strike ended his life. Ghostface emerged from the shadows, the thrill of the kill evident behind his mask. His eyes gleamed with a sinister delight as he looked at the two corpses.

You, oblivious to the horror unfolding outside, remained locked in the car, scrolling on your phone. But when you looked up the sudden appearance of Ghostface in the rearview mirror sent shivers down your spine. Frantically attempting to escape, you found yourself trapped as Ghostface circled the car, his gloved hand pressing the car keys.

With an aggressive pull, the door swung open, and you attempted to flee. Ghostface, however, was faster. He seized your ankle, and the glint of his knife traced a painful path down your calf. Your scream echoed in the night as you kicked free, running into the cold darkness. Ghostface, fueled by sadistic pleasure, pursued you, the chilling words hanging in the air, "Go ahead and run, princess.... It only makes it more fun for me."

You cursed under your breath as you realized the police car had stopped in the midst of a dense forest. Shadows loomed ominously, and the flickering moonlight cast an eerie glow through the twisted branches. The forest, a labyrinth of darkness, was the worst place to be pursued by a relentless killer. You ran past trees, stumbling over uneven ground, twigs slapping against your face as if nature itself conspired to impede your escape. Yet, you pressed on, ignoring the obstacles that sought to detain you, focusing solely on surviving the chilling pursuit.

In your frantic flight, you tripped over something soft, and you grunted as your palms scraped against the unforgiving ground. Turning around, you let out a horrified scream— you had stumbled upon a lifeless body. Ghostface emerged from the shadows, his ominous figure contrasting with the darkness of the forest. "Don't feel bad," he taunted. You snapped your gaze up at him, the fear in your eyes palpable. "Did..you kill them?" you stammered.

"Who else would?" Ghostface retorted with a chilling sarcasm that sent shivers down your spine. "But why?" You questioned, desperation etched in your voice. Ghostface, advancing closer, seemed almost amused. "Oh! You want to know my motive?" he mocked. "You know, I really don't know. Call it impulsivity, call it incidental. But for me?" He waved his knife theatrically. "It's just for fun." His voice dripped with a sinister tone that echoed through the dark expanse.

"You are crazy!" You exclaimed, your defiance cutting through the tension. Ghostface feigned hurt, responding, "Oh, now that's just hurtful, princess." You, angered by the name, insisted, "I said not to call me that!" Ghostface, undeterred, continued his twisted rambling, offering alternatives like "sweetheart," "baby," "sunshine," and "honey." You rejected each one with growing frustration.

"But that's no fun... Y/n," Ghostface announced, relishing the way your name rolled off his tongue. Clenching your fists, you felt vulnerable and exposed, alone in the heart of the foreboding forest. "This isn't supposed to be fun!" you shouted. Ghostface merely chuckled, declaring, "Well, it's fun for me."

As he lunged to attack, you instinctively ducked and darted past him, tears streaming down your face. His sinister voice echoed in your ears, "Run, run! I will always be right behind you!" Everywhere you looked, you saw him, a phantom in the shadows—behind a tree, perched on a rock. Your mind played tricks on you, every shadow morphing into a potential threat.

Gasping for breath, you collapsed on the asphalt of the road, tears blurring your vision. Gripping your chest, you felt a crushing weight. Your throat tightened, breaths came in ragged gasps, and your old wounds reopened, mingling with the fresh gash on your leg. Overwhelmed, you succumbed to a panic attack. The only illumination came from the vacant police car, casting an isolated glow on you amidst the darkness.

Voices and another set of headlights pierced through the night as another car approached. As the darkness claimed your consciousness, exhaustion took over, and the traumatic ordeal drew to a temporary close.

Heeseung`s POV

Heeseung entered his house, greeted by the sight of his father slouched in the armchair, oblivious to the world, drowned in the stupor of alcohol. The flickering TV cast a pale glow on the worn-out carpet, showcasing some mindless commercial. Heeseung felt a twinge of resentment towards his father, a lingering disdain for the man who had remained after his mother's departure. Yet, beneath the layers of frustration, there lingered a reluctant sense of caring, however faint.

Tired of the oppressive atmosphere, Heeseung ascended the stairs, seeking refuge in the solace of his bedroom. The click of the lock echoed in the silence, shutting out the world beyond. Slinging his bag onto the bed, he removed his hoodie, letting it join the discarded laundry. The red-stained bandages peeked through as he peeled off his t-shirt, revealing evidence of wounds that had reopened that day.

A determined resolve etched on his face, Heeseung stood before the mirror. The vivid red of his bandages against the pale of his skin hinted at the violence he had unleashed. Swift and skilled, he rewrapped the bandages with practiced efficiency, ensuring the wounds were concealed once more. Fresh clothes replaced the discarded ones, and with a meticulous routine, he zipped open his bag.

The ghostface costume emerged, stained with the evidence of his actions. Heeseung soaked it, allowing the water to wash away the blood and sweat, leaving no trace of his grim deeds. The hunting knife, an extension of his malevolence, was cleansed under a resolution that eradicated any lingering residue under the unforgiving UV rays.

Then, he delicately pulled out the scarf, a token of his encounter with you. The soft material caressed by his fingertips, a reminder of a night that had sparked something unfamiliar within him. Collapsing onto his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, the walls adorned with posters from games and horror movies. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing thoughts of you to fill his mind.

As slumber claimed him, a subtle smile lingered on his face, an unsettling contrast to the darkness that surrounded him.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Your eyes fluttered open, and the harsh hospital lights made you wince. Panic seized you as the memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Before the fear could fully consume you, a calming hand and a familiar voice reached out to you.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Yeji's voice reassured you, and you turned your head to see your friend by your side.

"Yeji? Where am I? What happened?" Your voice was shaky, the events of the night still lingering in your consciousness.

"You're in the hospital. We found you on the ground... was it him again?" Yeji's concern was evident in her eyes as you slowly settled back onto the bed. The sterile scent and the hum of medical equipment around you became more apparent.

"Yeah... it was," you admitted, your gaze falling to the IV in your arm. Vivid images of the killer and the police officer's death replayed in your mind.

"We know, we know. The cops have taken care of everything," Yeji explained, attempting to offer some comfort.

"Yeji... why is he doing this... to me?" your plea held a mix of confusion and desperation as you sought answers from your friend.

"I don't—" Yeji began, but her words were interrupted by another voice entering the room.

"It's because you're a badass!" Kyungmin, your younger brother, announced as he bounded into the room. He climbed onto the chair beside your bed, his eyes filled with admiration.

"What?" you looked at him in surprise.

"Think about it! In every scenario, the victims die, but you have survived every single encounter! You're the final girl, sis! You'll kill him and live on to tell the tale!" Kyungmin explained with unbridled excitement.

"Kyungmin... how do you know so much about horror movies?" Yeji asked, attempting to redirect the conversation.

"Oh... well... we have them, and..." Kyungmin began, but you tuned out their conversation. Your mind was focused on the realization your brother had presented.

When Ghostface had first come after you, he wasn't prepared for your resourcefulness and determination to fight back. Despite multiple encounters, he hadn't succeeded in taking your life. He toyed with you, savoring the chase. You took a deep breath, absorbing the truth. You was the final girl. A surge of determination welled within you, replacing the fear with a fierce resolve to confront the hooded killer once and for all.

Days blurred together for you as you layed in the hospital bed, recovering from the harrowing events that unfolded. Yeji, being the devoted friend she was, visited daily, bringing both updates on school life and a mountain of homework. The constant drone of the television in the corner of the room kept the atmosphere heavy, each news report recounting the horrifying murders that had taken place.

You winced every time the name "Ghostface" echoed through the speakers. The news anchors dramatized your survival story, casting you as a resilient heroine in the face of unspeakable horror. The relentless coverage gnawed at your nerves, replaying the trauma with every broadcast.

One afternoon, as the news segment started, Yeji seized the opportunity to bring some normalcy to the room. With a swift movement, she turned off the TV and turned towards you.

"No TV now, we have a test to study for, and you need to know this when you get released from here," Yeji declared, holding a biology textbook in her hands. "Now eat your pudding while I read chapter 13 to you."

You grumbled, your mood not the brightest, but you obediently took a spoonful of the pudding the nurse had brought in. Yeji, undeterred, began firing questions from the textbook, ensuring you kept up with the coursework despite the challenging circumstances.

As Yeji read, the words of biology mingled with the beeping of machines and the occasional murmur from other patients. The room transformed into a makeshift classroom, a haven from the chaos outside its walls. 

Heeseung/Ghostface`s POV:

Heeseung slumped in his biology class, your empty seat serving as a constant reminder of your absence. The room felt colder, the air heavier, and his restlessness intensified with every passing minute. The usual banter and whispers of the students around him seemed distant, drowned out by the void left in your wake.

His internal conflict manifested in a sharp edge to his demeanor. When a girl approached him, attempting to initiate a conversation, he reacted with an uncharacteristic harshness, pushing her away without a second thought. He needed to be alone, away from the prying eyes and casual interactions that only accentuated his yearning for your presence.

Heeseung abruptly left the classroom, making his way to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he flung his bag on the cold, tiled floor, the clatter echoing in the small space. With an impatient pull, he yanked off his mask, revealing a face twisted with frustration as he glared at his own reflection in the grimy mirror.

The internal turmoil was eating at him. He missed you more than he had anticipated, and it bothered him on a visceral level. The need to see you, to hear you, to be close to you, clawed at his chest like a relentless beast. It was a sensation he couldn't easily dismiss, a yearning that fueled his restlessness.

With a frustrated groan, Heeseung unleashed his anger on the bathroom stall. A violent kick sent the door crashing into the wall, leaving an unmistakable dent. For a moment, the physical release offered a semblance of satisfaction, but the ache persisted.

Regaining composure, Heeseung gathered his belongings, pulling the mask back into place. He left the bathroom, his tardiness to class a consequence he was willing to accept in exchange for the futile attempt to quell the storm of emotions within him. The hospital, where you resided, loomed in his thoughts like a magnetic force, drawing him closer with each passing second. 

Ghostface lingered outside the hospital in the cool night, shadows cloaking his figure as he observed the changing of the nurses. With calculated precision, he navigated the terrain, making his way toward the entrance. A gentle nudge opened the glass door, and he slipped in, avoiding detection as he roamed through the silent hallways.

Peeking through a hand mirror, he strategically eliminated the nurses, each swift kill leaving a trail of lifeless bodies in his wake. The hospital became a dark canvas painted with the aftermath of his murderous spree. A sinister whistle beckoned a lone nurse towards him, her fate sealed with a quick, silent demise.

Ghostface moved with chilling efficiency, silencing doctors and nurses alike, his path leading him to the second floor. In the dimly lit hallway, he encountered a lone doctor, oblivious to the danger closing in. The knife struck, ending the doctor's life, adding one more casualty to the night's symphony of death.

Room 104, the destination imprinted on Ghostface's mind. With stealth and malevolence, he approached the door, a predator seeking its prey. Slowly creaking it open, he peered inside, revealing you asleep on the bed, Yeji on a chair beside you. Ghostface hesitated, his knife poised for the strike, but something in your peaceful slumber gave him pause.

A twisted fascination held Ghostface captive as he studied your sleeping face. Unbeknownst to him, Yeji stirred and gasped, her eyes widening with terror. Swiftly, Ghostface redirected his attention, raising his knife. A sudden movement caught his peripheral vision, and he turned to see you waking up.

"No... please," You whispered, your voice a plea in the night. Ghostface lowered his weapon, momentarily captivated by the desperation in your eyes. It was a fleeting moment before he turned and, with a brutal efficiency, stabbed Yeji, silencing her pleas. The room became a stage for a cruel dance of violence.

As Ghostface tossed Yeji aside, he realized you had vanished from the bed. A thrill coursed through him, and he pursued you down the dimly lit hallway. Your panicked breaths echoed, the chase heightening the tension. You darted into a room, and Ghostface followed.

Closing and locking the door behind him, he taunted, "Come out, come out, wherever you are, princess. I know you are here." You, hidden behind boxes, held your breath, fear etched across your face. Ghostface continued his macabre game, attempting to coax you out with promises of conversation.

When you remained silent, he sighed, "Come on, princess. Come out, and we can talk like adults." As he approached, you lunged, wrapping yourself around his back. A violent struggle ensued, you desperately fighting for your life. Ghostface slammed you against the wall, causing you to release your grip.

Turning to face you, he seized your wrists, pinning them above your head. In the dimly lit supply closet, Ghostface loomed over you, relishing the terror in your eyes. "There you are," he whispered, a sinister grin beneath the mask. You whimpered as he silenced you with a hand over your mouth. "Shhh. We can't have anyone waking up and disturbing our sweet time together now, can we?" he mused, his voice dripping with malevolence. "I just had to see you, princess," he added, a cruel fascination gleaming in his eyes.

Ghostface had been studying you, relishing in the desperation that flickered in your eyes after days of separation. The ache of missing you had grown unbearable. So caught up in his twisted fascination, he didn't notice when you unleashed a swift knee to his groin. The pain jolted through him, and he staggered back, momentarily incapacitated.

Seizing the opportunity, you fled, unlocking the door and making your way down the stairs and out of the hospital. Outside, you paused to catch your breath, relief washing over you. However, your momentary respite was shattered when you looked up and gasped. Ghostface loomed in your hospital room, holding Yeji with a knife to her throat.

Fear gripped you, and you cried out, rushing back inside, disregarding the lifeless bodies scattered around. As you reached your hospital room, you opened the door cautiously. The only sight that greeted you was Yeji on the ground, unconscious but seemingly unharmed. However, your moment of relief was short-lived.

A knife pressed against your back, and an arm coiled around your chest. Ghostface's voice, a sinister whisper, cut through the air. "I knew you'd be back when you saw your precious friend helpless."

Frustration welled within you. "What do you want with me? If you wanted to kill me, you would have done so!"

No answer came from Ghostface, and you strained to catch a glimpse of him through the corner of your eye. The mask revealed nothing, only his steady breaths. A chilling silence lingered before he spoke again, his voice devoid of emotion. "I just wanted to see you."

With an abrupt release, Ghostface pushed you away. You scrambled to the side, your eyes wide as you realized he had disappeared. The unnerving encounter left you perplexed, but your concern shifted back to Yeji. Clambering over, you checked Yeji's pulse and breathed a sigh of relief at the reassuring signs of life. The inexplicable motive of Ghostface remained a haunting mystery.

A full week had passed since Yeji and you were discharged from the hospital, which had been grappling with a significant loss of staff. Unbeknownst to you, surviving encounters with Ghostface had turned the two of you into unwilling celebrities, your stories circulating through hushed whispers and frightened glances.

You, especially, wanted no part of this unwanted popularity. After finishing your school day, you walked to your car and drove to the mall, seeking solace in the mundane routine of shopping. You wandered through the mall, your hood pulled over your head, two shopping bags in hand. Amid the hustle and bustle, a notification chimed on your phone, drawing your attention. Unaware of your surroundings, you collided with someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" you exclaimed, stepping back. When you looked up, you realized you had crashed into Heeseung. He stood there, clad in jeans and a black hoodie, his own hood covering most of his face except for his piercing eyes. A black medical mask concealed the lower half of his face.

"No worries!" Jake, who stood beside Heeseung, chimed in. "Hey, you're Y/n!" he added.

"Yeah, that's me," You replied, a hint of confusion in your voice. Heeseung remained silent, his eyes fixed on you. The air thickened with an unspoken tension, leaving you to wonder about the thoughts hidden behind Heeseung's enigmatic gaze.

Jake leaned down with a friendly smile, resembling a puppy eager for attention. "Hey, it's totally cool if you don't wanna, but there's a small party tonight at my house. If it sparks some interest, just hit me up, and I'll text you the address," he said.

You hummed, looking at him. "Eh, sure... I'll think about it. Thanks," you replied.

"Oh, is that Candyman!?" Jake added, peeking into your shopping bag and spotting the horror movie disc. "You like horror movies?" he asked.

You glanced down at your shopping bag and then back up at Jake, nodding. "Have you seen it?" you inquired.

"Sure, I have! The killer and victim falling in love with each other? That's a new one in horror, if you ask me. It was refreshing!" Jake said.

"Sure," You replied. However, your attention shifted when you noticed Heeseung extending his hand, his fingers curled into a fist. Perplexed, you looked at him with confusion. Heeseung then opened his palm, revealing a heart-shaped chocolate, and nudged it toward you.

"That means it's for you," Jake explained.

"Oh, thank you," You said, blushing lightly as you took the chocolate from Heeseung. Your fingers brushed, and you couldn't help but notice the warmth of Heeseung's skin. The size difference between the chocolate in his hand and yours intrigued you. Before you could say more, Jake ushered Heeseung away.

"Well, you think about the party today! It was nice meeting you," Jake called back as he guided Heeseung toward the gaming store.

"Yeah, you too," you muttered to yourself. You looked down at the chocolate, opened the wrapper, and popped it into your mouth, savoring the unexpectedly delicious taste of caramel. With a shrug, you tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash can and continued with your shopping, thoughts of the party lingering in your mind.

Heeseung`s POV:

Heeseung stood near the entrance of the mall, his attention lost in his thoughts as the world passed by. A sudden impact jolted him, and he instinctively prepared to glare at the perpetrator. However, when his eyes met yours all traces of irritation dissipated, replaced by a sense of fascination.

You mumbled an apology, your voice weaving a sense of normalcy into his troubled world. As you engaged in conversation with Jake, Heeseung found himself feeling strangely giddy, observing you act so effortlessly regular. Little did you know that he was the unseen cause of the disturbance in her life, a hidden figure orchestrating chaos from the shadows.

His focus shifted to the interaction between you and Jake, and a subtle warmth filled his chest. He watched as you accepted the heart-shaped chocolate from him, your fingers briefly brushing in the exchange. The touch sent a pleasant tingle down his spine, leaving him with a subtle, lingering joy.

Jake pulled him away toward the gaming store, and Heeseung went willingly, turning his gaze back for a moment to observe you. From afar, he witnessed you unwrap the chocolate and take a bite, his heart lifting with happiness. A smile, hidden beneath the mask, crept onto his face. The only indication of his joy was the gentle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a silent expression of contentment as he continued to watch from the shadows.

The room Heeseung was in was dimly lit, the atmosphere carrying an air of calculated calmness. He opened the closet, concealing the bag with the Ghostface costume and the hunting knife with meticulous care. As the door closed, the concealed items seemed to vanish into the shadows. Heeseung's focus shifted to the clothes he had recently purchased, the jeans hugging his legs, a black t-shirt embracing his frame, and a leather jacket adding a touch of mystery. A quick slick of his hair back completed the transformation.

He walked out of the room, leaving behind the ghost of his darker intentions. The party preparations were already underway, and Heeseung joined Jake, Jay, Niki, Jungwon, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and their other friends. Working together, they transformed the space into a lively venue, laughter and music echoing through the walls.

Heeseung chose not to return home; there was nothing for him there. His father, a haunting figure from his past, rested in the depths of a secluded forest, far removed from prying eyes. Today marked the culmination of his plans, and your presence at the party was an unexpected yet welcomed development.

As the festivities commenced, people streamed in, each face a blur of insignificance to Heeseung. He maintained his aloof demeanor, detached from the jovial conversations around him. In the midst of the crowd, he waited patiently, his attention fixed on the entrance, anticipating the arrival of the one person who truly mattered to him.

Your POV:

You and Yeji moved with a silent synchronicity, your stealthy escape from the house guided by the allure of the unknown night. Dressed in contrasting styles, Yeji embraced chic elegance, while you opted for black jeans paired with a red off-shoulder top. The two of you ventured into the world outside, leaving behind the constraints of parental knowledge.

The party pulsated with life as you arrived, the atmosphere thick with the scent of alcohol, drugs, and the perspiration of dancing bodies. The booming music enveloped you as you navigated through the crowd. Yeji found her boyfriend, disappearing into the sea of people, leaving you to explore the chaotic beauty of the gathering on your own.

With a drink in hand, you claimed a vacant spot on a couch. It was an unconventional choice, sharing the space with a couple too engrossed in each other to notice your presence. As you sipped your drink, you observed the rhythmic movements on the dance floor, losing yourself in the pulsating beats.

Your gaze wandered, and unexpectedly, it met Heeseung's. For the first time, the black mask was absent, revealing the entirety of his face. You found yourself captivated by his handsome features, his sharp lines softened by the absence of the usual disguise. You chewed on your bottom lip, unknowingly drawn into an observation that felt both intrusive and intimate.

Heeseung, engaged in conversation with Sunghoon, eventually turned his head. As his eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze was palpable. You, caught off guard, quickly averted your eyes, the unexpected connection leaving you both intrigued and uneasy. 

Heeseung`s POV:

Heeseung's attention wavered as he conversed with Sunghoon, a subtle force pulling at him, urging him to look elsewhere. And when he did, his eyes found you in the crowd. The chaotic surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only you in his field of vision.

A strange sensation bloomed in Heeseung's chest, an unfamiliar warmth that spread through him. The sight of you stirred something within him, a desire to sweep you away from the prying eyes of the party and offer you everything he had, the entirety of his world.

A smirk played on Heeseung's lips as he locked eyes with you. He raised his drink to his lips, savoring the liquid as he continued to gaze at you, a silent promise lingering in the air.

Heeseung confidently placed his finished drink on the table and strolled past the dancing floor, heading straight toward you. The glances from his friends, filled with confusion, didn't deter him. A quick glance at his wristwatch made him grin. He had time.

Stopping in front of you, he extended his hand and gestured towards the dancing floor. At your initial hesitation, he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning. You, after putting down your own drink, took his hand. He licked his lips before gently pulling you towards the dancing floor.

As you danced, Heeseung encouraged you with smiles, and to his surprise, you started to move with more confidence. He grinned and, seizing the opportunity, placed his hands on your waist. The synchronization between you two was so natural that you didn't notice a growing circle of people around you, cheering and hyping you up.

The dance reached its climax when Heeseung gripped you, spinning you around before ending with a dramatic pose – him holding you in a dip. The applause and cheers from the crowd engulfed you, but in that moment, Heeseung and you seemed to exist in your own world, your eyes locked, both of you catching your breaths.

Heeseung lifted you up again with a playful grin before backing away. The music abruptly stopped, and everyone turned their attention to Jay, who held the microphone.

"I just got news that the principal is stuck up by the flagpole at school!" Jay announced, and the crowd erupted in excitement, rushing out of the house to witness the unexpected spectacle.

Your POV:

Your surprise flickered across your face when you noticed someone standing in front of you. However, as Heeseung came into view, that initial surprise morphed into a different kind of astonishment. When he extended his hand, asking you to dance, you hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the lively atmosphere. The music pulsed through the air, beckoning you to join in the fun.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you accepted Heeseung's hand and joined him on the dance floor. As the rhythm took over, you grinned, noticing the surprise in Heeseung's expression. The music became a bridge, connecting you in a dance that felt surprisingly natural. You felt good dancing with Heeseung, the movements easy and fluid.

The dance reached its peak, and you ended with a pose that left you mesmerized, locking eyes with Heeseung. It was a moment suspended in time until Jay's announcement shattered the spell. The shocking news about the principal by the flagpole sent a wave of confusion through the crowd, and the house emptied with lightning speed.

You stood there, shocked, watching the sudden exodus. The party had dissipated in an instant, leaving you alone in the now-quiet room. Your gaze searched for Heeseung, only to find that he, too, had vanished along with the rest of the revelers.

The flickering light of the TV cast a surreal glow over the room as the stragglers from the party settled in to watch Train to Busan. You, initially indifferent, sat beside Yeji, who had pleaded with you to stay. The remaining company included Yeji's boyfriend Jiyoo, Doyun, Beomseok, and Byeol—classmates whom you recognized but didn't particularly engage with.

As the movie unfolded on the screen, Beomseok began a vociferous rant, berating the film's intelligence and boastfully claiming he'd easily survive a horror movie. Doyun, unnoticed by the others, vanished in pursuit of a beer, only to meet his demise at Ghostface's hands in the kitchen.

Byeol, prompted by a call from his concerned mother, left the gathering, unknowingly walking towards his fatal encounter with Ghostface, his life brutally ended in his own car.

Feeling the need to escape the awkwardness of the situation, you excused yourself, heading upstairs in search of the bathroom. Locking yourself in, you remained oblivious to the unfolding bloodshed until a piercing scream echoed through the house. Startled, you rushed downstairs, only to be met with a nightmarish scene.

Jiyoo lay lifeless on the floor, Yeji wailing in grief, and Beomseok standing beside her, bloodied and wounded, wielding a pan in defense. Beomseok, acknowledging your presence, blamed you for the chaos, proclaiming that your mere presence had attracted the crazed Ghostface. However, the sudden sound of a gunshot silenced him as he fell backward, shot by an unseen assailant.

Turning towards the kitchen, your eyes widened at the sight of Ghostface—his mask smeared with blood, holding a knife and a gun. The gun was now pointed at you, and you instinctively raised your hands in surrender.

"Please..." Yeji pleaded, fear evident in her tear-filled eyes.

Ghostface disregarded Yeji and turned his masked visage toward you, his eyes hidden behind the haunting expression. "You really are a gem, do you know that, sweetheart?" he remarked, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. "You know, when I first broke into your house, I wanted to end you," he continued, the weight of his words settling like a suffocating blanket, "but afterwards? I came to the realization that I don't want to kill you."

A mixture of confusion and terror clouded your expression as you ventured, "Then... what do you want to do?"

An airy laugh escaped Ghostface's concealed mouth, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to be mine forever," he declared, the words hanging in the air like a sinister melody.

"What...?" You uttered, unable to conceal the fear in your voice.

Ghostface chuckled, "So let me make you a deal. If you come with me right now, I will leave your friend alive. Your choice."

The gravity of the decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your gaze flickered between Yeji, still engulfed in sorrow, and the masked figure before you. The room seemed to close in, the silence punctuated only by the muffled sobs of Yeji. In that harrowing moment, you grappled with an impossible choice, the consequences echoing through the chilling laughter of the masked assailant.

Before you could comprehend the gravity of his words, a shot rang out, and Ghostface vanished into hiding. A police officer, responding to a noise complaint, entered the scene, providing momentary relief. Another officer appeared in the doorway, and you felt a surge of gratitude.

However, the relief was short-lived. The first officer, in a moment of panic at seeing Ghostface peek out behind the wall, began firing indiscriminately. The room descended into chaos, and your, eyes wide with horror, witnessed the accidental demise of your friend. Yeji's lifeless body lay on the ground, a casualty of the very protectors who were supposed to ensure safety.

In shock, you stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. The cop who inadvertently caused the tragedy looked on in horror, realizing the magnitude of the mistake. 

The air crackled with tension, and the scent of blood lingered like an ominous premonition. Your tear-filled eyes remained fixed on Yeji's lifeless form, an overwhelming grief tightening your chest.

In the midst of the disarray, two sudden, deafening gunshots pierced the air. The cops, caught off guard, crumpled to the floor- dead. The room fell into shocked silence, broken only by Ghostface's eerie chuckle. Emerging from the shadows, he stepped over the fallen officers, his dark cloak billowing like a phantom in the night.

Ghostface's masked gaze shifted from the lifeless bodies to you. He shook his head in a feigned disappointment. "See what happens when you don't trust me, princess? Now your friend is dead." The callous words cut through the air, leaving you speechless as fresh tears streamed down your face.

Crouching down beside you, Ghostface tutted disapprovingly. He reached out, his gloved hand cupping your chin, wiping away tears with a scrap of his cloak. "Don't cry, my love," he whispered, his voice a chilling murmur. "I would hate to ruin your pretty mascara."

Your tear-streaked face, illuminated by the flickering lights of police cars in the distance, revealed the toll of the horror you had witnessed. As exhaustion overcame you, your body gave in, and you collapsed against the masked figure, your breaths shallow and ragged. Exhausted and broken, you could only muster silent sobs, as you succumbed to the darkness.

Ghostface's voice, a chilling contrast to the chaos that had unfolded, whispered reassurance to the shattered girl in his arms. "Oh, my poor dear... Don't worry. I will take good care of you, my precious gem." His words, seemingly soothing, echoed with an unsettling promise as he gently lifted you from the blood-stained scene, cradling you like a fragile doll.

Guiding you towards a hidden car, Ghostface laid you down in the backseat with a tenderness that contradicted the violence that had transpired moments ago. The muted glow of the streetlights illuminated his masked visage as he carefully arranged you, the weight of your unconscious form a reminder of the darkness that clung to him.

Returning to the house, Ghostface, a master of deception, meticulously staged the aftermath. Beomseok's lifeless body was draped in the iconic Ghostface costume, a macabre transformation that would divert any lingering suspicions. The scene bore the haunting imprint of a horror movie set, with the pale moonlight casting eerie shadows over the distorted reality he had crafted.

Having completed his sinister tableau, Ghostface returned to the idling car. Opening the door with a sense of purpose, he found you still lost in the refuge of unconsciousness. Ghostface slid into the driver's seat, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel with a steely resolve.

As the car glided away from the crime-ridden suburban tableau, Ghostface's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, a sinister smile hidden beneath the mask. The darkened highway stretched out before him, leading to the next town.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

The groggy haze began to lift from your mind as you slowly awoke in an unfamiliar bed. You winced, feeling a dull ache throughout your body, and a groan escaped your lips as you sat up. The room around you was dimly lit, and the bed you found yourself on was surprisingly comfortable.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, and a sudden wave of realization hit you. Memories of the horrifying events from the night before flooded back, and your heart sank. Yeji, your friend, was dead, and Ghostface had taken you.

Your hands gripped the edge of the table beside the bed as a heart-wrenching sob threatened to escape. You couldn't comprehend the nightmare you had become a part of.

A note on the table caught your attention, and you read the ominous message. "Fresh clothes in the closet, take a shower princess." The word 'princess' sent shivers down your spine, and your eyes widened with dread. Nevertheless, you gathered yourself and steeled your resolve.

Waddling towards the door, you tried the handle, only to find it locked. Frustration and fear fueled your determination. You gritted your teeth and surveyed the room for another way out. Spotting another door, you cautiously approached and turned the handle, revealing a surprisingly luxurious bathroom.

The sight of the pristine facilities contrasted sharply with the terror of the previous night. Taking a deep breath, you decided to follow the note's instructions. You crumpled the note in your hand, a silent rebellion against the unseen captor, before locking the bathroom door behind you.

The hot water cascaded over you, washing away the physical and emotional stains of the previous night. You lingered, lost in your thoughts, as if the water could cleanse you of the horror you had experienced.

Emerging from the shower, you found the promised clothes in the closet. A pair of pants and a warm sweater offered some comfort in this strange place. You dressed quickly, your mind racing with uncertainty and fear.

Once again facing the locked door, you sighed. The feeling of entrapment settled in your chest, but you pushed it aside, determined to confront whatever awaited you beyond that door. With one last glance around the room, you returned to the bed and sat, bracing yourself for whatever came next.

When the door to the bedroom clicked open, you cautiously pushed it ajar. Peering into the adjacent spaces, you found yourself in a kitchen with a faint aroma of something cooking. To your right, a living room unfolded, and in its midst sat Ghostface, the embodiment of your nightmares. Yet, he appeared different—regular jeans, a black t-shirt, and the ominous Ghostface mask, casually manspreading in a chair, hands resting comfortably on his lap. The mask concealed his expression, leaving you to grapple with the mystery of the man who had brought you here.

"Come on out, princess," his voice rumbled, carrying the roughness of a morning awakening. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes fixed on the mysterious figure. You cautiously stepped forward, closing the bedroom door behind you. The click of the lock echoed in the room, and Ghostface gestured for you to come closer.

With hesitance in your steps, you moved towards him, your eyes flickering between the enigmatic mask and the man beneath it. Ghostface didn't rush you, his posture remaining relaxed as if he had all the time in the world. 

But as you approached, his strong hands shot out, gripping your waist, and he effortlessly pulled you onto his lap. "There you are," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, as if this was an ordinary encounter.

You stiffened, gazing into the mask that concealed his identity. The weight of the question lingering in your eyes, you asked, "Who are you? Why did you do this to me?"

"Oh, my love," he replied, his voice softening, "I told you it's because I love you." Before you could react, his hands moved to the secure straps of the mask. Holding your breath, you watched as he unclasped the clasps, removing the Ghostface mask and tossing it aside. A gasp escaped your lips as Heeseung's handsome and sharp face was revealed.

"Heeseung!?" you exclaimed, the shock evident in your voice. The revelation left you speechless. "You're Ghostface?"

"Yes, I am," Heeseung confirmed, his grip on you firm but gentle. "And you are mine." With those words, he pulled you in for a kiss. You gasped at the unexpected intimacy. Conflicting emotions swirled within you—your long-time crush, Heeseung, was kissing you.

You felt an unexpected surge of warmth and a fluttering sensation deep in your stomach. Your heart and brain seemed to engage in a silent battle, each demanding you attention with conflicting emotions.

The warmth of the kiss sent a cascade of conflicting signals through you. On one hand, there was the undeniable thrill of being kissed by someone you had secretly admired for so long. His lips, warm and tender, pressed against yours, creating a sensory overload that your heart eagerly embraced.

But then your brain, the logical part of you, fought back with a barrage of questions and concerns. This was the same person who had, just moments ago, been hidden behind the Ghostface mask, the person who had orchestrated nights of terror that ended in tragedy. The internal struggle intensified, causing a whirlwind of emotions that left you momentarily disoriented.

Yet, despite the internal conflict, the kiss itself was undeniably magnetic. Heeseung's gentle caresses and the way he held you close seemed to overpower the rational part of your mind. The butterflies in your stomach danced, and for that brief moment, the chaos within you was silenced by the intoxicating allure of the kiss.

As Heeseung deepened the kiss, while his hands caressed your waist, your heart won the internal battle, and you reciprocated the kiss with fervor. Your thoughts became a distant murmur, and you surrendered to the swirling emotions, letting the warmth and intimacy of the moment envelop you.  

Heeseung smirked in the midst of the passionate embrace, his hands wrapped around you, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. Your lips met in a fervent dance, an intimate tango that seemed to defy the boundaries of time and reason. You felt the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his fingers on your hips, and the magnetic pull that seemed to bind you two together.

With a newfound boldness, you tightened your grip on Heeseung's shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric as if grounding yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rhythmic dance of your lips became a symphony of shared longing, and you found yourself unable to resist exploring further.

Slipping your hands up from his shirt to his cheeks, you savored the sensation of his skin beneath your fingertips. The kiss grew more passionate, and in an unspoken exchange, you let your fingers trace the contours of his face, memorizing the details that had long been masked by the ominous masks.

Your hands continued their journey, winding through Heeseung's hair. The once neatly styled locks now fell victim to your eager touch, tousled and disheveled by your exploring fingers. His hair, soft and slightly damp from a shower, felt soft beneath your touch.

As you pulled back from the kiss, you found yourself breathless, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the shared moment. Yet, when you gazed into Heeseung's eyes, you discovered a hunger, an unquenchable longing that mirrored your own conflicted emotions.

Heeseung, with his hair tousled from the passionate exchange, stared at you with a mixture of love and obsession. His puffy, red lips, moistened by the flick of his tongue, spoke volumes of the desire that lingered between you two. The air was charged with tension as he chased after your lips. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Undeterred by your withdrawal, Heeseung redirected his attention, placing lingering kisses along your jawline and down to your neck. His actions were filled with a possessive urgency, a declaration of the emotions that simmered beneath the surface. However, a low growl escaped him when you, using your grip on his tousled hair, pulled him back.

With a pout that accentuated the desire in his eyes, Heeseung looked up at you. His hands, now caressing up and down your sides, ventured down to your hips, fingers tracing the curves with an almost reverent touch. The room seemed to pulse with the ebb and flow of your desires, a dance of conflicting emotions and unspoken promises.

"Heeseung, wait... what about my mom? And my brother? They are, for sure, worried now," you voiced your concerns, turning away to confront the reality that lingered beyond the stolen moments of passion. Heeseung, undeterred, gently made you face him again with his right hand, the left continuing its tender exploration of your hip.

"Don't worry, Princess. It's all taken care of," Heeseung reassured, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around you. Before you could decipher the cryptic assurance, Heeseung seized the moment, pulling you down for another kiss. The words that lingered on the tip of your tongue dissolved into the sweet oblivion of the kiss. Heeseung's actions spoke louder than any explanation he could provide, and you found yourself willingly surrendering to the enchantment of the moment.

Lost in the depths of the kiss, Heeseung tilted his head, deepening the connection between you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the echo of their entwined breaths and the lingering taste of a love that defied logic and reason. As the seconds slipped away, your concerns were momentarily silenced, replaced by the intoxicating allure of a passion that seemed to have been waiting for this moment to ignite.

As Heeseung held you in his lap, a surge of gratitude and contentment washed over him. He couldn't help but feel fortunate to have you, the only woman he had ever wanted, nestled in the cocoon of his arms. Your warmth against him felt like a cherished promise of a future you would share together.

The room around you seemed to fade away as Heeseung reveled in the moment. The soft rhythm of your breathing created a gentle melody, an unspoken connection that echoed the depth of your growing bond. He gently traced patterns on your back, savoring the feeling of your closeness, as if committing every nuance of the experience to memory.

In that intimate embrace, Heeseung couldn't imagine anything more perfect. You was his, and he was yours—bound together by an unbreakable thread that wove through the fabric of the shared existence. As he pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head, he whispered words that echoed the sincerity of his heart, "Forever and ever, my love."

END OF PART 1

Masterlist:

Part 2

[folkloresthings]

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE — send a muse + a song and i’ll write a little drabble for it.

lance stroll and lover pls darling 🫶🏻

LOVER. ❨ lance stroll x reader ❩

“one, two, three — cheese!”

photo after photo, you cheeks were beginning to hurt from the amount of posing you had to do for chloe’s wedding photographer. they wanted pictures of every possible combination, and with you as bridemaid there was few you weren’t in. quickly do you fix the bride’s train before hopping off to the side, letting her and scotty get their own photos finally.

the day had been absolutely perfect. venice was beautiful, even more so on a day when two of your dearest friends were committing themselves to each other. from when you’d woken that morning, pulling yourself out of lance’s arms and hurrying to help chloe get ready, to trying you very hardest not to cry during the ceremony’s vows. you couldn’t fault a single thing.

“hello,” that familiar canadian drole whispers from behind you, ducking to press a kiss to your cheek. turning, you find lance and his boyish grin, his hands finding their rightful place on your hips. “have i told you how beautiful you look today?”

“only twenty times,” you hum, reaching up to kiss him quickly. your hands smooth over his tuxedo, adjusting his tie when you hear the snap of a shutter to your left. you head turns, finding chloe with her phone in her hand, smiling dotingly at you.

“hey — we’re supposed to be taking the pictures of you,” you chuckle, reaching aimlessly for the device. she shakes her head, glowing with excitement and post—marriage bliss.

“no!” she giggled, gesturing for you to pose. “it’s a day for celebrating love, and look at the two of you!”

you cheeks turn pink, easily allowing lance to pull you flush to his side. you smile up at him, letting chloe take as many pictures as she’d like, drowning in the sea of love in his big brown eyes.

when the sun falls in the italian sky and the music pumps through the speakers, the party grows even wilder. you try to take it easy on the champagne, wanting to remember every little part of the night — but you still end up with your shoes discarded and spinning chloe around the dance floor.

“y/n!” chloe called, hurrying over to you and dragging scotty behind her. her eyes were glazed, drunk on moet chandon and love for her new husband. “i know i’m supposed to throw this but i don’t want anyone else to have it.”

your brows furrow, glancing curiously at claire and lawrence’s knowing smirks. before you know it, chloe’s gorgeous wedding bouquet is being pushed into your hands with a giggle. your eyes widen towards the bride, your heart fluttering in your chest. behind you, lawrence squeezes at your shoulder.

“chloe…” you murmur, hoping your emotions don’t spill over too much. the whole stroll family had taken you in from the second they met you and you’d never been happier to find them all. “you’re not supposed to just give this to someone. it’s all about luck.”

“lance has all the luck he needs with you,” chloe gushes. “i’ve never seen him happier than in the time he’s been with you, and i’ve seen him with a few girls. he never shuts up about you, his races have gotten so much better, he’s gotten so much better. he’s a fool if he doesn’t put a ring on your finger soon.”

lunging forward, you gather her up in a hug, soon to be stolen away by scotty’s own arms. “thank you,” you sniffle, gripping the bouquet. the song changes above you, the gentle melody of taylor swift beginning to play.

chloe and scotty head back to the dance floor, along with some other couples, and your heart turns you to search for lance amongst the party. you spot him just returning from the bar, your favourite drink in his hand, grinning manically at you. only when his eyes flicker to the flowers in your hand does he send you a quizzical look.

“what’s this?” he muses, glancing between you and the roses.

“chloe’s bouquet. it seems your family are rather eager to have another stroll wedding very soon.” you chuckle, setting the bouquet down on the nearby table. lance’s hands follow, your drinks set aside, before he leads you straight to the middle of the dancefloor.

“can i go where you go? can we always be this close?”

lance rests his hand on your waist, the other cupping your own palm, swaying softly to the song. everyone else around you fading away to insignificance. “i am too, you know.”

you look up to him, searching for what he means. “hm?”

“eager for another stroll wedding, very soon,” his echoing of your own words moments ago wind your breath, feet accidentally halting under you mid—dance. if it weren’t for lance’s guidance you were sure you’d never move again.

“you are?” your voice chokes in your throat, seized up by your heart filling with love by the minute.

“mhm. are you?” lance’s tone is teasing, because he knows your answer. you would both follow each other to the ends of the earth, for the rest of your days. that was something you’d decided on a long time ago.

“i’m yours, lance. married or not,” you smile, a hand coming to brush at his clean shaven cheek. “but another excuse to dress up would be nice.”

you grin and he mirrors it, spinning you to the music. your feet lifted from the ground, a squeal of laughter leaving you, until it’s swallowed up by his kiss. careful not to lose himself in it, considering his family are present, but enough to spill every ounce of adoration he feels for you past plump lips.

“i love you,” he mumbles into your mouth, noses nudging. “but let’s not spoil chloe and scotty’s day. i’ll do it properly, soon, i promise.”

you shake your head, unable to wipe the silly smile from your face. “you don’t have to. i don’t even need a ring, just you.”

“don’t be silly,” lance laughs, pulling you impossibly closer. “i never turn down a chance to spoil you.”

he silences you with another kiss, your head eventually resting on his chest while you move against the soft music. beside you, chloe mirrors your position, sending you a soft wink. and you know everything will be fine: a perfect night, a perfect family, a perfect love.

“darling you’re my, my, my, my lover.”

[wolven91]

Drifting - Part 4

Casper felt *strong*.

He felt like until now, there had been a fear in the back of his mind. A fear that one day his body would fail him.

But as he reached for the metal shutter door, several meters wide and taller than him, his muscles pulled without hesitation. There was no pain, no pressure as his arms engaged and tore the metal upwards with the ease of lifting a single petal that had fallen from a delicate flower.

Once the shutter was mostly up, it stopped and dented, jammed at an angle, Casper considered it for a moment and mentally shrugged, his arms not being able to make that gesture at the moment.

Ducking under and through the shutter door, the man looked out across a great landscape. Turning to peer left and right, the building he had been in was a featureless concrete slab that showed signs of scorch marks and lumps of the solid material broken and pitted as if shot with a gun.

There were no windows or doors all along the space with the exception of the series of hanger bay doors. But Casper had no interest in those, he was staring at the odd shapes and objects in the distance partially hidden by huge rolling hills and dunes.

Who could stop him now from taking a quick look? He felt *free*. What would have caused him pause before was no longer a concern.

The moment he stepped from the safety of the shutter door, he felt his foot sink into the earth, unsteadying him, making him look down. Casper watched as great mounds of dirt built up around his metal foot, as if he was far heavier than normal. He *was* heavier. Why was he..?

It came rushing back. He was piloting a mech. It was an odd sensation to remember such an important and obvious concept. How could he forget such a thing?

The man straightened and took a breath.

Breathing in the alien world's clean air it satisfied him. It was cool and rich with untainted oxygen. He could taste that there were very few particulates to damage him. He knew information this on a factual level.

The young man breathed in again; he could feel his lungs fill and his heart sing for it. He touched a hand to his chest over his heart, only for a 'clang' to draw his head down.

A metal hand, against a metal chest.

If he could frown, he would have. He settled for his optics to click shut, clean themselves, then click open again.

Why was it so hard to remember who he was inside the machine?

"Casper! You having fun there?" Demanded Zeet inside Casper's head.

[I think I broke the door. Sorry about that.]

A moment's pause.

"Ha! Break all the doors you like, it appears like you're already, ready to go for a stroll?" He sounded completely unfazed by the human's destruction; almost giddy even.

[The air out here is... I don't know how to describe it. Cleaner?]

"Your generator needs oxygen to burn, the one in your chest is only a basic model. Barely enough power to run your current rig, although I have tinkered with it, so it should suffice for what we have planned." Came a smug response from Zeet.

"I suspect the air out there is a better quality than the hanger, what with the enclosed space and multiple generators running." The head engineer explained, again, unbothered by the idea of generators running without significant air flow in an enclosed space.

[I think you're right.]

Casper took another step, for the second time finding his footing unstable. Zeet seemed to anticipate Casper's next question.

"We deliberately use loose dirt in the starting area, the idea is to force new pilots to learn how to adjust and fall without fear of being at the top of a hill or a distance away from rescue."

[I think I'm alright.]

As Casper took more steps, they became more confident. He stopped looking down and looked up, to the horizon where the strange square shapes peeked over the hills.

[What's that?] The human asked, while the mech briefly lifted one of its arms and pointed at the structures before dropping it back down to its side. Why did it move so organically?

"An assault course of sorts, although this would be far into your future as a pilot before you'd go over there. That said, I feel that it would be rather pointless to have you make such progress without letting you find your limits. Why not head over and see what you do?" Suggested the voice.

"This is ill advised. We haven't got nearly enough sensors or monitors to keep track of the relevant information." Came Wren's voice, quiet until now.

"You're telling me you don't have his readouts?"

"Not nearly as many as I'd like or choose! This was meant to be a proof of concept! Not a full-scale exercise!"

"Then you will take a page out of our books and plan for any eventuality in future. Casper! Onwards!" Zeet demanded, dismissing the doctor's comments with an almost audible flick of his hand.

Casper urged himself out into the open fields and over the green grass covered dunes. He wandered over to the distant objects without issue, merely walking up then down the rough terrain without delay. By the time he began to near the objects, the human inside the towering machine had long forgotten that he existed once more. Once he arrived at the strange shapes, the young man discovered that he found that they made up a replica of a large town, or centre of a city.

As he walking amongst the buildings, choosing the centre of a street, he noted there were no vehicles, the shop fronts weren't hollow and the buildings themselves; solid blocks without features. It was strange to be reminded of what the world was supposed to somewhat look like now, as he strolled down the main road of the faux town.

[I thought you said this was an assault course?] Casper sent back to the hanger, not seeing the drones overhead, watching his every move. He gingerly laid a hand on the top of what could have been a low corner shop as he reached a intersection of four roads.

"Well we can certainly put you through your paces if you like?" Came a flat tone. Gone was the confidence or giddy vibe to his words. Casper's optics clicked as he felt a strange sensation of danger creep over him. He looked down at one of his hands and made a fist before relaxing. Unlike his own hands, that had a constant tremble since the loss of Earth, these metal hands were perfectly still. Casper never noticed this however.

Casper had done assault courses on Earth. 'Team building' exercises. He wasn't brawny or even particularly fast. He was clever, but powerful wasn't a word he'd use in any self description.

Until today...

He *felt* powerful. He could trust his legs, trust his arms.

To the camera drones overhead, the basic mech, one that was designed to take punishment, but not excel at much else, tilted its reconnaissance unit that sat atop its shoulders as if to crack it's neck. If it were organic, of course.

[Go for it.]

"Understood." Came the immediate reply before Casper got the profound feeling that his next words were not address to the human. "Qik? You're up."

[Qik?]

"Defend yourself Casper." Came a dispassionate response.

[Wait, what? I thought this was an assault course?]

"Defeat the aggressor. No further communication will be acknowledged or sent." Zeet stated, before the human felt whatever connection that was within Casper's head, closedoff.

'Defend' himself? 'Defeat the aggressor'?!

Was he expected to fight? Casper couldn't fight! He'd never been in anymore more than a scuffle when he was twelve! He stepped away from the corner building and into the centre of the intersection, looking around himself for a threat. There were alleys and smaller roads he could duck down to break line of sight, but he need to know *where* the 'aggressor' was coming from!

Casper blinked, and in his panic, his need to find the threat, he felt his mind suddenly expand past what he could see.

It was as if a new sense had just opened up to him. Like he'd lived his life with his eyes closed and was blind, only to discover now; that he could see. This new sensation was not sight, but Casper could *feel* movement of something large and fast approaching him from the hangers to the south, where he had been only a few minutes before.

Whatever it was, it was big and fast. He could sense it was as big as he was. Nothing like the tiny dots that floated harmlessly above.

Aware of the direction of the threat, Casper ducked, dropping his head low and ensuring he himself couldn't be seen over the tops of any of the lower buildings. Quickly shuffling, the man got off the street and ducked down a side road, scooting further down, almost leaning against the building with his back. He paid no attention to the scrapes and loose concrete dust the metal of his back scratched off the structures.

{What idiot did that moron trick into this game this time?}

It was a genderless statement, devoid of emotion. It wasn't talking, like Zeet over the radio. It was text, and an image of a command line and the words filled in at the front of Casper's mind. The man could feel that he could respond.

[I'm the new guy.]

{Cute. Come out and I'll make this quick.}

[Sure, where are you?]

{Finally, a smart one, I'm coming up the main ingress.}

The young man had no interest in revealing himself. Just because the words carried no tone or emotion did not mean that he was a fool. He could sense the threat, it had crossed the distance from the hangers to the fake-town in a matter of less than a minute, whereas it took him substantially longer. Now though, he could see the pulsing 'blip' in his mind's eye. It was slowly making its way up the centre of the town, truthfully being exactly where it had told him it would be.

{I'm starting to suspect you're thinking you're clever...}

[Why's that?]

{You're hiding.}

[I'm struggling to work the controls. Only just started piloting.]

{I don't like liars 'new guy'}

As he crept around the main road, quickly tip toing across the intersecting main road, and using the alleys and smaller side roads to move around, Casper caught his first glimpse of the threat. It was a mech, but unlike his own; blocky, thick with exposed metal, pistons and wires. This one was sleek, designed for speed, but no less deadly. It reminded him of a sword. The sharp angles, the pointed feet that stabbed into the ground. It had a series of spikes along it's back like boney wings.

The whole thing screamed 'professional', all wrapped up in a red and silver paint job. It was the mech of a main character to Casper's eyes.

It didnt so much as walk or move either, the word that sprang to Casper's mind was 'stalking'. It stalked forwards, it's 'head' a pointed eagle-like structure, turning left to right, obviously scanning for him.

[What makes you think I'm a liar?]

{This is just getting insulting now. I'm the final test 'new guy'. You think they'd put you against me? Before you can even move?}

[Stranger things have happened.]

Casper got no response to his last message, but watched as the pointed head, ducked low and out of sight. He was positioned behind her now, closer to the south, nearer the hangers where she had entered, but he now lost track of her. Casper wasn't a fighter, he had no intention of getting into a brawl and made his way to the edge of the town fully intending on running back to the hangers.

The young man wasn't without some knowledge of how to throw a punch. After a physical altercation in his younger school years, his overly dramatic mother had sent him to self defence classes to stand up to the bullies. Instead of being beaten up in just a school setting, he was summarily beaten up in an official setting instead.

All he'd learnt was howto roll with the punches, literally. Casper never stayed on the ground, that was where 'bad' always ended up 'worse'.

Still crouched, sometimes using his hands against the hardtop of the fake roads to help him move, Casper finally made it to the edge of the town and learnt that it wasn't going to be that easy.

The second part of his mech broke the edge boundary of the faux town, a klaxon sounded along with one of the annoying drones swooping down with a red, flashing light directly over his head.

Casper bolted across the road and practically dived into an alleyway, into the town and away from the alarm, which remained in place. His head poked out from around a corner further into the town to see if the mysterious mech had approached to investigate.

The pointed leg that swung at Casper's head missed by what felt like mere inches, saved only because he flinched at something moving fast and fell backwards, deeper into the alleyway. The assaulting red and silver mech obliterated the plain wall with its kick in a shower of destroyed concrete and rebar; bent and demolished at the sheer force of its strike.

{You're fast.} Came a message.

Casper was up, his fists raised, elbows in. He was in his pocket and ready to protect his head.

The heel kick to his solar plexus sent him backwards, arms outstretched by the sheer force as he flew out of the other end of the alleyway and rolling head over heels into the main road again.

{Not fast enough.}

Casper backward rolled onto his feet, one of the buildings arresting his movement in a jarring thud that stuttered his vision. He didn't think, merely moved as he dived to his left down the main road. The besieged building that he'd lent against only moments ago was already buckled, but the rocket propelled mech that slammed into it with its shoulder, destroyed it in a shower of crumbling dust and materials.

The assaulting mech stomped from the cloud of debris and glared down the main road; its own optic sensors scanning for the new pilot.

The road was empty.

{You know I would have already won this right?} The red and silver mech taunted, stalking forwards, looking left and right, clearing buildings. It was sending the message over an open band, so anyone with ears on could hear it.

[I'm still standing.] Came a similar open frequency message. Qik snarled. She couldn't track or know where the new pilot was, she was working on visuals only.

{They disable my tracking system. To give you the tinest of a chance.}

She was crouched low, clearing corners, making sure the 'new guy' didn't try what she had and kick her recon unit in. Without eyes, it was an automatic win for whoever could see.

[If it's any consolation, I don't think this has a tracking system.]

Qik smirked, cocky son of a bitch. She was going to enjoy breaking him down, bit by-

[Heads up!]

A shadow flickered across the street and Qik span on one foot, swinging her leg round in a perfect roundhouse kick that would cut any mech that was in range behind her in half.

But despite her aiming high, looking to destroy an arm or even knock off the head of the opponent, her kick was too low.

From atop a building, the new mech was halfway through a jump and falling rapidly towards Qik. It was a terrible, stupid idea. Gravity was not friendly with anything as big and heavy as a mech. Only those rigs with jump packs and boosters could consider leaving the ground. But this idiot had climbed a building and had launched itself at her?!

So shocked was she, that this idiot would try such an insane and self-destructive move, Qik couldn't decide how to react. She had literally never seen this before.

That delay was enough.

On his way past, Casper grabbed a hold of the eagle-esque head and held on tight, his metal fingers denting the recon unit casing.

Gravity grabbed him and threw him against her, flipping him over her while he hurtled towards the ground in a mulit-ton mech that landed squarely on its recon unit, destroying into a million tiny, expensive pieces. Qik landed on her back, but immediately lost all visual read outs as her own unit was partislly torn from its housing.

{*What?!*} Qik demanded, unbelieving this idiot could succeed in such a stupid move! This was squidgit-shit!

"What?!" Blurted Zeet, blinking as the human had just defeated, the undefeated mercenary; Qik on his very first jaunt within a single hour of his first mech startup.

[What?] Asked Casper, also blinded and unable to move, but wholly unaware of the shitstorm he had just started.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[starfall-spirit]

My gwynriquin offering is nonexistent in no shape to post yet, but my intended Secrets offering works for today as well.

@polyacotarweek Day 1: Beginnings

I like to pretend something came out of the line, "As High Lady, you are mine." This is part one. Still SFW. Part two will be NSFW. Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

As High Lady, you are mine.

Feyre couldn’t get that damn declaration out of her head. Sure her dear friend and training partner had listed every member of the inner circle as loyal people that would come to her defense, but had the second half of his statement been plaguing her thoughts for the past two weeks? Was the second half of his statement making her fearful to drop her mental shields around her own mate?

No.

Cauldron, what she’d give to forget the words he’d so casually thrown that morning. To go back to seeing him as a big brother figure and not an attractive male fueling… curiosities.

“He was frustrated with us,” she muttered to herself. “That’s all.”

“Who?”

She jumped from her seat at her desk as Rhys strolled into the office they now shared. “Rhys. I thought you’d still be out training.” The clock behind her chimed noon. Perhaps she’d just lost track of time, as Rhys was clearly bathed and changed out of his training leathers.

“Az and I finished some time ago. And you’re dodging my question.” Gliding over to the desk, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her into a tender kiss that only fed her guilt. “If something’s bothering you, I’m always here to lend an ear. Is it something that happened in Spring? A nightmare returning?”

“I’m fine. Nothing like that, I promise.”

He gave a soft hum, sinking into the desk chair and tugging her into his lap. “Alright then. Can I ask one more question?” She nodded, wrapping her arms behind his neck and around his waist. “Cassian says you’ve been a bit distracted lately. Distancing yourself during training. I’ve noticed as much at dinner as well. He fears he’s upset you somehow.” She grimaced, turning her head. “There it is. Care to share your troubles?”

How was she supposed to say this without doing any damage?

“If you’ve had a petty argument, the bonds in our circle run deeper than that.”

Feyre flinched. As careful as she’d been with her shielding, he’d found a crack to snake past. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. But this secret couldn’t be kept forever. Not without weighing her down. Rhys said nothing, silent and patient, one hand stroking up and down her spine as she carefully structured her confession. “Our bond is mere months old. I want to say up front, I don’t expect anything to change or open.”

He raised a brow. “To open?”

“He said something the other day,” she began again, desperately wishing she could hide her face as she confessed her horrid desire. “It was something in his tone. His phrasing. Gods, you’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Rhys wasn’t an idiot. She knew she’d given him enough crumbs by now to pick up on what had been bothering her. Humiliated, she buried her face in her hands, trying to find the words that would inflict the least damage.

That is until she felt a silent vibration against her shoulder and all brain function came to a sudden halt. Her mate was laughing at her. Daring to raise her eyes, she found an infuriating smirk on his face. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“For finding Cassian attractive? Hardly.” His smirk shifted to a more thoughtful expression, the hand rubbing her back spider-walking up her spine to summon a soft shutter. “I’ll admit, with the bond being so new I do find myself feeling a bit possessive. Very possessive,” he amended as she gave him the look. “Glare all you like, darling. We both know you don’t mind it as much as you pretend to. As short a time as we’ve been bonded, I know what it does to you when a male calls you his.”

“How did you…”

“You’ve been exceptional, solidifying and holding your shields. But no one’s perfect, my love.” Feyre groaned, the sound soft, but expressing utter mortification. “Not to mention I got a nearly identical lecture the day Cassian was well enough to stand on his own and yell at me for not dragging you home from Spring. When there’s physical attraction and emotional connections mingling, there’s only so long you can pretend it’s something platonic.”

“There’s no way you’re just… accepting this.”

“It doesn’t thrill me, considering the fresh bond, but it doesn’t plant any doubts about the two of us or my relationship with Cassian. The question now is how interested you are in exploring this. Do you want to approach him about it?”

Feyre thought a moment, reading into the tension in the set of his shoulders, the slight change in his breathing, the set of his jaw. He’d put his feelings aside for her, as he always had, but he was not prepared to open their relationship in any way yet, and truly assessing her own feelings, with her confession behind her, neither was she. “No, Rhys. Not yet.” ~~~~~ Several weeks later, Feyre was struggling to stay true to her denial. The problem, Cassian had volunteered to substitute for Azriel in her flight training, as the spymaster was outside of the city for the next two days. To put it simply, while she had improved several required skills in flight maneuvering and wasn’t constantly plummeting into the lake, she still needed correction on multiple points in her form and technique.

While Az had taken a verbal approach to providing pointers, Cassian appeared to be a bit more hands on. He asked for her consent, of course. Illyrians were taught not to touch others’ wings without permission from an early age. But with that permission she became hyper-aware of every little adjustment and guiding touch to her wings, conscious of the heat of his body behind her.

She’d grown used to the close proximity of their daily physical training and fit into it easily enough. Her attraction to him hadn’t changed anything on that front, once her guilt had faded. But this wasn’t the short and sharp impact of a fist or a brief moment being pinned to the mat—though the latter could be hard to brush off at times. This was downright intimate.

His thumb graze the ridge of one of the more delicate bones, prominent from the back of her wings, finally fracturing her resistance. “I think…” She cleared her throat. “I think this should be the last attempt today. Like you said a minute ago, the winds are picking up and I have a lot to catch up on. The official things, I mean.”

He quirked a brow. “Official things?”

“Court things. With Rhys. In our office. You know, official things.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, but he nodded when she held her position. “Of course. One last try, like you said. And remember what I told you about the updraft coming in.” She nodded, but was still thrown off, wings angled in a way that did the exact opposite of what she was attempting. “It’s a tough one,” Cassian told her, trying to ease her frustration. “And Az was right. He’s probably a better instructor for you with his experience.”

Feyre didn’t bother pointing out this was no longer about mental blocks. “Thanks, Cass. I’ll see you.”

The second she winnowed to the townhouse and found Rhys, she knew she had his full attention. She didn’t care for the clear suspicion on his face either. “Interesting flight lesson, Feyre darling?”

“It was somewhat successful,” she said honestly. “Until the winds picked up.”

He nodded, tugging her flush against his chest. “And was Cassian able to instruct you as well as Az?”

“His methods were different, but worked well enough.”

“Different?”

“Not as verbal,” she gritted out.

“Ah.” He smiled into her neck. “Starting to see how easily you can torture a male, touching his wings?”

She smirked, even as he grazed a nail over the sensitive joint where the membrane met her leathers, summoning a shiver. “You’ve made that no secret,” Feyre murmured, folding one side of his shirt collar down to flick her tongue over the skin she exposed.

Growling softly, Rhys drew back, raising her chin. “It’s going to take more than that if you’re trying to distract me from what I felt through the bond. The tension slipping through.” She winced. “Did he notice it? Return it?”

Feyre blinked. Despite the results of their original conversation, he almost seemed hopeful. “If he did, he hid it well.” They both knew Cassian would never be the type to get between them. Especially considering he was clueless to Rhys' stance in all of this. Hell, Feyre couldn’t quite figure it out yet either. “Rhys—”

“I don’t want to hear an apology regarding any of this, Feyre. And over the past few weeks I’ve been reconsidering the thought of sharing you.” His fingers curled around the back of her neck, his thumb stroking down the side of her throat. “Reminiscing our wild youth.” Her brows shot to her hairline and he chuckled. “In five-hundred years, you try a thing or two.”

She nodded. “So, if I wanted to try a thing or two?”

His lips curled back into that soft smirk, his mental shields parting. “Show me.”

~~~~~

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