#haven’t watched it yet but i couldn’t pass up on posting these

[finalgowrl]

my bad, didn’t mean to moan that loud

[crimsntwlip]

it’s you | theodore nott.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

warnings: friends to lovers, reader avoiding theodore, reader status not mentioned, fluff fluff fluff !! kissing, google translated italian

summary: based on this request!

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy this & happy valentines day lovelies!!!

| posted: 2/13/24 | masterlist |

y/n and theodore had always been two peas in a pod, ever since they first met on the hogwarts express during their first year. even when they were separated by the sorting hat, theodore being sorted into slytherin while y/n had been sorted into ravenclaw, they both knew they would stick together over the years.

y/n was currently sitting in divination class, your mind distracted as professor trelawney rambled on about interpreting signs and symbols from tea leaves.

it was a week prior to valentine’s day and you still haven’t been asked to be anyone’s valentines. you tried to not let it get into your head, but with everyone else around you getting mingled up, you couldn’t help but yearn to get asked. although there was a rumor going around that theodore had already asked another girl, you hoped it was untrue.

theodore, who was seated next to you, noticed your distracted figure and gently nudged you out of your thoughts. you wiped away your thoughts as you turned to face theodore, who appeared concerned.

you turned away, facing back to the professor as you were ready to brush it off when he leaned closer to your level. he whispered,

“are you okay, bella?”

y/n couldnt help but blush suddenly from how close he had gotten. you cleared your throat, trying to push the blush away, theodore's concern softened into a gentle smile.

“i’m fine, theo,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves in the quiet classroom. theodore's eyes searched yours, seeing the slight unease lingering behind them. he knew you well enough to sense when something was bothering you, even if you tried to hide it.

theodore nodded slightly, respecting your boundaries yet still keeping a watchful eye on you in hopes he would get something out of you at the end of class.

once class came to an end, you quickly pack your things away. you had plans to meet luna in the library for some studying. theodore stood by, watching you pack before he spoke.

“y/n, you know you can talk to me ri-”

“yeah thanks theo, sorry i have to go meet luna.” you quickly shut him down, hurriedly walking out. leaving theodore with a disappointing expression behind as he watch you go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

when you arrived at the library, luna was already waiting for you at your usual table, perusing through a dusty old book with her signature dreamy expression. as she looked up and noticed your arrival, a smile lit up her face. once you settled in and began to study, luna noticed the distant look on your face and raised an eyebrow in question.

“y/n! what's on your mind? you seem a bit distracted today,” luna asked softly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

you sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “i just can't shake off this feeling of unease, luna. It's silly, really.” you paused. luna's expression turned sympathetic as she listened intently, offering you a comforting smile.

you continued, “its just.. valentine's day approaching and... well, nothing special planned,” you admitted, feeling a bit vulnerable opening up about your feelings.

as you were talking about your feelings about the upcoming holiday, theodore was making his way towards the library, in hopes he would run into you. as he entered the library he passed through the tall shelves, pausing as he heard your voice.

“and it’s not like i don’t want to get asked- don’t get me wrong but i was just hoping theodore would’ve asked me?”

theodore's heart skipped a beat as he heard his name mentioned by you. he had been hesitant to ask you to be his valentine, unsure if you felt the same way about him. but now, hearing your words filled him with a surge of hope and courage. he quickly grabbed a random book off the shelf, leaning to get a closer listen but still trying to stay hidden.

“i dont know luna-“ you groaned before continuing. “i mean bloody hell its been 6 whole years of this unrequited love! now i feel a bit silly.. and there are rumors going around about how theodore has already asked another girl. maybe i should give up..”

“you shouldn’t feel silly for loving someone,” luna spoke softly, comforting her friend. “plus rumors are just rumors y/n, they might not even be true.” luna offered you a gentle smile before silence hit the air again. not awkward silence but instead comforting silence, you were grateful you had a friend like luna.

theodore's heart skipped a beat once again. how could he have been so blind? as silence filled the air once more, he had forgotten he was even hiding until a second-year student bumped into him, causing him to drop the book he was holding and revealing his hidden spot.

as the sudden sound caught your attention, your head snapped up and you found yourself locking eyes with theo, who appeared startled like a deer caught in headlights

“hello..” theodore breathed out, feeling embarrassed that he was caught. you stood up quickly, “theo! how long have you been there?!”

theodore stood there, sheepish and unsure of how to respond. he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an excuse. “uh, not long, i just arrived...” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze.

you felt embarrassed. you knew theodore had heard everything. you gulped, hastily gathered your belongings, apologizing to luna, and made your excuses before rushing out of the library. leaving theodore behind once again, watching you go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it has been days since the events occurred, and you still cannot bring yourself to face theodore. despite his efforts to talk about what happened, you have been avoiding him, afraid that you may have hurt your relationship.

theodore noticed your attempt at avoiding him. whenever you would see him come around the corner, you would always turn the other direction. if he approached you, you would suddenly remember something urgent you needed to take care of.

theodore couldn't bear the distance that had now grown between the two of you. he missed your company, your laughter, and the comforting bond that you both once had. it pained him to see you avoiding him.

on the day prior to valentines day, you were walking through the hogwarts corridors, trying your best to avoid theodore yet again. he finally caught up to you, his voice was gentle and laced with concern as he called out to you, “y/n, please... can we talk?”

you stopped in your tracks, reluctant but unable to ignore the pleading tone in his voice. you turned to face him, and in that moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the hurt that mirrored your own. taking a deep breath, you finally nodded, signaling your willingness to listen.

theodore took a step closer, his gaze searching yours for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. “i... i heard what you said in the library,” he began, his voice soft yet filled with emotion.

you interrupted him abruptly, assuming he would turn you down. “yes theo, i love you okay!” you said frustratedly, a faint blush crept up on theodores cheeks as you confessed. but before he could respond, you quickly added, "but I understand if it's not something you're interested in. i value our friendship too much to risk i-” cutting you off, he reached out, gently cupping your cheeks as he brought you into a kiss.

as you felt his warm lips pressing against yours, a rush of emotions flooded through you. the shock faded away as you kissed him back, melting into it.

when you finally pulled back, your eyes met theodore's, and you saw relief in his gaze.

“y/n,” theodore whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin affectionately. “you've always been something more to me,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. “and i want you to know that those rumors about me asking someone else were completely false. it was always you, y/n. it has always been you.”

as theodore's words sank in, you could feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. you had never anticipated that he felt this way about you, and now that he had laid his feelings bare, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.

he continued, “and i've been wanting to ask you out for a while now, but i was afraid of ruining what we have. but if you're willing to take a chance on me, i’d love nothing more than for you to be mine.”

tears glistened in your eyes as you reached up to hold his hand against your cheek, savoring the warmth of his touch. “theodore,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw emotion, “i never thought you saw me the same way.”

a smile tugged at theodore's lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i've been blind not to see it sooner,” he confessed, his gaze intense and unwavering. “i don't want to waste any more time pretending that we're just friends when we could be so much more.”

with a surge of courage, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss once again.

[eddiemunsonw]

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[uplatterme]

false god

—sub!dainsleif/dom!amab!reader, priest!reader | reader is called ‘father’, throatfucking, cockstepping, first half is plot and then the other is filth.

—and after posting about writing for dain since january, i actually finally finished one for him!

This isn’t the first time that such a thing had happened to the Bough Keeper.

Such a thing was, accidentally teleporting himself to a place he didn’t mean to, partly due to exhaustion and sleepless nights.

It was often like these that the immortality cast upon him mocked him more than anything. 

Droplets of water started to fall onto his hair, then eventually onto his body. He stares into the dark sky, the coldness of the rain bringing more comfort than it does harm.

Dainsleif sighs, and instead of teleporting away to his right destination, he starts to walk and explore this newfound place.

There isn’t much to say about where he’s landed himself, and frankly, he’s thankful for that. Silence is a gift for him nowadays and even when he’s isolated, it’s rare that he isn’t plagued by awful memories that keep him from just closing his eyes for longer than a few minutes.

His slow steps are halted though, when he sees that he has brought himself in front of a very peculiar building. The rain continues to soak his body as the man stares at the white architecture and the statue that is displayed in front.

He chuckles. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. His luck had never been the one to land on his side, he didn’t know why he expected otherwise.

It’s quite big for a chapel, especially since he doesn’t recognize the figure in front. Still, it’s one of a god’s, nonetheless. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised considering the lengths that devotees had gone to.

His curiosity gets the best of him when he goes nearer the said building, wanting to examine the sculpture. However, before he could even get a closer look, the wooden entrance opens.

The Khaenri'ahn’s first instinct is to transport himself away but finds that to be useless as he meets the eyes of another. What he didn’t expect next, is genuine worry.

“My goodness! Are you alright?” 

He almost gets confused as to why one would react in such horror. He doesn’t have any blood on him, does he?

Dainsleif looks down, not wanting to traumatize a random stranger…and discovers that there’s nothing wrong with him?

He lifts his head back up, only to find you nowhere near the doors of the chapel. He wonders where you are for a quick second until he feels something warm covering his body.

“I hope my robe will make do…Come on, get inside. You must be cold.” His reluctance is evident in his face but before he can even say anything, he’s pushed inside the chapel, much to his distaste.

Him stepping inside such a place was too much for him already that he forgot the fact that he’s wearing a robe, one that he assumed was no ordinary one.

Dainleif wants to take it off and so he tries to, at least.

“Keep it. I apologize I don’t have any spare clothes at the moment.”

He really does not want to wear a priest’s robe. 

“Did you come here for the mass? I’m afraid it ended an hour ago…Ah, but you can still stay until the rain stops.” You offer generously.

“No. I just happened to be passing by.” He explains.

He watches as your mouth gapes, looking for the words to say after you’ve just brought him in here out of his will.

“That makes sense…I was wondering why I haven’t seen you before. Not that it matters, you can still stay. The Chapel of our God is glad to help any troubled souls.”

He takes offense at that. 

“Troubled, you say? That’s quite a big assumption of a man you’ve just met.” His tone is as monotone as ever, yet that doesn’t hide the disdainful look that lingers in his bright eyes.

You muse.

“Ah yes, a non-troubled person that enjoys looking gloomy and letting the rain pour all over them.”

Dainsleif bites his tongue at that.

“I’ll show you around.”

While it does interest him that this chapel worships a god that isn’t of the seven, that doesn’t mean that he wants to learn more about a dead god who was defeated in the archon war just like the others. Although he presumes that the way you tell of their tales makes it somewhat bearable.

Even if it’s not what he expected.

It’s not as overwhelming as he had thought, but perhaps that was due to the lack of nuns he usually sees when it comes to churches.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask fondly, stopping your rambling about your said god just to listen to him.

“Does this place have many attendees?”

“Not quite…but it’s a lot if you consider they’re followers of a God who isn’t one of the seven.”

Frankly, Dainsleif doesn’t get it. It’s not as if all these masses you lead would ever lead to something else. It’s just wasted hard work, if he’s to be brutally honest.

He can tell that there’s a lot of admiration and work you have put into this, but for what reason? What reason is there to keep spreading the word of someone you haven’t even personally met?

Would your faith waiver if knowledge of your god performing deemed evil acts is brought upon you?

“Should we continue the tour?” You ask.

He politely shakes his head, thoughts still lingering in his head.

“We must adhere to these values that our God has specified in their writings…that our way of living as a mortal is something that should be celebrated and not frowned upon…”

The non-believer sits at the last row of the chapel, somewhat half-heartedly listening to your words as you read passages from a book in your hands.

He only watches, observing the entire view in front of him. How people reply in unison whenever you say a certain phrase, an exchange that he finds to be quite strange. 

The mass isn’t that long, yet you still manage to lead that hour with grace, making sure that every part of it goes well without any fault.

How you stand to the side, leaning on the podium with a smile as everyone sings along with the choir.

Dainsleif’s eyes meet yours and he sees you mouth a greeting to him.

…He supposed that he can stay for a minute when everyone has gone.

He sees you grin as you start walking towards him, your robe neat and tidy as ever.

Surprisingly, he speaks first.

“I’m surprised you still have a recollection of me.”

“It’s only been a few months.” You reply, your voice soft and soothing, unlike the way you spoke as you preached earlier.

Most people would choose to forget. “You’re different in person than you are earlier.”

“Perhaps.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the chapel, the mosaic windows dim the bright sunlight from the outside but that only results in the colored glass reflecting stunningly on your face.

He takes the initiative and speaks again.

“Is it because I’m not a follower?”

Your breathing catches on his ear. “Maybe.”

He wonders if you know of his lineage and if that’s the reason why you had kept an eye out for him, suspicions rousing through your brain.

“Father.” The change of tone to formality shocks you a little that you were forced to question why he’s suddenly calling you that.

Your awkward chuckle echoes through the building. “What are you calling me that for?”

“Just seeing if your attitude would change. If you’re truly as honest as you present yourself to be.”

You click your tongue. “Is there a reason you came here?”

There it is. A snarky tone. He knew he was right to come back here. 

Why was he sent here before? Was someone playing tricks on him? The Abyss? The gods? He knows there has to be a reason for him being teleported here that day.

“May I ask how someone becomes a member of your church, Father?”

He hears you sigh deeply. Why?

Aren’t more members what you want and need?

“If that’s how you want to do this then…I’ll amuse you. Follow me, troubled one.”

Dainsleif’s fists close at the nickname.

He’s brought to a room that you once showed him the previous time that he was here. You never explained what exactly this room was for as he left just before you got to.

There’s a small fountain, clear and blue flowing through it.

“This is a small tradition we have. It’s based on one of the writings that…you haven’t read, but that’s alright. It’s not that difficult to follow.” You start to explain.

“It’s a symbol of starting anew, to wash yourself of the regrets you have.” 

“And if I do not have any?” He questions.

“You do. Everyone does, even Gods.”

“You think gods regret the things they’ve done.” His patience is thinning inch by inch. He almost laughs at the ridiculousness of that sentence.

“That I do. According to one of the passages that—”

“How exactly do I know whether what you’re saying is genuine or just out of a damn book?” He interrupts.

You stare at him with a disapproving look. “You’re deflecting.”

“Excuse me?” 

“What is it that troubles you?”

Nothing. He’s fine. He’s done with everything, there’s no use in pondering over what could’ve and should’ve been.

“Don’t act as if you’re superior to me.” He says, visibly upset.

“So much for becoming a believer.” 

That’s when the grin is swayed off your face in just a few seconds as Dainsleif pins you to the wall, your head slightly tilted up as he grips tightly on your collar.

“Who sent you?” His enchanting eyes cross yours, not even a shade of fear in them.

“What exactly have you gone through that you think everything is out to get you?”

He stills at that. You’re not trying to push him off.

Instead, you’re conversing with him like he’s a lost lamb who’s unsure of where to go. An amenable priest who listens and asks.

He lets go. Your robe is now crinkled, and the mark of his fist is clearly evident.

You sit on the bench near the fountain, patting the empty space right next to it. Dainsleif refuses the offer, choosing to continue standing while he searches for the next words he’d like to say.

You smile.

“You don’t have to apologize or continue this. It doesn’t mean anything anyways if you don’t take it to heart.”

It’s such a strange sentence to hear from someone like you. You’re not..forcing him nor are you trying to sell him your ways by threatening him of what he may face if he doesn’t.

The Khaenri'ahn sighs, the words of apology already at the tip of his tongue.

“I’d prefer it if we were to continue.”

“You would?”

“I can still change my mind.” He jests, seeing you beam from ear to ear.

Dainsleif slowly walks towards the fountain, sitting beside you and laying his head down on your shoulder. The gesture is surprising to the priest but it isn’t turned away.

“I hope you’re quite ready, Father. This might take a while.” He says with his eyes closed.

“Confess your regrets, my troubled one.”

Eventually, it becomes a habit of his to visit you whenever he’s plagued with thoughts that make him anxious and question his choices.

And each time, you’re there to give advice. To lend a shoulder, and sometimes a little more than that.

He will never worship a god, but he’ll sure as hell worship you.

Dainsleif always waits patiently in the last row, watching you and listening to how your voice sounded rather than the message you’re conveying.

It’s soothing, in a way.

He doesn’t say a thing and only waits as you walk down the aisle with a smile.

It’s a silent exchange.

You place your hand on his shoulder and Dainsleif rubs the side of his chin on your hand, his eyes shut. 

“Dainsleif.”

“Yes, Father?” He teases, a smirk forming on his face before opening his eyes.

Your fingers lift his head slightly before bending down to reach his soft lips. He doesn’t pull away, he presses them further as if it’s his salvation. 

It’s somewhat sick that he’s found comfort in someone like you. He contemplates whether he’s walking the path of failure that the gods have planned, if this whole thing will eventually turn over just to punish him even more.

In the end, it’ll all be his fault. He’s the one who revealed secrets that you’ve never asked for.

“You’re making that face again, Dain.” You speak.

“What face?”

“The kind you make when you’re overthinking things. The one I want to get rid of.”

Dainsleif reaches for your hand, asking even if he knows the answer. “Pray tell, how exactly?”

“It makes me wonder if it’s a turn on of yours to get fucked in a place of worship.”

“Like how it’s a turn on for you when I’m on my knees and calling you Father?”

You laugh, caressing his hair as you look down on him.

“You don’t even worship the God of this place.” He looks so sweet like that, his head between your legs. Such beauty ready to kneel for you and do whatever if you ask him kindly.

“What’s the need when I already worship you?” Dainsleif says and takes you in.

Dainsleif never imagined he’d gladly be spending his time inside of a chapel, right in front of empty seats where anyone can walk in through those wooden doors, acting as if the altar is your hips.

And yet he’s letting you use his mouth eagerly, so used to how you taste that sometimes he himself craves for it when you two are separated.

“That’s right, love. Just think of me.” 

He groans as you push further into his throat, his eyes wandering to you despite his breathing getting obstructed.

He loves the things you do. Whether it be hearing you talk so dearly to him, tugging his hair with the right amount of pull, or the way you fill his mouth nicely like this.

It’s yours.

The sound that escapes his throat when your foot presses directly on his crotch is loud and lewd, echoing through the empty chapel.

His cheeks lightly flush, grumbling something incoherent.

“Speak clearly, my lamb.”

He rolls his eyes at the mischievousness of your voice. You know he can’t, and yet you’re still asking him to do so.

He follows still, of course.

“M-Mo—ah!” 

Dainsleif chokes as he tries to speak.

“Too much for you?”

He shakes his head and tries again.

“Mow—Moah-”

It’s not working. He’s stuffed full to even say it.

“Come on,” Your foot steps on his cock again. “There’s another way to plead. I’m sure a smart devotee of mine can figure that out.”

His chest heaves, trying to calm his breathing from the pressure and whining as it stops.

That’s when Dainsleif moves of his own accord, taking you even deeper than you already were. You can feel the vibrations from when he slowly pants, breathing through his nose more so he won’t pass out.

He bats his eyelashes at you, with a face full of sin.

Tears are starting to form in his eyes.

Please.

Dainsleif gags on your cock again, moaning impurely when your foot begins to knead more aggressively on his pants.

Your shoe adds even more stimulation and his cock aches wanting, no, begging for a release.

“Such a sinful body, no wonder the gods haven’t been blessing you.”

Fuck.

He continues to whimper, sucking your cock needily and knowing you’ll stop if he doesn’t do well.

“You get on your knees to be a slut, I wonder if they’ve bruised already.”

They do. They always do when you fuck his throat like this.

His mind is hazy and he’s close, he’s so—

“Hmgh!—”

“Not yet. Be patient.”

His body wants to buck down when you remove the pressure just seconds before he cums, but your hold on his head keeps him from doing that and he’s left to whine painfully.

The tears in his eyes finally fall and he stares up at you to be merciful, to let him have this one since it’s been a month of waiting to finally have you get him off like this.

“You want it?”

He nods and whines, begging for you to hear him out.

“Alright.”

When he gets permission, he sobs out on your cock, cumming inside in his own pants and soiling the floor. You feel how warm his breath is, his body is tired and trembling, but he keeps trying to make you finish as if it’s the only thing he’s made for. Even if he’s barely doing it well, too drunk with his tongue tired already.

The sight of that is enough to get you off.

Dainsleif tries to swallow but he doesn’t do it fully, cum dripping down his chin and coughing on the amount he can’t.

He finds it a waste that he isn’t able to. He stares, wondering if he should clean it up.

“Dain, it’s fine. You did amazing.”

His heart softens.

“Let me help you out, love.”

His head rests on your lap, your fingers playing with his hair. A tradition that you two somehow have ended up doing each time you finish.

He thinks it’s sweet and funny that you act so soft despite the things you say when having sex.

“Tell me.” You say.

“Tell you what?”

“What’s bothering you?” You question.

Dainsleif only snickers at that.

It’s you, Father.

[ma1dita]

to catch a thief

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty

(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)

—

When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind. This was your reality. 

You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred. 

This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet. 

Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship. 

Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.

Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.

Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to? Hilarious, really.

But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm. 

At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.

The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs. 

“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”

You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”

Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.

“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.

“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”

“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.

“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”

There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.

“Seriously dude?”

“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.

You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.

Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure. 

Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.

But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.

The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.

Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.

—

“Status report, soldier?”

Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.

“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”

“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.

“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”

Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.

“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.

“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”

He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely. 

It’s been a long year without you.

You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.

“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.

“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”

His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?

Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.

“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”

“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.

“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”

His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress. To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”

He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”

That was not the right thing to say.

“I’ll fucking kill yo—”

“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds. 

“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?”

“Girlfriend…”

The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.

“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”

You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.

“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”

“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”

“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, trouble…”

Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.

“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.

Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.

“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, trouble.”

“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.

“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same. 

“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.

“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”

A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.

—

Licking your lips as your…Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.

For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.

The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.

But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too. 

The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.

Luke was right, then.

You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.

You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.

“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”

The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.

You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his. 

“Get them.” 

The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.

Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.

Your fates have always been tied. 

You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart. 

It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it. You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.

Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away? 

It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda. 

But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.

The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin. 

For a moment, it feels like you. 

—

A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce. 

Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this. 

He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement. 

He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.

—

And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith

 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[ellieslaces]

FADE INTO YOU.

featuring: rookie!leon x fem stars agent!reader

synopsis: a collection of headcannons in which rookie cop leon has a crush on the reader, who’s a s.t.a.r.s agent

content warnings: harsh language; allusions to smut; make-out sessions; flirty reader; mostly wholesome content; canon divergent

notes: i was inspired by @darling-i-read-it when i saw the post abt Leon having a crush on a STARS agent and oml i haven’t stopped thinking about it so here i am yet again

now playing: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

• Leon had just started his position as a rookie cop at the Raccoon City PD and he’s always given the worst little tasks and assignments

• one day though - about four days into his first week - he passes the STARS office on his way with boxes to the storage room and almost drops them all

• he sees without a doubt the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in the STARS office, laughing at something the guy beside her said

• he has to pull himself together and take the boxes to storage room, his little heart hammering so fast the whole time

• Leon finally being introduced to you and the rest of the STARS team the next week when he’s instructed to take some paperwork to the STARS office

• he fell in love immediately when you walked to him, smiling widely, and taking the papers while introducing yourself

• he can hardly keep himself together as you walk him around the STARS office and introduce each agent to him

• he falls even harder when you scold each one, telling them all to be nice to him because he’s new

• after that, Leon always finds himself gravitating toward you any chance he gets — in the copy room, the kitchen, the shooting range

• you thinking he took a liking to you because you were one of the only ones who didn’t give him a hard time and to be honest, you didn’t really mind. he was sweet and totally lovable

• Leon honestly found it so insane how you were an absolute menace around the station

• like you would go around the office and flirt with a few officers to get them to do a task for you that you really didn’t want to do in the first place

• of course it always worked and they were all suckers for you

• and if he thought you were a menace on a daily bases, oh he was so surprised at how bold you were at holiday parties

• you would dance to the music in the most inappropriate ways possible for a work party

• and for some reason, it made him like you even more

• he also loved how you’d wear headphones with a walkman on your belt, and sing along, and dance to the music while you made copies or just walked around the station

• his crush on you was so bad, like next level bad

• in fact, you didn’t pick up on his crush on you at all. it was Jill who did. she never said a word of course, but she could just tell

• Leon always felt a little jealousy when he saw you talking to another agent, like Chris

• he knew you were out of his league, but he couldn’t help the hot jealousy in his chest as he would watch you laugh at something Chris said

• of course, he didn’t know that you’d rejected Chris when you first started working there and he asked you out a few times

• oh but Jill does. she loves to tease him for it, always reminding him of how you brutally shot him down

• and the teasing quickly becomes a problem when Leon walks by the STARS office one day and overhears Jill’s teasing

• of course, all Leon’s lovesick little brain processes are the words Chris, crush, and your name

• he doesn’t talk to you for two weeks. he ignores your jokes, your teases, your playful flirting (which he never ignores)

• until you finally get it out of him two weeks later in the shooting range

• he stammers and tells you he overheard Jill talking about you and Chris, and he likes you but it’s okay because he knows you don’t feel the same way, and you and Chris would be good together

• and you almost break then “oh, Leon, i don’t like Chris. Jill just likes to tease him because i rejected him when i started working here”

• Leon is obviously stunned “oh, uh, you don’t? sorry, i shouldn’t have said all that now i feel bad and -”

• “no, Leon. don’t feel bad. i actually kinda like you too you know…” you smiled sheepishly — which is pretty rare for you to be nervous

• Leon’s eyes widening to an unnatural size as he grins “you do? really? i didn’t think you’d like me i’m just a rookie.”

• “whether you’re a rookie or a trained professional, i like you. you’re really sweet and i know you’d treat me really well.”

• after that, you two start dating

• which is so fucking weird because a lot of the guys in the station — STARS and non-STARS — have been hitting on you and Jill since like the dawn of time

• it’s a little tense for Leon for a little while because a few other guys are even resentful you fell for a rookie and not them

• but of course Leon won’t say a word to them, so when he’s not around you put them in their place and tell them to leave him alone or you’ll fuck them up

• they are all obviously a little scared so they listen and start being nice - or as nice to a rookie as possible- to him again

• Leon always being so nervous and worrisome when you go in assignment

• seriously, he’ll worry himself to a point where he can’t sleep and he’ll nod off at his desk during the day

• when you finally get back, he always tells you how much he missed you and how worried he was and how he never wants you to leave him again

• but of course you always go on assignments. it’s a cruel cycle really

• you realize you were right — Leon did treat you so well. like a fucking princess honestly

• you believe you were so lucky that day when the lieutenant forced him to take paper work up to the STARS office

• Leon being literally the sweetest and best boyfriend you ever had and always making sure you’re okay and happy and safe

• but how could you not be happy? Leon is literally perfect to you and you couldn’t be happier with anyone else

how you can support Palestine! 🇵🇸

[turnyptown]

Celeb!Gojo x POC Reader

Satoru doesn't pay much attention to the things people say about him on social media. Not until they get his girlfriend involved.

a/n: celeb gojo prolly dont even manage his own account ughhh

(POC Reader!, suggestive dialogue, pet names {princess, love, babe, etc}, m4f)

You yawn, turning over to the empty spot beside you in the bed. Per usual, Satoru was making phone calls. He called his manager about his next events and interviews, simultaneously fighting allegations on twitter and instagram.

“Cancel the party for- What do you mean I’m trending? Excuse me?”

He frantically paced the halls, shouting yet still whispering so he wouldn’t wake his love. You heard the muffled rambling of his manager on the other line.

“It’s all about you and miss [F/N]. They have an image of you two entering coachella.” Satoru sighs at the clarification as he wraps up the conversation, eager to get back to you. He lets his head hang while his hands are on his hips. He couldn’t think of what to do.

It isn’t like he doesn’t want the world to know about you, he just doesn’t want you to receive any of the hate he gets on social media, especially by crazed fans who get upset at the thought of him with someone. You knew all this and still decided to fall in love with a celebrity.

I mean, who could blame you? He’s hot!

He paced more until he caught a glimpse of you sitting up from your shared bed. He stops abruptly and takes lazy steps towards you with a small frown.

“Morning, princess. Did y’sleep well?” He mumbles against your neck, peppering it with kisses and easing back into bed with you.

You rubs your eyes with a nod, leaning into his touch. His hands were soft, but cold against your skin. You yawn before stretching and putting your weight on him as you tilt against his chest.

“Ya haven’t slept that long since I fucked you to sleep-” His comment was cut off with a harsh smack in the face with his own pillow. “Ouch, babe. Love you, too.”

“Maybe don’t say things like that in my first ten minutes of consciousness.” You pout.

He gently tackles you to lie back down as he passes you your phone, watching you scroll on social media. You come across a fan edit of him before huffing and scrolling onto the next post.

Satoru reaches his hand out to scroll back up to the edit of himself. “What’s this? You make this or somethin’?”

You sigh before denying his inquiry, “No, Satoru, it’s an edit from one of your many fans.”

“Go to the comments, what are they saying?” He smiles, eager to receive the praise he gets on the daily from a bunch of strangers online.

You tap the comment section to open the pop-up and start to scroll through. He squints to read them and is taken aback by a few things.

“No lube, no… What the fuck? We aren’t stopping until- hold on, who is we?” Satoru gasps at the replies to a simple video of flashing lights and transitioning video clips of him. Is this really all it took to be talked about like a pornstar? He wasn’t sure how to feel.

A particular comment catches his eye.

‘guys chill yk he got a girl now’

‘when?!?! omg link??’

‘js search “satoru gojo girlfriend coachella” on youtube’

“Oh, way to keep a secret, Gojo is my idol underscore fifteen!” Satoru groans.

You continue scrolling through the replies which, to your surprise, are becoming less about your boyfriend and targeted towards you. And not in a good way.

Insult after slur and slur after insult, they were just going in on you.

‘that *** can khs, he dont deserve that thing’

‘Shes not even attractive bye’

You felt tears start to swell in your eyes, blinking them away as Satoru scanned the screen for some kind of joke. He frowned and stood up, dialing his manager again.

They exchange a few inaudible words from the other side of the bedroom door before he returns to your company and smiles widely.

“What’re you up to, Satoru?”

He doesn't reply, but instead sends you a tweet he made a moment ago.

He continues to grin as he sees your mood improve a bit, pulling you in closer. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jus’ mad cuz they probably don’t have the exotic gorgeousness you possess, baby.”

You smile but cringe a bit internally, “Never say exotic again.”

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Give Me What I Want ~Bratty!Bottom!Larissa Weems xFem Wife!Teacher!Reader

Summary— You won’t give into a bratty Larissa. No matter how much she persists…

Anon Request— Wanted to ask for two separate requests. One Morticia and one Larissa (two separate posts), but they’re both bottoms. Like really bratty bottoms. Thank you for taking the time to read this. You don’t have to do both you could just do one or the other or none. Sorry if that doesn’t make sense. But thank you I love your stuff!! Anon Response— Thank you for the request, anon!! Here’s the first one, a bratty Larissa. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!, heavily implied smut, used sex toy, implied masturbation, nudity, comforting, light physical touch, teasing, flustering, bratting, begging, implied begging kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

Larissa let out yet another loud and dramatic groan. She was sitting at her desk, working away, and you were sitting by the fire, reading.

Every few minutes, the woman would groan needily. And every time the groan got louder and more like a moan. A minute passed before she groaned again.

“Larissa May…” you hummed warily, not looking up from your book.

You only used her full name in professional settings or when she was bratting and you needed her attention.

Larissa straightened up a bit at the sound of her given name.

“Yes Darling…?” Her sultry tone replied with a deceptive innocent cover over it.

“Do you need something…?” You hummed.

You knew she did. She needed sex. Or to masturbate. But she wasn’t allowed to. She had been teasing you and bratting all of yesterday and into today. She would not be rewarded for that kind of behavior, not on your watch.

Larissa groaned again in response, slouching and leaning back in her seat.

“Use your words…” you hummed across the room.

Larissa grumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out. You finally put the book down and came over to her desk, standing on the opposite side and placing your hands down on the desk.

Larissa looked at you from her slouched position.

“Touch me, Darling…?” She whined.

You shook your head.

“Nuh uh, you haven’t earned that.”

Larissa replied in a groan, then standing up.

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself…!” She huffed, making a dramatic attempt to run off to her attached private quarters in her office. You swiftly moved in front of the door, blocking her from access to her bedroom.

“Nope.” You crossed your arms in an attempt to show your unwavering mind.

“You are mean…, so mean… you know that right?” Larissa huffed, going back to her desk to sit back down with another groan.

“Then you should have been good.” You quipped with a shrug of your shoulders.

Larissa’s response was to stick her tongue out in you in a playful manner.

You had never seen this woman so bratty before…

“That,” you pointed at her scowling expression and out stuck tongue, “is not helping your case. Behave.”

You then turned around and went to sit back down on your chair by the fire. You picked up your book and continued to read.

Time went by, and you went from reading back to grading , and while Larissa had stopped groaning so dramatically, she was now whimpering and every time you looked your way, she gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes.

And she also got distracted more and more from her work. You caught her giggling as she looks at her phone screen from time to time. You knew she was probably texting with Marilyn, comparing to her about how unfairly you were treating her.

But you just continued to ignore her tactics. A couple hours, you and Larissa decided to call it a night, both retreating into your shared private quarters for the night. Larissa looked at you hopefully as the two of you got into bed. But you simply gave her a kiss good night, wished her sweet dreams, and then turned to the other side facing away from her.

The next morning, Larissa was just as fired up and determined to get her fix from you. Her hands along your figure were wandering all morning, teasing you endlessly. She joined you in the shower too, beginning to kiss your exposed collar bone, but you swiftly turned around and put Larissa back in her place.

You both arrived at the staff room early that morning, Larissa reorganizing the room from the last days and you making the morning coffee for all your colleagues. That’s when Marilyn walked in, holding her morning cup of tea.

“Morning, you two…” she hummed suggestively, taking a sip of her tea afterwards.

“Morning…” Larissa grumbled.

“Morning!” You chirped.

Marilyn eyed the two of you.

“I see that Larissa hasn’t gotten what she wants?”

You chuckled and hummed with a nod, to which Larissa scoffed.

“She is being ridiculous.” Larissa huffed, obviously that being a no to Marilyn’s question.

Marilyn laughed dryly a little, smiling in amusement at the interaction between the two of you.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I am sorry, Larissa…” Marilyn spoke to Larissa, then turning to you and whispering, “Don’t give in”

She gave you a not so well hidden thumbs up with the hand closer to you, but Larissa immediately caught Marilyn’s whispering and hand motion.

“Hey!! Mar, I thought you were on my side??” Larissa whined.

“Jesus, it is bad.” Marilyn chuckled, taking another sip from her mug, glancing at Larissa and then towards you in sympathy.

“You both are mean…!” Larissa scoffed, leaving the staff room in a huff.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, as you watched Larissa storm off. Marilyn gave you a sympathetic smile and walked out, most likely back to her greenhouse to prepare for her first class.

The day went by, and you didn’t hear much of anything from Larissa. This made you suspicious. So during lunch, you made your way to your shared private quarters to find the woman.

But you didn’t find her in the bedroom, instead you found an obviously used vibrating dildo placed right at the center end of your bed, still coated in lube and what you knew what your wife’s juices. You then heard the shower start, and you immediately went to the bathroom, only to find a nude Larissa in the shower.

You gasped lightly, giving you away, and making the talk blonde turn around and give you the most mischievous grin.

“Hello Darling… How was your day…?” She cooed mischievously.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You know that you are digging yourself a deeper hole, right?”

Larissa bit her lips and shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she suggestively cooed, “My day was amazing, thank you for asking.”

You took a deep breath, and left without another word. You went back into the bedroom, grabbing the used sex toy, and returning to the bathroom.

“Clean this.” You said while placing the toy on the bathroom counter.

Then you actually left, needing to get the woman out of your mind. She had successfully started to get under your skin, and you needed to take a breather. You went back to your classroom for the rest of your classes and grading.

It was late evening, you had finished your grading for the day and you were tired. So you finally made your way back to Larissa. You entered her office without knocking. As soon as you entered, Larissa stopped all that she was doing.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Darling” the blonde exclaimed, standing up and coming over to meet you in the middle of the room.

She went to embrace you, and you allowed it. At least for a a couple seconds, before backing up out of the embrace.

“I… I made it worse…” Larissa confessed, looking down at the ground and biting her lip.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, bringing your hands to the woman’s shoulders. Larissa hummed in delight at the touch you were giving her.

“Should have listened to me…” you teasingly cooed.

Larissa went red.

“Shut up…” she muttered.

You grabbed her chin, swiveling her gaze to your eye level.

“What do you want, hmmm…?”

“You. Need you…” She whispered.

You smirked, dropping all touch from Larissa, making her whine.

“Then beg.”

Larissa’s mouth nearly dropped and her eye widened.

“I—No.” she scoffed.

“Oh well, then I can’t help you…” you said with a shrug, starting to walk to the door to your bedroom.

But Larissa grabbed your wrist, turning you back to her after a couple of steps.

“Wait…!”

You tuned around, looking at the woman with a smirk.

“Yes…?” You purred.

Larissa took a heavy breath, then she marched to the bedroom, pulling you by your wrist. You allowed it mainly because you thought she was about to break. She closed the door behind you, then she asked you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Larissa now stood in front of you, shuffling your feet.

“Please…” she whispered.

“What…?” You teasingly cooed, “I can’t hear you, ‘Rissa…”

“Please Darling… please fuck me…” she breathed out, her eyes screen shut and her fists clenched.

“Mhmmmm…” you hummed, not quite satisfied, “Kneel. And say it with your eyes open.”

Larissa’s breath hitched and she gritted her teeth. She wanted it so bad… bad enough to beg…?

Apparently so, as Larissa dropped to her knees after a minute, and looked up at you with open eyes.

“Please fuck me, Y/N, I need you… Only you can satiate my needs… please Darling… I’m desperate…!”

You smirked and cupped the woman’s chin. Larissa hummed, closing her eyes and happily leaning into the little touch you gave.

“You look so good when you beg, ‘Ris…” you cooed.

You retracted all touch once more.

“But you haven’t apologized for what you’ve done these last few days…”

Larissa’s eyes widened again and she gulped. Her eyes glinted in that mischievous nature once more.

“I—I’m not sorry for that.” Larissa suddenly quipped.

You sighed, getting off the bed.

“Then I can’t help you…” you sighed lightly, leaving Larissa kneeling in front of the bed with an open mouth.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[southparkxreader]

pairings:  post covid ! kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh x reader. trigger warnings : age gaps . reader is in her middle twenties , everyone else is forty nine . specific uses of she/her pronouns ,  uses of y/n + l/n ( get that interactive fic extension loaded , lads  ) .  disclaimer : i haven’t written anything like this in a long time .  only interact with this post if you are 18 or above , minors are not welcomed on my blog . small intro of a future series im going to start in a fic form , putting this out there to see if anyone is interested and to get a taste for how alive the fandom is .

stay with me ... fanfic series being kenny’s assistant.

kenny has a nasty habit of losing track - it can range from his paper work , to notes when he’s going on one of his tangents and just needing to let it all out before it fleets from mind, to as simple as forgetting what day of the week it is : forgetting dates, scheduled events, that sort of thing. he really cannot coordinate his own life if it meant saving it, he’s just got too much going on, ten fold when it comes to his work -

it was kyle’s idea, actually - listening to kenny apologize yet again for forgetting one of the days they were supposed to meet up on. he sighs, exasperated, annoyed, any rational person would be when plans kept going haywire because someone couldn’t even bother to turn up “have you thought about a personal assistant ?” leaning on his kitchen counter, watching the new snow fall as he leaned into the phone “it’ll help. if it doesn’t, i’m just going to stop making plans with you.”

is he being serious ? no, but still - he’s on thin ice.

kenny starts interviewing a week later, because it really isn’t a bad idea - he’s ashamed that he never thought of it sooner. the applications come flooding through, who wouldn’t want a front row seat to a genius like him ? the things they’d get to witness first hand, new discoveries, seeing his mind in person and with a front row seat. it was too good to be true, nobody in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to put their application through.

after about a dozen interviews, he’s just about ready to give up.

then,,,, you come in - it was like he took a shot of vodka with how you snapped him awake - his eyes trail over you for a moment, he could see straight away how nervous you were - despite how much you were trying to hide it. cheeks were clearly flushed, fidgeting with your fingers before you held out a hand towards the man, smile shaky but bright as you did your best to put on a brave face, a little tremble in your hand as anxiety shot through you didn’t go missed, either  “its a pleasure to meet you, mr mccormick, truly, it’s an honour. ” 

well, right then and there, kenny thought you were just the sweetest little thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. he had his mind made up before your hands locked together, his large palm swallowing yours so easily as he sent you a dazzling smile, if any of his friends were in the room they’d make faces, sending him an accusing glare , they know the look too well and it’s anything but innocent “it’s a pleasure meet you too, mrs. l/n. you flatter me too much, please, sit - let’s begin, it says here that you - “

he has to at least pretend to be professional.

you got the phone call later that night with confirmation that you got the job.  did you dance around your apartment, scream the minute the phone call ended ? absolutely you did. now you have a chance to actually enjoy work, to do something with your life rather than dragging yourself through it, to work along side the brightest mind of their generation.

he called kyle up the minute things were confirmed. telling him it was the best and only good idea he'll ever have again. to which he responds with a "fuck you... wait, what are you talking about ... why do you sound like that?" kyle knows, he knows kenny too well not to know.

when stan, kyle and kenny next have a meet up, it’s an annoying shocked and open surprise that kenny graced them with his presence, for having the ability to turn up on time. after a lot of shit talking, kenny finally falls into speaking about you, a little too much, stan and kyle have no choice but to want to meet you.  

when they do ... ?

oh... oh they get it . 

[edwardbabygirlteach]

Okay so I wanna share my thoughts on this scene cause I’ve seen lots of posts about it but I haven’t seen any that really match the thoughts I’ve had about it. (If anyone’s posted similar please let me know, and I’m so sorry I haven’t seen it 🥺)

So the first thing we see is a very concerned looking Stede. He’s clearly afraid that Ed is not going to be okay after whatever has happened to him. We can see pretty clearly Ed has taken some decent physical damage after fighting or possibly after being thrown off the ship in the storm we don’t know just yet, but I feel like he’s definitely clearly hurt. My assumption is he had passed out from said injury or had been knocked unconscious and Stede was very worried about this.

I say passed out because we clearly see Ed wake up in a moment of adrenaline and panic. Hence the reason he immediately headbutts Stede. His body is still in fight mode so his fight or flight response was to attack the person who for all he knew was trying to hurt him further.

We see pretty quickly that he relaxes after a few seconds and lays back against the bed Stede’s possibly laid him on. Presumably after he’s able to process that it’s Stede who is leaning over him and he’s not in any immediate danger anymore.

Now! For the hand! I think personally Stede is applying pressure to a wound of some kind. Gun or blade I couldn’t say but what I’m thinking (hoping) is that the rest of this scene is Stede gently helping Ed from his jacket and lifting his shirt to attend to the wound.

Much in the same way I think Ed did for Stede early on in season one when he’d been stabbed. I know we never see Ed attend to Stede’s wounds physically but I think is kind of unspoken in the way Ed watches over him and cares for him until he’s better. I mean Ed even asks Lucius to bring them a wet cloth. You know that Ed sat at Stede’s bedside and used the damp cloth to clean the sweat from his forehead, that he used it to try and keep any semblance of a fever down. He hardly moved from Stede’s side until he was awake and able.

So I don’t think it’s a leap to say Stede is going to do the same even if Ed protests saying he doesn’t need Stede’s help or how he’s fine without him, has been…is….has to be…right?

I feel like this scene could really pose as a turning moment in them reconnecting and coming back together, a small bridge to rebuilding Ed’s trust in Stede.

I think, Ed is gonna be situationally forced by his injuries to accept help and care from Stede.

[grottylittlefox]

How could I ever forget you?

Sebastian Sallow/Professor Sallow x f!MC / reader

Slow burn/fluff/angst, aged up characters 18-mid 20s 🌿

I haven’t written or posted fics since I was a teenager so I’m v excited to be writing/posting this for u!!

//: Somehow it had taken until your final day at Hogwarts to finally show Sebastian how you felt, and by then it was too late. Years pass and your distance grows stronger, despite your many efforts for him. A surprise encounter at a new job could change things forever. Finding each other once again at the very place you first met, Hogwarts.

Chapter 1: “I guess this is it”

Chapter 2: “Oh how I missed you”

Chapter 3: “Goodbye, Sebastian”

Chapter 1:

A blushing pink sunset fell upon the castle, it was your final night at Hogwarts. Although only having been a student for 3 years, it truly did feel like home, and saying goodbye would not be easy an easy task. Especially saying goodbye to a certain Slytherin student, who was sat beside you on the grass, looking out upon the glorious hillsides that surrounded the school. His head resting upon yours in a subtle embrace.

“I think I’ll miss this the most,” he muttered quietly, with such warmth you could have melted away.

“Alright, don’t get too soppy on me, Sallow,” you teased back at him in an attempt to ease the tension. After all, playfulness was your love language, and you were undoubtedly finding the emotion of leaving him extremely hard to face.

“You know you can’t survive without me,” he said with a smirk. You gasped at the sheer audacity of his comment.

“We’ll see about that,” you replied, oozing with sarcasm. But you knew it was true, you couldn’t. He was practically the reason you got up every morning, aside from the risk of detention, which he seemed to get you into anyway. The both of you spent a moment in comfortable silence, reminiscing on your time here at school. Truthfully, he couldn’t survive without you either. His life had turned upside down the moment you stepped foot in the great hall. In Sebastian’s mind, from that moment onwards, you were his. The two of you were inseparable, best friends, yet always edging the line of something more. That reality always felt so close, yet so out of reach.

“I, um, have something for you,” he turned to you, once again radiating that same warmth he did just moments ago.

“Oh?” You gazed up to him, meeting his eyes. Oh how you’d miss those perfect brown eyes, and the freckles that resided around them.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver ring. The band looked like it was formed from tiny vines and leaves, as if crafted by fairies.

A sudden panic came over you. He’s not proposing is he? I haven’t even told him how I feel, that couldn’t be possible, right? Why would that even be possible?!

“Sebastian… this is all happening so soon!” You playfully gushed, as a last attempt to save yourself from embarrassment.

“Don’t be daft, I’m not proposing,” he chuckled as he reached back into his pocket. As much as you felt relieved, you kind of wished he was.

“Not that you wouldn’t love that,” he winked. You shook your head and stared him down, holding back a smile. If only he knew.

From his pocket he pulled a delicate silver chain. You watched his hands as he so carefully looped it through the ring, creating a beautiful necklace that he let hang from his finger tips.

“I was looking through the undercroft, I suppose to… say goodbye, and I found this ring in one of the chests. I was hoping you could have it, as something to remember me by.”

Sebastian leaned towards you holding the necklace at each end, and gently fastened it at the back of your neck. His scent loomed over you, the heat of his body met yours. You felt yourself take in every millisecond of his closeness, gripping at each moment before he slips away.

“How could I ever forget you?” You said softly through a smile. Your eyes were beginning to get heavy as tears blurred your vision. It took everything in you to hold them back, you couldn’t let him see you like that, you were just not ready to be vulnerable.

Regret was becoming you. This was all you had left. Your time together was running shorter by the second. Memories of your adventures together flooded your mind, all the missed opportunities to tell him how you felt, all the times you held back. And now here you were, closer than ever, but far too late.

A single tear fell from your aching eyes, but before it had even reached your cheek, a gentle touch had wiped it away. The same hand softly stroked the back of your head with such care and delicacy. Sebastian leaned in, and planted the most gentle of kisses upon your forehead, and held it there for a few moments. You had always imagined that his affection would make you burst with excitement, but this… this was different. This was calm, this was right. This was home. This was where you belonged, and you both knew it.

He pulled away and looked back onto the view, taking it in for the last time.

“Try not to be too sad. I mean, an apprenticeship at the Ministry? That’s exciting, right?!”

“Yeah.. I really do owe it to Professor Weasley for writing me that reference, I’m surprised she even wrote it after all the trouble you got me into these few years,” you replied.

“Hey, don’t go blaming me for your own antics, you bad girl!” He teased. Why must he do this to you?

“And what about you, Quidditch champion? Hm?” You teased right back. “I never thought I’d see the day you opted for a career in sport.”

“Neither did I,” Sebastian sighed. Imelda Reyes had practically begged him to join the team after Professor Black brought back the game. Sebastian made a fine Chaser, as much as it pained him to admit it.

“We should probably be getting back,” you suggested, as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

“Right, Ominis is probably wondering where I’ve gone off too,” he stood up and reached to your hand, pulling you off the ground. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your common room, one last time,” he said with a smile, not letting go the whole way back.

~~~

The next day you stood at Hogsmeade station, for what may be the last time. You didn’t want to go, the idea of adulthood was terrifying. Pacing up and down the platform, you waited for that one person you wished you’d never have to say goodbye to. Students dashed past you in an aim to get the best seat for the long journey home, but that was the least of your worries. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and gave you a tight squeeze, it was Poppy.

“Just in case I don’t get another chance to say goodbye,” she said with her usual beaming sweetness. This was her fourth goodbye of the day. She had grabbed you twice in the common room and once again at breakfast.

“Oh Poppy!” You turned to her, pulling her in for yet another hug. “You know I’ll write, every day!”

“There’s my favourite Hufflepuff,” an all too familiar voice appeared before you. Your eyes gazed up over Poppy’s shoulder. It was him.

Poppy swiftly pulled away, raising her eyebrows. She knew he certainly wasn’t talking about her.

“Goodbye Sebastian!” She said running at him with a hug. He was certainly taken aback by this, the look on his face was priceless.

“Uh, thank you poppy. Good luck, and everything,” he awkwardly patted her head giving you an uncomfortable smile. It seemed that Sebastian didn’t take well to anybodies physical affection, apart from yours of course.

Poppy gave you both a smile and a wave before disappearing into the crowd. Sebastian approached you, he looked so good. Too good. Was this to be some torturous goodbye? The wind caught his brown locks perfectly, and the sun kissed his skin letting his freckles beam at you. The green jumper he was wearing hugged his perfect physique. And yet for some reason, during the height of summer, he wore the same Slytherin house scarf he had every year you’d known him.

“I guess this is it,” he spoke so softly, removing the scarf and placing it around the back of your neck. He held both ends and tugged you closer to him, until your foreheads touched. You looked at each other, for what felt like forever and nothing all at once. The chaos around you faded away, nobody else in the entire world existed but you. Painful, peaceful bliss.

“I don’t want to go-“ your voice cracked. It was unlike the both of you to let your guard down like this, but it felt so dire, so desperate. There was nothing else. Gently, your eyes fluttered shut. He was so close. His warm breath flushed your cheeks as the tip of his nose gently nudged yours. Was this how it was meant to feel? So heavy, so… hopeless. Like you are gasping for your last breath, with the lingering knowledge that within moments.. he will be gone. Anticipation for his lips to meet yours grew closer. A soft touch soothed you as his hands cupped the edge of your jaw. Closer..

“Get a bloody room you two!” Snapped you back into reality in an instant. You felt Sebastian pull away, before slowly opening your eyes to see him facing Ominis. “A little help would be appreciated,” he gestured towards his bags on the ground beside him. You couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to notice the two of you, he couldn’t see you after all. But then it occurred to you, he’d been standing there the whole time. Perhaps you weren’t so subtle after all.

Sebastian helped lift yours and Ominis’ bags onto the train, and he looked so good doing it. After slamming down the final bag in the doorway, he wiped the sweat away from his forehead and took a breath. Ominis had already said his goodbyes, and left to find you both a seat, leaving you and Sebastian alone again for a brief final moment. By now the platform was practically empty, aside from a few onlookers to wave you all off. You stood in the doorway of the Hogwarts Express, towering over Sebastian who looked up at you from the platform edge. A loud whistle pierced your ears as the conductor waved, signalling the trains departure. Without a second thought you grabbed each other. It was instant. Your arms so tightly wrapped around his shoulders, and his gripping your waist. With a final squeeze you pulled each other closer, but you needed more. More time. More Sebastian. The conductor approached, breaking your grasp. He closed the door in front of you, and you peeked your head out of the window. Looking down at Sebastian as if he was your Romeo, with the scarf he had left around your neck floating in the wind. His fingers clasped the edge of the window pane, pulling himself up to your level, barely balancing himself on the edge of the train.

“I think you owe me a kiss,” he smirked, leaning in towards you. You collided, your lips meeting in perfect harmony. This was it. This was excitement. This was everything it was meant to be. This, was perfect.

Another whistle interrupted your euphoria. Sebastian stepped back onto the platform, a smug smile plastered across his face. The train slowly began to move, pulling you away from him with every second that passed. You leaned out of the window, and waved, as the glee you once felt was being dragged down by dread. The further you travelled, the murkier it became. He was disappearing into the distance, just as you feared he may disappear from your life. The smoke from the train began to fog your view, only making it harder to hold on to him. Soon enough you could barely see the smile on his beautiful face, and then even his face at all.

And with one final wave, just like that, he was gone.

Chapter 2

[atzfilm]

clair de lune. (m) - part one

genre; yandere, vampire!au, reincarnation! au angst, smut

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count: 20k

warnings; manipulation, explicit scenes, murder, blood, smut, more to be added

summary; you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?

note: this first deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read. 

part two

content; manipulation, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, age gap, murder, blood, injuries, dark subjects, weapons, emotional manipulation, panic attack, blood, murdering/referenced murder, a bit graphic with description of splinters, cursing, smut: threesome (fingering, oral sex (f.receiving))

part one: 

Clair de Lune.

It’s a sign you see often whenever you pass by. Simultaneously enticing and irrevocably menacing. Rumored to have strange incidents happen day to day. Most unable to describe it once it happened, but never to enter again. You've never had the desire to step foot inside, the hearsay only persuading you that it isn’t your scene. You’d rather keep your memories of a night with you. Still weary that no local law enforcement looked into the incidents. It seems as if they govern themselves. 

And yet, here you are. Staring at the outside of the building. Fingers picking at your skin, biting your lip. You weren’t sure what to wear, sticking to tight clothing and shoes that wouldn’t make you stand out too much. Not that you would. Most eyes would be on the stage, staring at the band Hiraeth. They’re quite famous; playing local gigs in your area for a couple of years now. You haven’t heard much from them, they don’t even have their music on any platform, only recordings some lucky people take and post online.

“Name?” The bouncer asks, earpiece in one ear and staring at you. He looks a bit irritated, a frown gracing his lips. You’d think he’d be more friendly to paying customers.

“yn,” you say, a bit loudly to speak over the stereos. He doesn’t even glance down at the list, nodding. 

“Doesn’t look like your scene, love,” the scowl forms a soft smirk, brow raised. He’s handsome, silver hair pulled back to show his forehead, piercings covering his eyebrow, ears, nose, lip. You stare at the lip one a bit too long, his tongue rolling over it. “Hm?” 

“It’s not, my friend invited me. Just visiting.”

“Ah, then I can understand why you’re dressed like that,” he glances down.

“You don’t need to be an asshole,” you shot back, frowning. He blinks in shock for a moment, before laughing.

“I love a feisty one. Go on ahead, your friend should be next to the stage. Just make sure the singer doesn’t pay attention to you. Could get yourself in trouble, love.”

Before you can insult him further (and question how exactly he knows her), you’re pushed through the doors. The hallway is dark, lined up with people. Some smoke, blowing the mist in your direction. Others look at you quizzingly, before glancing away. A lot of red eye contacts, a lot of metal protruding from their skin. Some in places you didn’t even know you could pierce. You quickly make your way down the stairs, the room already crowded.

You spot your friend, her eyes on the instruments on stage. Pushing through and saying excuse me several times, you finally make it over to her. She glances back at you and pulls you into a hug.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it!” She yells, trying to make her voice audible over the music. “You know they’re going to start any second now!”

“Traffic,” you shrug. Traffic, your ass. The only thing you did was stare at the clock ticking, hoping that the day would suddenly zoom forward and you wouldn’t have to go. But you couldn’t do that to her. 

Clair de Lune is one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. Rarely does someone score tickets, let alone within a week of inquiring about them. You’re not even sure how your friend got them. A part of you suspects that she did it under nefarious means, especially with the way she grinned at you when she shoved the flier into your chest while you were studying. You could only roll your eyes and sigh, knowing that you couldn’t back out.

She pulls you closer, jumping with glee. “Don’t look so scared! It’s just a couple of songs and then we’re gone!”

You roll your eyes, her excitement rolling off on you. The apprehension that you have slowly dissipates into only a small worry, listening as the music drops. Only a couple of songs, you think. A couple of songs and you can leave. 

The lights flicker off. You hear the slow rise of the bass guitar thumping, echoing around the small room. The crowd is hushed, too focused on the sounds. Your chest fills with an overwhelming feeling, your eyes closing as you listen to the weightless sound. A crawling feeling tickles your skin, and you open your lids, glancing around the room. 

They land on a man just by the stage. He's tall, the red pigment of his hair seen even in the very low light. He looks serious, lips in a straight line, arms resting against his chest. But that's the least part of your worries. His eyes are focused on you. You don't dare blink, a part of you knowing that if you do, something bad may happen. The flick of his eyebrow makes you look away.

You look back to the stage, a smooth voice almost whispering. The crowd screams as the lights rise, showing the man holding the mic, a grin on his face as he sings his heart out. He's wearing all black, fishnet sleeves, a choker wrapped around his neck. His gaze moves around the crowd until it moves on you. You thought that he would look away but his dark eyes stay with yours, not a drop of sweat moving his bangs away from his face. What the hell is going on?

"Hwa likes you," your friend says into your ear. "He can't keep his eyes off of you!"

You roll your eyes, "He's not looking at me."

"He is!" She screams when he hits a higher note, pumping her fist into the air.

You look away, the poignant gaze of his almost too much to bear. The club suddenly feels too claustrophobic, the walls tight, bodies hitting yours as you feel the gaze of the lead singer on you. You eye the bathroom, and then the door. Only steps away.

A drum solo makes you stop. Your eyes move back to the stage. Ignoring the stare of the singer, focused on the man whose drumsticks fly through the air, foot tapping on the bass drum pedal, eyes closed completely as he plays. The crowd screams. But you can only stare. Watch as he expertly plays, lips curved into a smile. Blue hair pulled back with a headband. His eyelids open, immediately looking at you.

The crowd roars louder at his eyes opening, but you freeze. It has to be contacts, it has to be. The burgundy color keeps you in place. He tilts his head, observing you. A violin comes in, then a guitar. He hits against the crash cymbal and pulls you away from his mesmerizing gaze. You can see your friend looking at you with glee, screaming her head off. But something is definitely off. You can feel it dwelling in your bones. She moves away from you, speaking to a guy. You pull away, making your escape away from the stage. Unaware of the pairs of eyes watching you move across the floor. The lead singer and violinist make eye contact, nodding. 

“Hey, hey. What’s the rush?” A hand stops you as you make it to the front door. You look up, seeing the same bodyguard that you did next to the stage, a frown on his lips. “You can’t leave when they’re playing a set.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you read the rules? No one leaves until the set's over. Can’t let you walk out there, sorry.”

“You can’t hold me here against my will-”

“I can, since you signed that contract for the tickets,” He grins, no humor behind it. “Enjoy the show. It’ll probably be your last, anyway.” His eyes scan yours.

You move away from him, the queasy feeling in your chest rising slowly. Thankfully the crowd is all pressed against the stage, enough room for you to walk freely to the other side of the place, into the bathroom. You shut a stall behind you, throwing your back head against the wall. What kind of place doesn’t let you leave the premise until it’s complete? And why the hell would your friend not mention that small fact to you?

She knows you’re not used to these types of things, knows that you’re hesitant. And yet, bringing you here without disclosing something that big… The thought only makes your anxiety lift. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breath. If you don’t think about it, it’ll be better.  Maybe lessen your worry enough that you can indulge in the music until you leave. Next time, you’d never agree to go to a place without knowing all the details. You kick the door open, splashing your face with water before walking back out.

The sweet tone of the singer makes you look back at the stage, enticing you. Willing you to move closer. He sings softly into the mic, different from the one from before. You quickly recognize the bass player, both of his hands wrapped around the mic, singing softly. The crowd holds lighters in the air, singing along.

You lean against the pillar behind you, soothed by his singing. You’re surprised they don’t have their music everywhere - they would be famous instantly, especially with the way they play, the way they can control the crowd. Even if their skills were subpar (which isn’t even the slightest truth), they would become world renowned by their charisma alone. And they aren’t bad to look at either. You frown. 

Men. 

“You look upset.”

You jump, turning to your side. A man stands there, concerned. He gestures to the stage, arms crossed against his chest. He looks like he fits into the crowd- pants a little too low, colorful tattoos decorating his skin, hiding beneath his black tee. He glances at you.

“You look like a miserable human,” he comments. “Didn’t think I’d see such a sad expression at a punk rock concert.”

What an asshole. “Thanks for the compliment,” you grumble, and he only shrugs.

“Just calling it as I see it. Do you not like the band? Not your type?”

“I don’t have a type of music, just like whatever sounds good. And they do sound pretty good. Nice to listen to. Maybe a little loud, but that’s okay.”

He laughs at that, “Loud? Oh, baby, you haven’t seen loud.”

There’s a lull in the music. He winks at you, before jogging to the front. You almost open your mouth to warn him of the thick crowd, but they immediately part for him. He climbs onto the stage, grabbing the lone guitar sitting on the stand. He throws the strap over his shoulder, fingers dragging along the strings, singing a high note into the song, blending with the others easily.

Your heart plummets.

Did you just call their music okay? Speaking to one of the members? You glance at the door, the guard already looking in your direction. Excellent. Stuck in a place you don’t want to be. You place your gaze back to the stage, the guitarist you just spoke to glancing in your direction. Your eyes move to the way his fingers glide along the strings, hitting each note with precision. You were never interested in fingers.

Until now.

The songs eventually ended. Crowd high off the energy they brought to the stage. You walk through the meandering people, trying to find your friend. Everyone is in pairs or threes, speaking about the music. Not leaving. You reach for your phone in your back pocket, patting on empty fabric.

“Shit,” you look back, hands running along every crevice, trying to find it. You’re sure you were just looking at it, checking the time. But now it’s just gone. “What the hell?” 

“You alright?” You turn around, seeing concerned eyes look into yours. It’s the guy that was just on the keyboard on stage, tilting his head down to look at you. They’re a dark red, flicking between yours. He’s not dressed like the others, all black yes, but no piercings. Not even a tattoo. Almost an outlier in the room. “Lost something?”

“My phone,” you say softly. The music is so loud, you’re sure he can’t even hear what you’re saying. But he only smiles, shaking his head.

“Probably in the back. The doors locked so no one ran off with it, probably with the hundreds of others. I can show you,” he flicks his head, pointing to a dark, velvety curtain. You hesitate.

Going into a strange place without telling your friend, with someone you don’t even know. The things you’ve heard and haven’t heard about this place ring through your head as you stare at him. He seems innocent enough, especially compared to the others you saw on stage. And there are people still walking around. Against your better judgment, you nod. He holds out his hand, and you take it, letting him guide you to the back.

His skin is cold to the touch, goosebumps raising on your arms. He pushes back the curtain, revealing a black door with foggy windows. There’s no room for regret to rise in your mind, his quick movements distracting you. He opens the door, letting you enter first. You thank him, stepping inside.

The room is covered with the same material as the curtains, draped against the wall. Leather seats line the walls, a glass table sitting in the middle. You spot five men walking around, grabbing food, stretching their arms. Band members that just performed on stage. The lead singer that was staring at you earlier doesn’t look in your direction, but the drummer does.

He widens his eyes, confused. “Hm? Brought a woman with you, Yunho? Never thought that would happen in this lifetime.” He leans back in his chair, staring at you. You look away from his gaze, trying to find a pile of hundreds of phones that Yunho promised.

The man behind you chuckles, shutting the door. “Ha ha, so funny. Almost laughed for real that time.”

“You know we don’t allow groupies back here,” The bassist frowns, blond highlights better seen in the light. It isn’t extremely bright in the room, but enough for you to spot some features of their faces. “Oh, I know you.”

“I don’t know you,” you respond. 

He huffs, adjusting his long sleeves. “Cute.”

You glance back at Yunho. “You said there are hundreds of phones you guys find?”

He nods, “Yea. Just take a seat by Woo, I’ll get the bucket we used tonight from Mingi.” He disappears through another door, leaving you alone with the rest. 

Perfect. 

“Ah, you’re the one who called our music okay,” the bassist from before smiles at you, laughing. “I couldn’t believe it. I’m Woo, by the way. Short for Wooyoung. You can sit next to me. I won’t bite.” He pats the sofa. 

Either you’re completely insane, or testing your luck. You take the seat without thinking too much about it, saying nothing in response. Wooyoung pouts, taking in your expression. “You look annoyed.”

“Pretty sure my friend disappeared into the void that is this place, and now I’m stuck in a room with people I don’t know because I lost my phone. Not my best night.” You shrug, staring at the table. Wine glasses line it, filled with a deep red liquid. You would have assumed its wine until the lead singer reaches over and takes a sip. It’s a bit thick, lining his upper lip. He lets his tongue drag along it, meeting your gaze. You look away. 

“Silly,” his voice is deep, balancing the glass between his fingers. “Humans are attached to their phones. A rarity that one of them misplaces it.”

“Well you’re looking at the one in a million,” you point to yourself, giving him a closed-lip smile. He hums, saying nothing else. Where’s Yunho and that bucket?

You don’t notice Wooyoung slowly closing the distance between the both of you until his thigh touches yours as he stretches himself out, one arm resting on the chair behind your head. He smells like expensive cologne, not one whiff of sweat from their hour performance. You’d think you’d feel more uncomfortable with the closeness. But you’re somehow calm, your heartbeat steady.

You’re not sure if that comforts you or worries you.

“So you came to our show without knowing anything about us? Our tickets are hard to get.” The drummer catches your attention. “You don’t know any of our names?” He twirls his sticks between his fingers, the other hand tapping lightly on the table. 

“My friend brought me a ticket and begged for me to come. I didn’t want to disappoint so I said yes. And yea, no clue.”

“Well, that’s disheartening. Who would’ve thought that a non-fan would get exclusive backstage passes? No one comes back here. Not unless we bring them,” he places his glass back on the table, a light tap ringing in your ears. “I’m Seonghwa, the lead singer. I presume you figured as much.”

“He always talks so stiffly,” Wooyoung frowns, sticking a finger in his mouth and pretending to gag. “I’m the favorite member by the votes on the web.”

“You always make these things up, be realistic,” Another rolls his eyes from the other side of the room. He nods at you. “Hi. I’m San. The best part of the band.”

Wooyoung snorts, causing San to shoot him a look.

“Hongjoong, and as you can tell,” he waves his sticks in the air, sticking one inside his blue mullet. “Drummer. Spotted you from the crowd. You say you aren’t a fan but you stared pretty hard.”

You bite your tongue, and he only laughs. The last man doesn’t say a word, lying far away from you. His hair bright blond, head resting on an arm, leaning him slightly up. His eyes are closed, legs shaking every so often. You don’t bother to ask his name. Something about his closed-off mannerisms only makes you want to stay away.

“Yeosang is our violinist. Something we thought would bring otherness to our music. He hasn’t been in our band long, so he’s not really communicative with fans. Or, people,” Hongjoong glances at you sympathetically. “He acts like that to everyone, so there’s no need to feel offended. We’ve told him about his people skills, or lack thereof.”

“I can hear every word coming out of your mouth, Hong,” Yeosang murmurs. “I don’t sleep, remember?”

“Naps aren’t his thing,” Hongjoong adds.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say, nodding at them. Yunho still hasn’t come back with the bucket. You would check the time, but there’s nothing hanging on the walls. And all of them seem to either have their devices hidden away or not at all.

What have you gotten yourself into?

"Why are you afraid?" His silky voice entices you, makes you look up from your hands and into his eyes. Hwa tilts his head, what you can only assume is a mock concern in his gaze. "We wouldn't hurt you."

Did you speak out loud? How did he even guess what’s going on in your head?

“I could see your eyes, doe. Terrified. Like a deer in headlights.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung moves closer to you, breath tickling your neck. He leans closer to your ear, lips a breath away from brushing against your lobe. “We can hear how quick your heartbeat is going. Yunho isn’t going to abandon you, he knows how excited we get around new hu-people.”

“That’s why I’m here,” San murmurs. “Keep Woo and Yeo under control. Sometimes Hongjoong, if he’s feeling a bit antsy. You're safe.”

The conversation shifted immediately. You’ve felt something off about them, from the charisma they emitted on stage, to the gazes that followed you around the club. To now, these light warnings have so much more meaning to them.

"How do I know that?" You say. "I don't know any of you, just your names." You have no idea why you listened to the guilt-tripping words of your friend, still out in the crowd. By now, you’re sure she probably left. SHe’s never the type to check up on others, always following her own plans. So many red flags for you to stay away from this place, and you ignored every single one.

A snort comes from the corner, Yeosang stretched out on the old couch, holes covering each and every part. He leans his head back, staring at you upside down. His eyes lighten to almost a dark red. 

"We're dangerous, baby. And you smell too good for us to just pass you up."

You stand up, only to be pushed back down to the couch. Now, you can feel the pumping of your heart in your throat as you look around. The others watch you, barely paying any mind to Wooyoung’s hold on your arm.

“Let me go-”

“I’m sorry, really I am. But another one of us is about to come in and I can’t let them get at you,” Woo says, voice dripping with sorrow. “I swear, we didn’t expect any company. I thought we’d have more time to explain-”

“No more talking about it,” Seonghwa says harshly, staring at the black door. “yn, don’t say a word. Or it may be your last.” He stands, long overcoat drifting behind him. 

You never said your name.

The black door you came through moments ago swings open. Yunho walks in first, bucket in hand. It’s quite large but he holds it with grace, balancing it between a few fingers. He looks agitated, giving you a calm smile before stepping aside. A man you haven’t seen your time walking around the club makes his way in, hands tucked in his side pockets. 

Despite the warm weather outdoors, he’s covered completely. Everything that he wears is red, matching the colors of the eyes of the men in the room. His lips curve into a wide grin, lip piercing shining in the dark. A mullet peeks from the back of his head, head tilted as he glances around to look at everyone. You thought that these men in the room were the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, but he equally matches them. You’re not sure if that frightens you even more, especially with the concerning look Woo gave you before he entered. 

Hongjoong’s figure slightly covers yours, enough to hide you from his sight for a moment. Seonghwa’s warning rings in your ear, enough for you to keep yourself quiet. Now’s not the time to make a fuss, especially when you don’t know what these people are capable of. 

"Seems like you had a successful set," the unknown man says, narrowing his eyes at Hongjoong. "Smells like you're hiding something else in here."

Your heartbeat only quickens. Wooyoung holds your hand, looking at you sympathetically and tugs you closer to him, hoping he doesn't inquire further.

"What do you want, Hanse? You know you're not supposed to be here," Seonghwa says, distracting him. “This is our land.”

Hanse widens his eyes in mock shock, “Oh? I just wanted to visit my friends, see what’s going on. You know how it is on the other side. They’re suspecting us, the humans-”

“That’s not our problem,” Seonghwa grinds his teeth, tucking his hands in his pocket. “Your carelessness doesn’t affect us in the slightest. There’s lines in the ground for a reason, you’re only causing drama if you attempt to cross them.”

Hanse holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not here to cause a war. Just came to ask for a favor. Just a few, nothing more than that-” he stops talking, eyes flicking to the side. “Who is that hiding behind you, Hongjoong?”

Your blood runs cold. From the way they��re talking, you can tell something isn’t right. Who calls people, humans? Your mind tries to piece everything together, but the result is something you don’t like. Wooyoung tugs you even closer, his side touching yours. His hold is strong, clothing completely cold despite the warmth of the room. Another red flag that you’re ignoring for now.

“Nothing to do with you,” Hongjoong says, staying in place. “Leave.”

“Just let me get a good look at her,” Hanse takes a step. Yunho holds out his arm, stopping him in place.

“He said no. Learn to listen.”

Hanse frowns. This time the playfulness is gone from his gaze. “You never play with humans this long. What’s different about her? Is it the smell?” He sniffs. “She does smell sweeter than the rest-”

“Leave. And I won’t say it again,” Hongjoong stands this time, tucking his drumsticks into his jacket pocket. Hanse stares him down, lips in a straight line until he laughs, shaking his head.

“Fine. Subin would be very interested in hearing that you have a pet,” Hanse glances at you, finally revealed once Hongjoong moved. He smiles, raising his brows. “And she’s pretty too.”

He turns on his heels, walking out the door. Yunho closes it, letting out a long sigh. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

Seonghwa says nothing, gliding back to his seat. He takes the cup of ‘wine’, sipping on it slowly. Hongjoong turns to the rest, glancing at you for a moment. You move away from Wooyoung, a slight hesitancy from him before he lets go. You know that he’s probably doing it for show, the strong hold on you from before probably leaving bruises. You stand, ignoring all of their gazes and walking over to Yunho.

“I just need my phone, and you all can do what you want. I don’t want to be involved in any of this.” It’s true. Their mysterious allure is something you never took the pleasure of trying to uncover, not before and not now after meeting them. You don’t see them exchanging looks as you dig through the bucket Yunho sits on the small table, frantically looking for your phone.

“You’re not the least bit curious?” Yeosang’s deep voice speaks over the music playing. You falter in your search for just a second, before continuing to look.

Now’s not the time for curiosity. If anything, you hope that you can forget this night like many others seem to. Perhaps it can protect you from what you’ve seen and felt. Hopefully enough so that you can get back to your normal, peaceful life. No… strange creatures. Whatever they may be.

“Ignoring us isn’t going to stop what’s happening-”

“And what exactly is happening?” You turn to Wooyoung. “I just wanted my phone, that’s it. You can keep your weird gang activities to yourselves.”

“We both know that you know we aren’t just a band, yn.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, shaking your head. “I don’t want this.”

“It’s too late,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Hanse saw her face. He wouldn’t pause in his search for you once you leave our premises. I truly apologize that we involved you in our private affairs, yn…” You didn’t hear him stand, but he’s next to you, leaning down and peering into your eyes. “But there’s no backing away from this. If you ignore the danger, then you will be killed sooner rather than later.”

Fuck. You hold yourself up on the table, staring down in thought. You somehow trust his words, despite only knowing him for less than an hour. It’s not enough for you to completely trust him, but you can see that he’s not lying. Especially with the way Hanse was staring at you. Like you were his next meal.

“What are you?” You say softly. 

“It’s easy to guess,” Yunho shrugs. “Shows at night. Hwa drinking blood, our cold skin. Points to only one thing.”

“We're vampires.” 

You drop the bucket on the floor.

Wooyoung giggles, “When you say it like that, it makes it seem normal.”

“Not exactly a life I’d wish upon anyone,” Yeosang stands, brushing off his pants. “I need to patrol. You can talk to the human and tell her all the facts. Nothing I haven’t heard millions of times.” He glances at you as he walks past. His nose wrinkles but he says nothing to you, exiting out the door. Seonghwa nods at you, following behind.

Yunho guides you to the couch he was just sitting on, Wooyoung quickly shifts to sit next to you once more. His fascination with you is odd and frankly alarming, but there’s more to worry about right now. Like being stuck in a room full of people who would suck your blood without thinking twice.

Normal problems.

“What does this mean for me? Why are you telling me this?”

“Well,” Hongjoong looks at the floor. “Hanse isn’t exactly a reputable vampire. His clan owns the neighboring city, and we own this one. There have been incidents on their side of humans being killed, many considering there being a serial killer on the loose. Nothing has come to affect us, but because of the alarm, many of their citizens have been avoiding leaving their homes. And less people on the streets means-”

“Less blood walking around,” Yunho says. “They’ve been pestering us about sharing our land, but we’d never consider it. Their way of feeding is… quite different from ours. We don’t kill them, just let them forget about it. No murders.”

“Not recently, anyway. No reason to lie. We weren’t exactly model vampires all of our lives,” Hongjoong says. “But now that Hanse knows about you, he’s not going to stop. Yes, your blood smells sweet, sweeter than anything I’ve scented in a while,” he sucks in a breath, eyes flicking to your neck. An unreadable expression crosses his face, before he shakes his head. “But you aren’t our pet like he thinks. And there’s no way to convince him that that’s not the case. They’ve always wanted their own… walking blood supply. And if he believes that you’re interested because you were with us, he’ll eventually find you and take you away so they can have you for themselves.”

He looks into your eyes. “We’re sorry.”

"No, I'm not doing this." You stand, pulling your arm away from Wooyoung's outstretched hand. "Fuck you, fuck all of you. I'm going home."

"Not possible.”

A voice you haven't heard before speaks up. You turn to the door, quickly recognizing the man that was on stage earlier.  "And who are you exactly?" Your head flicks to him in the corner, hands resting crossed against his chest as he avoids looking in your direction. Hongjoong slowly grins, teeth piercing the soft skin of his lower lip. Despite their confession to you, you can't help but tremble in fear at his expression. 

You can already feel the drumming of Wooyoung's fingers. Dancing close to the back of your neck, inching closer and closer as seconds pass. 

"That's Jongho. Our other lead singer. He doesn't really interfere with our activities. Keeps to himself, right?" Hongjoong wiggles his eyebrows at him, but he doesn't bother moving from his stance. "He's a bit boring. Humans are much more interesting than him. He is a vegetarian, after all."

"A vegetarian?"

"Sips the blood out of bags, yn," Wooyoung is closer now, words brushing against your skin. Sending trembles down your spine. He grins, tilting his head. "But he's a little anxious, you see. You just smell so good, even he's getting nervous."

"Fuck off," Jongho growls from his spot, glaring at Wooyoung. His eyes don't meet yours, but you can see how they linger over your figure, focusing on the small portion of your skin peeking out from your collar. He shuts his eyes, looking away. 

You can't decipher much from his gaze, the bodyguard from the front door bursting in the room. His nose is flared, fists clenched on his sides. He looks to you, recognition in his gaze.

"The blood bag from the front door?" He says, a bit of a question at the end. He takes another step, quickly stopped by the look Hongjoong gives him. "Out of every human you could choose, her?"

"Is there a problem?" 

He glares, "There are humans that smell sweeter than her.”

“They were dull and lacked life. She is a talkative one. And didn’t run when I confessed. But we all know why she’s here,” Hongjoong shrugs, looking at you.

“I’m not going to be one of your blood bags, Hongjoong. I’m not going to let you sit here and tell me that I’m going to let you do anything you want with me. Fuck you.”

“We don’t want that from you,” Hongjoong sighs softly. “Mingi is just in a mood. You’re more special than a simple human for us to feed off of. San here,” he gestures to the man, “He has a contract that you can sign before we discuss things further. It will protect us, and protect you. No information will be leaked to unruly parties, and you will be safe from ever being affected by our wrongdoings. It is an even trade.”

What the hell is he on about? You just wanted your phone, not to sign contracts with strangers. You glance at San, scoffing.  “He deals with law? A bit hard to believe,” you eye said man, but he only quirks a brow. As if inviting you to speak further on his character. Of course you don’t take the bait; you consider your life a bit too precious to just toss away at the whims of a vampire attorney. Even the combination of words are a bit silly to even think of. So you only purse your lips, moving your gaze away from his alluring one.

“Which is understandable,” Hongjoong concurs. He takes out a necklace, holding it between his fingers. “But with the long lives we have lived, it will be unfortunate if someone decided to bring the force of the law against us. I’d rather not spend my days rotting behind a prison cell. Not that we would, of course. But it is helpful, nonetheless.” The necklace drops to the table, a wince from Yeosang catching your attention. “But we didn’t bring you back here to tell you about how San practices law. This piece of jewelry, can you touch it?” Hongjoong slides it against the glass to you. Oddly, it doesn’t scratch at all.

The room grows silent; only the muted music filling the air. You stare at the jewels, the emerald color quite vibrant in the low light. Your curiosity almost outweighs the red exclamation points of danger. So despite it, you only stare at it then flick your gaze to Hongjoong. He tilts his head, waiting for you to respond.

“Why? How do I know this won’t curse me for all eternity?” You question. Seonghwa scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What? I know none of you. Do you expect me to blindly follow your words?”

A scoff from the corner catches your attention. “Quite brave for a little human. Even if she turns out not to be ours, it will be entertaining to see her plead for her life.” You don’t recognize him from the performance they’ve just completed. He’s considerably taller than most of the men in the room, attire similar to theirs. You’d wonder if he actually was part of the band, but your thoughts are preoccupied by the slow movement of Yeosang from the back of the room. He catches your eyes, a small smile on his lips. Instead of comfort, it is more eerie than anything else.

“Don’t tease her, Mingi. Lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes move back to you, scowl falling. “This is not a ruse. If you touch it and you don’t give us the desired reaction, then we will let you go. It is as simple as that.”

“But I know what you are. I could just leave and tell people about it,” you say, brows furrowed. It’s not the wisest thing to do, mentioning your place. But they all seem to only laugh at your words, puzzling you more. “What’s funny?”

“You truly haven’t heard of this club. I thought you were jesting, but it seems to be true,” San chuckles, shaking his head. “Our reputation precedes us. We’ve been accused of being ‘vampires’ countless times to the authorities. Your words will be nothing new to their ears. It’ll just add to the pile of delusional patrons surrounding this place.”

“You’re lying,” you glare, and he shrugs. He leans behind him, grabbing your cell phone and dialing the police. Once he puts it on speaker, he waits.

“This is the emergency hotline. What is your emergency?”

The teasing expression drops, a panicked one replacing it. His voice is desperate as he speaks into the phone. Playing into the character of a frightened club goer. “This band that performs at the Clair de lune, there’s something off about them. One of my friends went in their backroom and told me –“

“Told you that they’re drinking blood?” The operator’s voice is unamused, almost monotone as she listens to San’s pleas.

“Yes, and I know this sounds crazy but please just listen to me-“

“Sir,” the woman interrupts San. “Do you understand that this line is for emergency use only? We do not tolerate false claims and our officers do not have time for it when other callers need this line more than a prank. If you call back again about this, you will be reported and fined. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“Do you understand, sir?” She presses him. He sighs – even you believe his fake hysterics – and agrees, ending the call. Without another word, he tosses you the phone. You grab it, gripping it tightly as you try to think things through. There had to be dozens of calls from his place for the police to just brush him off that way. How incompetent can the police force be? You’d think that they’d actively investigate the club if there’s been so many calls. Or perhaps they did and found nothing of value that’s been mentioned. Nevertheless, it leaves you at a disadvantage. If the police won’t believe your words, you have no escape.

“So, what will it be? The necklace isn’t laced with poison or anything nefarious. A touch won’t kill you,” Hongjoong moves the necklace closer. His persistence is irking on your nerves, but you avoid letting it get to you. It will be quite unlucky if you didn’t survive this encounter.

With great hesitance, you reach for the necklace. Breaths are hushed as your fingers hover above the jewel, your skin touching it lightly. You feel nothing at first, lifting it in your hands and examining the metal. At least, until your eyes peer into the jewel.

“I will be delighted,” a voice raspier than your own falls from your lips, brows raised as you gaze at the man in front of you. Somehow you, in this vision of sorts, doesn’t see it the least bit odd. But as you stare, your confusion only grows. Most of the clothing looked thrown together; loose fitting garments tucked into slacks, boots worn but still kept in okay shape. The more you take in his outfit – wide brim and cloth lazily resting against his shoulders – the more you believe that he’s a pirate. A slight difference from what you’ve seen in the media, but still a pirate. One gold earring accented his ears. That distinction made you recognize him in an instant.

Hongjoong rests his body against the wood of the ship. “Will you? But your eyes have been cast elsewhere. Seonghwa has taken your fancy instead of I.”

“Has he? Because I do recall a well night’s toss in the quarters of Wooyoung. Or was it Yeosang? Jongho? I cannot keep count,” you quirk your brow, fingers brushing against the familiar necklace. His eyes follow your movements, tongue moistening his lips. “Me agreeing to be aboard this ship was never a promise that I will lay with one man. And why would I, when there is an endless supply?”

“You treat us like goods?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you move closer, hand resting a breath away from his. “I treat you like treasure.”

You drop the necklace from your hands, chest tight. You would’ve said it was a daydream, a mere thought you were swept up into. But something that real, that feeling, it felt nothing like a dream. Your phone is unmoving between your hands as you stare at the reflection of the door in the mirror ahead. Pretend it was nothing. They wouldn’t be the wiser.

Your plan doesn’t even get the chance to work, Hongjoong taking the necklace from where you dropped it, tucking it into his suit jacket. Your sarcastic attitude shifts for a moment as you watch him stand, your eyes following his every move. That lapse in judgment makes you forget that there’s others in the room. Particularly, Yunho standing guard by the door.

“Oh pretty,” Yunho tsks, your eyes meeting in the reflection. “I knew it was you.”

“How could this be possible?” Wooyoung paces back and forth, hand running through his hair. “It has been hundreds of years. It can’t be. It was just a mere dream, there was no chance that it could be true. Souls are rarely seen in similar bodies.”

“Would you rather it not be her?” San gripes, eyes still on you. “I for one am glad to see you again. The last few hundred years have been quite the nightmare.”

“We don’t even know what she saw,” Mingi says, moving from his lean against the far wall. “It could be just a farce. Getting riled up over nothing will only hurt us in the end.” He looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Now, what did you see?”

“Nothing,” you say, unmoving from your spot. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t utter a word about it.”

“Your attitude was endearing in the beginning, but now it’s really getting to me,” he replies back, voice sour. “Even if you are her, there’s only a small part of me that would hesitate to kill you.”

It’s not an empty threat in the slightest, his eyes glowing in the low light. You’re running out of options fast. They won’t let you go, not until you tell them what you’ve seen. And although you’d prefer to lie to get out of it, there isn’t a chance that it’d work. You just know.

“Patience, Mingi,” Yunho touches his forearm lightly. “We have all the time in the world. She will confess what she’s seen, one way or another.”           

“Why do you care? And why are you speaking to me and asking if I know you? I’ve never seen any of you in my life.” You’re not fibbing with your words. Despite their popularity in this neighborhood, tonight is the first night you’ve caught a glimpse of what they look like. Oddly enough, there aren’t any photos of the popular band on the internet. Band, you scoff to yourself. More like a clan of bloodthirsty creatures. Ones that have probably bribed the police officers of the strange occurrences in this underground club.

“In this life, yes. But in a past one, you saw us quite often,” Jongho murmurs. He’s the only one who hasn’t gazed into your eyes, his focus stuck on the floor beneath him. “It’s difficult for humans to remember what they once were. It’s rare and few in between. This is why you need to tell us what you’ve seen. We know you want to leave. A simple explanation of what you witnessed when you touched that necklace is all that we need to know.”

“… That is all?” You ask no one in particular. Each one nods their head though, moving closer, interested in what you’re going to say. You press your hands between your thighs, thinking back to the images in your head. “It wasn’t anything extraordinary. There was… a woman and a man. They were speaking to each other about spending the night together. He was a bit jealous that she had other partners besides him, but she expressed that she isn’t confined to just one man. And then she touched that necklace on my neck. That’s all that happened.”

San laughs, astonished. “You are her.”

“I’m not! It was just a dream-“

“Your neck,” Yeosang says after a moment. “You said she touched the necklace on my neck. A slip of the tongue says a lot,” his demeanor has changed, stiff body a bit more relaxed. “Where were you? What location?”

“I…” You think hard, trying to recall. The scene was quite dark, but you did hear something behind the hushed tones. The sound of loud waves hitting wood. “It… it must have been on a boat. There’s no other reason for that sound.”

“It was not a mere boat, my rose,” San says softly. “The Hiraeth was unlike any other. She was an infamous ship, housing the most feared crew of the seas. Hongjoong would have thrown you overboard if we were on her at this moment,” He teases, glancing at Hongjoong. “He didn’t earn his place as captain of the greatest ship that’s ever sailed for her to be called a small boat.”

“As you can see, San is very passionate,” Hongjoong notes, laughing softly. “But his words ring true. All of us in this room fought our hardest for us to have the honor to be aboard the Hiraeth. Unlike you, of course. You caught a ride on our ship when it was at port. Who would’ve thought that we would catch the eye of the rose?”

“Rose?” All of their words are going in one ear and out the other. The Hiraeth, a ship that they’ve once owned in a prior life – correction, the immortal life that they live in now. And somehow, your previous reincarnation knew them back then. It sounds far-fetched, but a part of you believes it to be true. They can either be a strange cult that likes to drink human blood (which may be true), or they are in fact vampires, living beyond years that you can comprehend. Questioning them is the only thing you can do to figure out what exactly is going on around here. “Why do you keep on calling me rose?”

“That is a long story for the short amount of time that we have right now,” Yunho says, staring at the door just behind you. “The next set is soon. We can’t keep them waiting. You may go.”

You don’t let any of them say another word, grabbing your bag and turning to the door. You grip the knob, swinging it open. It slams against the frame behind you, but you pay no mind. The crowd is still as rowdy as before, more patrons moving close to the stage to see the band that they all love. Unlike yourself, who’d rather be far away from here. It’s rough getting through, most people stuck in their spot, blocking your way to the exit. The strum of a bass doesn’t even stop you. Until you bump into someone in front of you. You almost curse, the thought drifting from your mind as you stare at them. It’s as if they’re frozen in place. Stuck in a trance. A quick glance around makes you see that everyone is. Not one of the concert goers is moving, eyes straight ahead to the stage. Against your better judgment, you follow their gaze. Wooyoung holds the bass guitar, lips pressed against the mic. A small smirk slowly forms on his lips, lids heavy as he grips the stand. The boom of the drums makes you jump, Jongho’s singing vibrates through your body.

You pull yourself out of the hypnotic sounds of music, moving around the people in a trance and making your way to the door. Mingi stands there – somehow getting there before you – blocking your way.

“I thought I was allowed to leave?” You hiss. Mingi’s brows quirk, head gesturing to the stage.

“You’ll miss the main event,” he says simply. He doesn’t budge, and you don’t dare touch him. You reluctantly turn around, gaze moved back to the stage. Your mouth dries at the scene ahead. Wooyoung grips a person in his hands, lips pressed against their neck. From afar, it would look as if he’s trapped them in a romantic embrace. But you know better. Especially with the tightness of his hold on their arms, the shimmer of liquid falling down their skin, dripping to the tiles below. It's as if you're frozen in place like everyone else, unable to look away from the scene in front of you. But it's not the worst part of it. Despite the gruesome scene, his eyes are on yours. Steady. Unblinking. 

"He's not going to kill him," Mingi says, pulling you out of the trance. "We don't kill any of them. They just won't remember why their body aches. We aren't killers, y/n. We've grown out of that."

You look away from Wooyoung, moving around Mingi. He doesn't stop you this time, even as you trip as you make your way up the stairs. You swing the door open, the cold air of the night hitting you harshly. You don't stop moving, even as you run out of breath. You make it to the nearest bus stop, squeezing yourself into the seat and staring ahead, tucking your legs close to you. There's no one on the sidewalks, no one that would be a witness if one of them decided that you were better as dinner than whatever they want you to be. Your fingers dig into your pants, lip trembling at the image burned into your mind. 

"What the fuck," you curse, biting your lip. Your teeth pierce the soft skin, a soft ouch whispered as you touch it. "Can this night get any worse?" You wipe the residue on your shirt. It's too late for the buses to be running, way past 12am. The next one is around 6am, hours from now. You think, pressing the power button on your phone. It doesn't turn on, no matter how many times you press it.

"Just my luck," you say, tucking it into your pocket. Your apartment isn't too far away from this place, but that means walking at least fifteen minutes alone at this time of night. You widen your eyes, realizing what you've just done. You left your friend at the club. A club filled with vampires. You quickly stand. 

Ignoring the warnings in your head, ignoring how your body fights against you, trying to pull you back from jogging to the entrance of the club. You reach it, gripping the knob. It doesn't budge, no matter how many times you pull on it. Your fists hit the metal, but no one answers.

"I know you can hear me out here!" You screech, tugging once more then kicking. You rub your face, swallowing slowly. She has to still be in there. Sure, you saw her chatting up a guy but she wouldn't leave when she wanted to see Hiraeth play. She's many things, but she doesn't waste money. No matter how attractive the guy is. And despite knowing that she'd leave without a second though if she was in your position, you can't do the same. Not when you know what this club is.

But you had little alternatives left. If they won't open the door, how would you help her? Stand outside all night, waiting until it opens again? Wait until a patron stumbles out and takes that opportunity? You continue to curse at yourself, sighing loudly.

"A rose shouldn't be in despair."

You whip your head around, eyes widening. The man from before – no, vampire – stands there, hands tucked in his pockets. His head is tilted as he stares at you, tongue dragging along is piercing on his lips. 

"Do not fuck with me," you say harshly, despite the fear in your heart and your sweaty palms. You have nothing, left it all in your purse, still in the backroom of the club. Right now, all you have are your wits. And you haven't exactly started off on the best note. "Get the hell away from me."

"I didn't recognize you at first. The fucks in there wanted to keep you hidden from my eyes. And they did, for a bit," he purses his lips. "But it's a bit difficult to hide how pleasant you smell. Even someone as poise as me could sniff you out in a room full of blood."

"I'll give you the perfume name if that's what you want."

He laughs, head thrown back as it echoes in the night. You move a bit closer to the door, hoping that someone leaves the club. It's a longshot, but it's the only one you've got. 

"Ah, still as snarky as before. Although," he glances at your neck. "You're not bleeding like you did when I last saw you. Still have that scar in the middle of your chest?"

You touch your chest quickly. Fabric is covering your skin from being seen, so there's no way he could've known. The oddly shaped birthmark that you've had since you were young sits there. You've tried covering it up with makeup, anything. But it always shows. No matter what you've tried. How could he …? You furrow your brows. Perhaps, the guys weren't lying as much as you thought. 

"What do you want with me?" You ask. 

Hanse shrugs, moving closer. "Just to talk. Can't really talk to you with your bodyguard hanging around, though. Back to my place?"

"In your dreams," you shoot back. His friendly smile slips, lips in a straight line.

"There's only so much patience I have, rose. You might not believe me now, but staying around here, seeing Hiraeth often isn't wise. Their words are cunning, sharp. You will begin to believe everything they say, your doubt will disappear. You will not be safe here."

"And I will be safe with you? A stranger? Do you believe that I will just agree and go with you?" You're both afraid and furious. Do these men take you for some damsel in distress, ready to hop in the arms of the first man that offers? “Get the fuck away from me.”

He rubs his eyes, sighing softly. His gaze moves back to you, taking a card out of his pocket. He holds it out between two fingers, waiting for you to grab it. You don’t, so he flicks it. You catch it with ease, looking down at the words written.

Do Han-se

XXX-XXX-XXX

“If you ever need me, us, you can give that number a call. Even if it rings once, I’ll be able to find you. Wherever, if you need me,” he says simply. “I hope that you won’t ever have to dial it, but keep it safe, rose. Subin wouldn’t like it if you died early again in this life.”

“Who…?”

You look up. He’s already gone, the only presence of him being this strange business card. You think about tossing it away, throwing it down a sewer. But instead, you tuck it in your front pocket. The doors to the club open, people coming out. The crowd is loud, laughs echoing around the side street. You wait there patiently for any sign of your friend. After what seems like several minutes, she comes out, glancing around. Her eyes land on your, and she grins. She tugs along a guy pressed against her side. You wrinkle your nose, ignoring him and looking at her.

“Where’d you go- Hey!” 

You push her hair to the side, looking at her neck. No marks are left there, and you sigh in relief, moving away. She glares at you, but you ignore it, glancing at the man she has tagging along. “Did you meet someone?”

“Yesss,” her words drag. You’d think that she’s drunk, but that’s just how she acts without an ounce of alcohol. She pulls him close to her side, pressing her lips against his arm. “His name is Jaehyeong, and we’re in the same classes! He’s going to take me home. He can take you too, you know. I think the buses aren’t running anymore.”

You honestly don’t trust this Jaehyeong, but you agree, letting him lead the both of you to his car. It’s not the most dangerous thing you’ve done tonight, and definitely not the last. You shift into the backseat, throwing your head back against the rest. 

The ride is smooth despite the flirtation between the both of them. You tell her to message you when she arrives at her house, and the next morning. But before you leave, you tell her to send you a photo of his license and registration before driving off. It might be a bit of paranoia, but you can’t really trust anyone these days. Especially since tonight, the alarming danger you’ve just been through. But you’re home, you’re safe, and you didn’t see anyone tailing his car. So you walk into your apartment, tossing your bag onto your kitchen chair and sitting on the couch. You’re thankful a bit for your mini vacation that you took from work, enough time to recuperate and settle your heart before you go back to the store.

The night seems long as you get ready for bed, taking a quick shower. You feel the insides of your pockets, fingers touching the card. You take it out, staring at the numbers. Getting rid of it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But it’s a reminder of tonight; the gazes of Hiraeth on you, the knowledge that you now know of vampires lurking around your city. You take one more glance at the card then toss it in the bin. 

-

Your break is over quicker than you thought, sighing as you put on your clothes. You adjust your hat, grabbing your phone off the charge and leave your apartment. The days after the club incident have been dull, nothing out of the ordinary happening as you went back into your routine. You looked over your shoulders almost everyday, but the thought of them now only lingers in the back of your mind. There hasn’t been an appearance from them or Hanse. You’re thankful for the boringness of it all, thankful that you don’t have to worry about a vampire appearing from around the corner. Especially since you work the day shift. Not that you know exactly how vampires work, but you’ve seen that in several movies. All of them emphasized that they couldn’t walk around during the day. 

You make it to work okay, greeting your coworkers and going to the back for the cart of book returns. You hum as you restock, frowning when you see half empty disposable coffee cups in odd places. You toss them as you walk by, using hand sanitizer every so often. Your cart is almost empty when you hear a familiar voice in the aisle in front of yours. It’s softer, you don’t quite notice it until you hear them continue to speak.

“Ah, she has to be around here somewhere,” your manager says. “She’s the one that you’ll need for recommendations. Reads fantasy every chance she gets,” he chuckles. You stop moving, listening to their steps.

It can’t be. It’s not possible.

“Does she?” His voice is soft as he speaks to your manager. “That sounds like the perfect person to speak to.” 

You grip the cart, thinking. It’s possible that he didn’t know it was you. No, they had to know. The coincidence is too unreal for it to be true. But if they know where you work, what else do they know? Your family, your friends? Where you live? A shiver rolls down your spine. You leave your cart abandoned, moving down another aisle. The steps of your manager and him turn down where you just were as you hide in between bookshelves. 

"Ah, I thought she was here," your manager says. "Well, this is the aisle you'd want to be in. I'll try to find her but our store is pretty big, there might not be much luck." 

"That's too bad. Thank you sir, I'll find something on my own." 

They exchange a few words, before your manager walks off to help someone else. You close your eyes for a moment. Letting out a breath of relief at his words. Perhaps he'll leave? Give up? You're stuck in the corner of the bookstore, and the only way is forward. So you stand there silently, ears perked for the sound of his steps fading. Instead, though, you hear him waltz forward, closer and closer to where you are.

"You've always been cunning, doe."

You freeze at the words.

"We've told you before. Your scent is strong, you know. Nothing smells like you. Even the thick scent of perfume you've been wearing doesn't mask it. That is a smart move, though. If I wasn't already familiar with your scent, I would have walked away."

Your chest rises and falls as you shrink into yourself. "How did you find me?" You ask.

He chuckles lightly, "How? We've never lost you, doe. A few days of not seeing us doesn't mean that we haven't seen you. We told you that you're special. Why hide when we will find you?"

You glance around your spot for any escape. Anything that can make him leave you alone. But there's nothing. His slow steps round the corner, your eyes meeting his gaze. He's wearing all black, a few loose buttons on his shirt showing his skin underneath. His hair is pulled back, showing his undercut. But his lips are smirking, eyebrows raised as he stops at the end. Watching you. 

"There's my pretty little doe."

"You can't be here. I'm working, Seonghwa. I don't have time for games–"

"Games?" His eyes narrow as he moves closer. "Is that what you think this is? A game?"

"What else could it be?"

"My pretty doe," he tsks, shaking his head. "Didn't you hear us speak before? This is no game to us. You are no game to us. You are our rose, my doe. We will never treat you like other humans, because you are not like them. You are ours."

"I am not fucking yours," you hiss, glaring as he stops just a foot in front of you. "You don't scare me. None of you do. So stop telling me that I'm yours and leave me the Hell alone. Find someone else who's willing to bend at your will. Because that person is not me, Seonghwa. And it will never be."

His head tilts as he listens, blinking slowly. "Is that so?"

"It is."

He moves closer now, your bodies inches apart. His hand reaches up, fingers brushing against your skin. It's cold to the touch, but somehow, you feel your skin warming up. Your body trembling beneath his touch. He leans down, smirking.

"You can tell me to move anytime you'd like, my doe."

His lips glide along the skin just below your jaw, breaths cold. His thumb strokes the tender part of your head, just behind your ear. He holds you in place, grip steady. You swallow just as his lips tremble. They press against your vein, tongue oddly warm in comparison to his cold body. Your own hands dig into your jeans, thoughts wild. You could’ve sworn you saw another person pass by. He doesn’t seem to care; his chest is pressed against yours, holding you roughly against the wooden wall behind you. There's no resistance from your side. Instead, your thoughts are filled with things that it should definitely not be filled with. Images of Seonghwa using you as he pleases.

“You smell divine,” he says, pulling his lips away from your skin. His irises dilate, the quick assumption that they’re contacts immediately fleeting from your mind. Panic starts to rise in your chest, but he doesn’t move away from you. Instead, his hands press on either side of your head, eyes steady on yours.

“Don’t be scared. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.” His lips curve, a sly grin rising. “But I do like it when you’re frightened. It makes it all the more fun.”

"What do you want from me?" You say. His hands drop from you, moving back. Your thoughts are still clouded with him, but much less so than just a moment ago. You curse at yourself. How did you fall for his charms? You would have done anything for him just because his fingers touched you.

"We want you to remember," he says softly. He backs away, nodding to himself. "I came here to confirm that you are her. You look similar to her, but not all at once. Wooyoung wanted to come, but he's a bit preoccupied.  So I was chosen to take his place. He isn't happy about it, but he will live."

"Seonghwa."

He turns on his heel, eyes flicking to yours. 

"How do you know that I'm the woman you're looking for?"

His smile is subtle as he looks at you. From where you're standing, you can see the woe in his eyes as he loses himself in thought. He clears his throat, looking away. "When I touched you. Humans are often afraid of us. When we touch them, their body tells them that we are a threat. That we will hurt them. Every single human that I have brushed against, by accident or otherwise, has been disgusted by me. But you," he closes his eyes. "You were never afraid of me. Your eyes only looked at me with warmth. The same eyes that now look at me in horror. I yearn for that change, and hope it will be soon. See you later, doe."

He says nothing more, leaving you alone in the aisle.

-

You stare at the assortment of products in front of you, basket in hand. Several types of garlic products stare back at you. Waiting for you to decide which one you want. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking. This is silly, you say to yourself. There’s a slight chance that they’re allergic to garlic. You doubt the truth of it anyway. If Seonghwa can walk around during the day, not affected by the sun, the chance of this vegetable being fatal to them is slim. Still, you grab a few garlic powders off the shelf, throwing it next to the raw garlic in your basket.

“This won’t help.”

You turn around quickly, eyes flicking over the man that stands next to you. He’s wearing all black, fast hidden with a mask. You can still see his eyes though. A soft brown. He glances in your basket, humming in confirmation.

“Vampires aren’t going to run because you’re mixing garlic into everything you eat. Things like that don’t affect them, no matter how often films tell us otherwise.”

“I just like using it for pasta,” you say, moving a bit away from him. Stupid idea to pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. But you don’t have much of a choice. It’s the middle of the night, and there aren't many people in the market. A few elderly aren’t going to help you if this guy turns out to be some creep. Which is very likely, particularly with the mask and hat covering his distinct features. 

"The garlic, silver, it doesn't do anything to them. More laughable if anything else," he touches the shelf, a bit of powder smearing his fingertips. "It was a myth started by them to make humans ignorant to what truly hurts them. Smart in a sense. Having humans follow false leads that would eventually lead them to their demise.”

“Sounds interesting. Well, I have to go,” you turn on your heels, moving in the opposite direction.

“Pretending to be oblivious to what I’m saying will just result in a shorter lifespan,” he stands. You stop walking, holding your basket in your hand tightly. He’s right and you know it’s true. But trusting the words of a stranger? You look back, noticing that he hasn’t moved from his spot. It puzzles you; everyone you’ve met seems to want to chase after you. But him? His hands are tucked in his pockets, gaze on yours. He’s giving you a choice; stay and listen, or go.

Not much of a choice, since he’s the only person that seems to know what’s happening with you. 

“What do you know about vampires?” You ask, voice hush. You can’t see his lips, but his eyes squint, smiling behind the mask. “And how do you know me?” 

“Once Hiraeth has taken a note of you, everyone involved with them knows. It is just how it is,” he shrugs, finally moving from his spot. You hold the basket in front of your body, a makeshift shield as he makes his way to you. “They don’t often bother humans for this long, so there must be something special about you. Perhaps your scent?” He tilts his head, eyes flicking over your body. 

You know a bit of why they’re interested in you. Not enough to explain it to anyone, but still. “I don’t care, frankly.” 

“Ah, but you should. Knowing their endgame is a way for you to be free of them. Not many who catch the eye of those eight survive to tell the story. The last time they were infatuated with a human was when they were one themselves-“ He stops speaking, gaze moving behind you. “Being alone at night isn’t wise. Here,” he holds out his hand, dropping something into your basket. 

You grab it, a small pouch resting between your fingers. 

“It is a charm. They will still be able to roam around you, but won’t be able to touch you. It’s important that you keep this on you at all times, even when you’re resting. Do you understand my words?” 

“Yes, but-“ 

“Good,” his eyes flick between yours, thoughts unknown to you. “I cannot stay any longer, unfortunately. We will meet again when time allows it, and I’ll tell you more. It was nice to see you again.” Again? He moves around you, turning down another aisle. You follow his steps, rounding the corner and stop. It’s as if he’s disappeared into thin air, leaving you alone with your now silly basket full of garlic. 

You sit it on the side, a light breath falling from your lips. You tuck the small bag of whatever it may be deep into your pocket, grabbing the items you actually need from the basket and walking up to self-checkout. The store is oddly quiet, a few workers here and there far away from where you are. You scan your items quickly, tossing them into a bag and leaving the store. Your home is only a few steps away from the store, but you walk swiftly. Hand gripping the small bag the man just gave you. 

Who was he, exactly? He knows you somehow, knows a bit about your relationship – for lack of a better word – with the strange group of men. You’ve learned nothing from his words except that garlic does nothing but make vampires laugh in your face. Well, at least he saved you from a moment of embarrassment. You walk up the steps to your condo, typing in the code and entering the elevator. You let out a sigh of relief as the doors close, until a foot stops them. 

“My apologies, this elevator takes a bit too long to get to the fifth floor, and I’d rather not wait for it to come back down.” 

“Oh, no problem at all-“ Your eyes flick to the man who just entered, eyes widening. Yunho stands there, hand outstretched to hold it open for the next person. Mingi walks it just as the door begins to shut, leaning against the wall. They wear similar clothing to the man you spoke to in the market, though only black hats covered their hair, masks tucked away. 

You try to walk forward but Yunho blocks your path, doors sliding shut. 

“Fuck me,” you mutter to yourself, glancing between the both of them. Yunho holds that same small smile on his lips, resting his body against the wall to your left. Mingi sits against the right, eyes on you. He pulls his hat off his head, letting his hair rest in messy waves against his cheeks. You hold the small pouch in your hand tightly, trying to come up with anything that can get you out of this situation. “Not a day goes by when you don’t leave me alone.” 

“It’s been, hmm, how many days Mingi?” Yunho looks at the man in front of him. “Ah, I know! Five days since the concert. That’s plenty of time away from us pestering you.” 

“What do you want from me?” You ask, fingers almost digging into the pouch. Mingi’s eyes flick to your pockets, before looking at you. 

“You were speaking to someone at the market.” 

“Am I not allowed to have conversations now?” You retort, frown on your lips. Was that why the man looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation? You’ve tried not to show your fear around them, and other feelings you’d rather not acknowledge at this point. But this stalking that they’re doing only leaves you on edge. The only thing you can do is watch your back and even that hasn’t been working out well. 

“Not with them,” Yunho says, the elevator lurching as it rises. You’re on the top floor, so you’ll be in it for a while. With them. Your luck is only getting worse as time goes by. “They aren’t people you should associate with.”

“I don’t even know him, what makes you think I’ll continue to meet him at random places? Do you believe that I want to be bothered while I’m shopping?” 

Mingi snickers. “Even if it wasn’t us, I’m sure someone would’ve stopped you. No one shops for garlic in bulk.”

Your face warms at his words. So much for being off the hook. 

“They’re like us, rose. They’re not going to stop bothering you until they have you. It is what we do. Our kind, does.” He moves a bit closer to you, but you press yourself against the wall as much as you can. “I just wanted to smell you.”

You furrow your brows. “Thanks? But I’m pretty positive I showered today.”

“It is not that, yn,” he moves closer, but stops. Mingi glances at the things you’re holding, hands tucked in your pockets, before his eyes flick back up to your face. “He gave you a charm.” Yunho’s smile slips at the words. “And you accepted it.”

“Oh Hell,” Yunho curses, running his fingers through his hair. “Fucking Hell.”

“Why would you accept a charm, yn?” Mingi insists, anger in his eyes. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

“Keep you away from me, that’s for sure.”

“No, you-” He holds back his words, moving to the opposite wall. “That isn’t a protection spell against us. That doesn’t stop us from getting close to you. As you can see,” he waved his hands around. “We’re completely fine being in a confined space with you. That won’t do anything to stop us from touching you if we’d like. That charm that Subin handed you, it’s a gift. From a vampire.”

His words are going over your head, your hands still gripping the pouch. Nothing he has said convinces you that you should let go of it, especially with how angry he is. And they have yet to touch you, so it might be working. But that name… it’s familiar. You just can’t quite recall from where. 

“What Mingi is saying is, that little bag he has given you is not a blessing. Charms like that are created to keep track of where humans may be. We give them to ones that we desire so that we cannot lose sight of you, no matter where you are. Subin gave you that charm so that he knows where you are, at all times. It does the opposite of keeping you safe. You have to willingly give it up so we can help you.”

“Help me how?” Your hold on the bag is looser now as you hear his words. What can you believe? The words of a complete stranger, or theirs? From people that are following you, watching you wherever you go? “Why should I believe you?”

Yunho’s hand brushes against your wrist, cold. He doesn’t linger long, enough to prove his point. But your body is still shivering, goosebumps across your skin. It’s oddly gentlemanly despite the circumstances, only touching you as long as he needs to. Your eyes flick to his face, noticing how his eyes are shut, swallowing deeply. 

“Now do you understand?” he whispers, lids flicking open to meet yours. His pupils are blown out, gaze still on yours. “It does not affect us.”

“Then why do you look like you’re in pain?” 

His lips raise in the corner at your question. “That is not pain, rose. That is the complete opposite.” He moves back from you, eyes still on your pocket. “As long as you have that on you, it will help them keep track of you. As of right now, they know where you reside. It’s unfortunate, but the scent will linger even if you let go of the charm at this very moment.”

“How long?”

“Hm?” his brow raises.

“How long will the scent linger? How long will they know where I am?”

Mingi clears his throat. “At least a month, but it can be more depending on how they created that charm. So it may last from a month to months at a time. Right now you are safe because we are here, but when we leave you will be vulnerable. I apologize for not stepping in sooner when I saw Subin with you,” his words are rough as he says it, shaking his head. “I did not fulfill my duties of protecting you. But I can, now. It’s not something you’ll like-”

“You will not be staying with me.” You say sternly, moving your hands from your pocket. “I’m not letting any of you in my home.”

“Then what would you like us to do? Leave you on your own while someone from their clan comes and takes you away in the night? Perhaps kill you to get back at us? Is that what you desire?” Mingi’s words are harsh, but it isn’t a lie. You know that now. Despite your stubborn nature and the idea of them being anywhere near you while you’re sleeping bothering you, you say the last thing you’d ever say.

“Can I stay with you?” You ask softly, eyes to the floor. “... I didn’t want any of this, you know. This involvement in your lives, whatever it may be. I didn’t want it. I wanted to go back to the bookstore, live a normal, mundane life. So if that dream means staying with you a few months to get back to normal, then…” You hate this. You hate having to rely on people you barely know because you did something stupid. Here you are, gaze moving between two strangers that are entwined in your life, asking for a place to stay.

“We will never say no,” Yunho says, nodding slowly. “We have enough room for you. You’re not an inconvenience I assure you.”

“If this is a scheme of yours, I’ll beat your ass Yunho. You too, Mingi. I don’t care how angry you look at me. Ass will be kicked.”

He chuckles, absence of malice. “I won’t do anything unbecoming to you.”

You nod, explaining to them that you need to pack a few things before going, leaving them outside your door as you gather up belongings. What you don’t notice is the quick look exchanged between them. The odd smile resting on Yunho’s lips.

-

“It isn’t a lot,” Yunho says, hands tucked in his pockets as he walks up to the home. “But it’s enough for all of us. Each room has its own bathroom, so you wouldn’t have to share with anyone else. And I know it may be unpleasant to live in a house with all men, but we all stick to our own rooms majority of the time. Common areas are cleaned thanks to the service that comes twice a week. I know this situation is not ideal in the slightest, but I can only hope you are comfortable.”

You don’t respond to a word he says, eyes on the building in front of you. Not home, building. It’s the biggest home you’ve ever seen in person. You’re not sure why you expected them to live in a shared apartment - and now that you think about it, a popular band wouldn’t be in a small rat infested place - but this. The home in front of you, vines scaling the walls. Entrance hidden by massive foliage in the front. It’s in the heart of the city but it doesn’t feel like it at all. You hold your small backpack close to your body, chest tightening. You’re one hundred percent in over your head. 

“I know this may be overwhelming,” Yunho says, leaving Mingi to walk in first. “So if this brief transition is too much for you to bear on your own, I’m always willing to speak to you about it. The others don’t say it, but I am a great listener.”

“Is that so?” your words are low, barely heard over the windy night.

“It is. I’m not sure which room you’ll pick, but it’ll never be too far for you to speak to me. Are you ready to enter?”

He turns to the door. Without thinking, you grab his shirt, stopping him in his steps. You let go, apologizing quickly. “I just… do the others know I’ll be staying here?”

A sheepish look crosses his face. “Most do. A few don’t, but we will speak to them when you’re a bit settled. It won’t disrupt anything, surely. They won’t be angry at your presence.”

“Who didn’t you tell?”

He says nothing, avoiding your gaze.

“Yunho.”

You see his fist clench and unclench, eyes closed. “You can’t possibly know what that does to me.” his eyes move to you, sliding down to your lips. “Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang. They are the few that don’t know you’ll be staying with us. But as I said before, you’ll be fine. If anything, I’ll make sure of it.” His gaze lingers on you, words silent between the both of you. But your heart only races as he keeps his gaze on you. 

You’re not sure if you like the feelings that roll around in your chest when you’re with them. You’re supposed to be afraid, terrified. And here you are, gaze moving away from him. 

“I’ll show you your room,” Yunho says, your stride close behind.

-

"She is here? In our home?" San's eyes flick to the back of the home, nose flared. He sits next to Wooyoung, his eyes shut as he rests against San's thigh. "Why can't I smell her then?"

"Mingi masked her scent. To shield her from Subin he needed to,” Yunho sighs, “Don't give me that look. You know it's the only way to protect her from them."

"There are several ways to protect her, that just so happens to be one of them," Hongjoong holds his cup between his fingers, blowing slightly to cool down the temperature. The others grow silent at Hongjoong’s interruption, knowing that he rarely does unless there's something pertinent to handle. "This isn't how I wanted her to become ours, but it seems like we don't have much of a choice right now. But we all know that the charm cannot wear off in a month. What will be our excuse once that time passes?"

"We convince her to stay," Wooyoung says. "As we always have. Charm her."

"The rose of the sea isn't easily charmed, Wooyoung. We all know that," Yeosang murmurs, leaning against a pillar. "And she doesn't have the same interest in us as she did a few hundred years ago. The others might have gotten to her first–"

"Not completely,' Yunho interrupts. "Despite her wariness she trusts our words. At least trusts them enough to not run away. We've proven that to her we are the solution to her problem with Subin and the others. But we are walking a fine line. She's strong-willed, as she has always been. We can't let any of us slip, not even for a moment. It will break the bond we have."

“What bond is there to break when there’s not one in the first place?” Yeosang raises his brow. 

 "You lot are quite loud," Jongho walks into the room, tossing his workout bag next to the entrance. He crouches down, slipping on his shoes. "I'll be shocked if she didn't catch wind of your words. These walls are thin." He gets up, throwing his bag against his shoulder. "So I presume that there will be no concert tonight?"

"Oh there will," Hongjoong says softly. "But someone has to stay behind and make sure she doesn't poke her head into anything nefarious. Yeosang–" he looks at him. "You're not playing tonight, correct? Would you be able to keep watch?"

Yeosang’s face twitched slightly, but he nods. "It will be uneventful, so I have no issues with it."

"Perfect. Then we continue on with what we’ve been doing. Feeding after concerts, growing our bond with her. Eventually, she will not want to leave. And we’ll have her once again.” Hongjoong grabs his sticks, tucking them in his pocket. “I’ll see the rest of you there.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Wooyoung says once he leaves, looking at the others left over. “She doesn’t particularly like any of us.”

“She will,” Mingi shrugs, leaving after Hongjoong. The rest pop out one by one, Yeosang and Wooyoung the last. Wooyoung drags himself off the couch, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Take care of our girl.”

-

Mingi and Yunho left you to explore the room on your own, the door closing behind them. You drop your one bag on the floor, looking around. For a room that doesn’t have an occupant you thought it would be barren. But instead, trinkets and almost historical-looking objects are scattered around the room. Many look too old for you to dare touch. Are they interested in artifacts? Most things on the walls are paintings, maps enclosed in glass. You move close to one of the artworks. It’s a ship, abstract in its outline. It’s intriguing, even if you don’t quite know the parts of it. You continue to roam, a jewelry box sitting on the dresser. Your fingers brush against the wood in front of the jewels. Somehow, you know that it doesn’t belong to any of them. The curiosity of what’s inside swirls in your mind, but you move away from it.

They said this room doesn’t belong to anyone. But as you take it all in, you feel like it does. A part of you is afraid that it’s for you.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. It couldn’t… it might be. You swallow slowly, sitting on the edge of your bed. You’ve made a rash decision, a panicked one. Staying in the home of people you barely know isn’t something that you do. You can’t even imagine having a one night stand. The idea of even couch-surfing terrifies you. Your hands dig into the comforter beneath you. But there was no choice. Subin, Hanse, and whoever else are after you. You don’t know anyone that could help. So you continue to tell yourself that everything is okay, purposely avoiding the red flags. Well, your parents always told you that you craved adventure. Perhaps this is the first step. You snort, gaze moving to your backpack.

Why the Hell did you think that one bag was okay?

-

You peek out the bedroom door. The hallways are quiet. The two told you that they had another show tonight and would leave you to your own devices. You planned on walking around and taking note of the exits despite the creepiness of it all. You step out, shutting your door quietly behind you. The hallway is rather large, several rooms across from one another. A quick guess is that the majority of their bedrooms are in this hallway. After another moment of silence, you walk casually around, glancing to make sure they’re gone. No one greets you, so you walk down the hallway. The light from the kitchen shines once you step inside, the room itself probably the size of your whole apartment. You take slow steps, opening the fridge. Surprisingly, food lines the shelves, ingredients staring back at you. The thought of vampires cooking makes you chuckle. Your stomach growls as you stare at the food. After a quick look over, you grab a yogurt and close the door. 

“That will be your dinner for tonight?”

You jump, quickly turning around. Yeosang sits at the island, hands folding in front of him. He’s wearing sleepwear, dark blue satin covering most of his skin. There’s a few loose buttons from the top, some of his chest shown. To his left sits a book lying flat on the marble, tabbed. He tilts his head at you, gesturing to the yogurt in your grip.

“We have plenty of food. There’s no need to limit yourself.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Are you sure? Or would you like to mention the sound that I just heard moments ago?” A teasing smile rests on his lips when he sees you frown. “I apologize for not being able to cook anything for you myself, I’m not the greatest when it comes to preparing meals.”

“Neither am I,” you murmur, taking one of the instant soups sitting on the counter and pouring hot water into it from the kettle. “The last time I cooked something for myself I burned my new pot. Had to buy another one.” You’re sure the burnt pot still sits on the top of your cabinets, a reminder of the sins you’ve committed on the stove. 

“That’s a new one,” he chuckles, grabbing his book. “Then I’ll be sure to be in the kitchen every time you are.” 

You say nothing else, leaning against the counter as you wait for your soup to be ready. Yeosang says nothing either, engrossed in the text in front of him. 

“You’re not performing with the others.” 

“That’s correct,” he flips the page. 

“You’re not babysitting me, are you?” You frown. It wouldn’t make sense for them to let a stranger roam around their home, but it’s not like you need someone watching you. What are you going to do, run? They’d probably find you quicker than it’ll take you to run away. 

His brow raises, gaze flicking to yours. “You’re anything but a child, yn. And I’m not the babysitting type. I have a day off from performing today so I’ve stayed home. And I was told as I walked through the door that we have a guest. That’s all,” his eyes moved back to the book. “But from your cooking habits I don’t think I’ll be leaving this kitchen anytime soon.” 

“Haha,” you roll your eyes, peeking inside the soup. It’s still not finished yet, but your mouth already waters at the smell. A question still lingers on your mind, one you can’t help but ask. “Why do you have food?” 

“We do eat, love,” he shakes his head. “It just doesn’t sustain our lives. It is like…” he thinks for a moment. “Sweets. They won’t help humans live in the long run, but they are a tasty snack every now and then. And I do like it when humans have a bite before we feed." There’s a smile on his face when he thinks about it, eyes moving to yours. “But you, you’re a bit of a strange human. Not that I expect you to be anything less, but still odd.”

“Why?”

“Each time we mention that we drink blood, you’re not terrified. Do you not find that the least bit odd?” He stands, placing his book to the side. You give it a quick glance, Bram Stoker written on the side. He slides over the island with ease, landing on his feet lightly and opening the cabinet in front of you. You try to move to the side to give him room, but he places his hand on the counter to your left, trapping you there. You hold your breath as he opens it above you, bodies barely an inch apart. He grabs whatever he needs, slowly placing it on the counter. Your eyes stay on his, his gaze moving down to look at you.

Your chest rises and falls as he keeps your gaze, his brow quirking. With barely a breath between you, his eyes flick to your lips. He leans forward, lips next to your ear. “Your ramen is going to get soggy if you just stand there, love.” He pulls away, taking the container and walking back to his spot. 

Without the support of the counter behind you you’d probably melt into the floor. You turn around, taking the ramen in your hands and placing it on the island. You slowly slide into the seat, his focus back on his reading. You take your chopsticks, slowly eating the soup. He opens his box of crackers, taking a bite as he flips another page.

You eye his outfit, “Do you sleep?”

His lip quirks. “As much as you do.”

“At night?”

“Anytime we’d like. The sun tires us but as does the moon. It doesn’t hurt us but it does slow us down quite a bit. And that’s where sleep comes in.”

“Eating without me?” 

You turn to the newcomer, a soft sigh falling from Yeosang’s lips. He doesn’t look up from his book, continuing to read. Wooyoung wraps his arm around his shoulder, a pout on his lips. He’s wearing a similar outfit from when you first saw him; thick, studded choker covering his neck, dark sweater with scattered holes across it, jeans with holes all over. He rolls up his sleeves as he looks at you, head tilted.

“I was going to make you something, rose,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to the soup. “Couldn’t wait?”

“Didn’t know I’d have company,” you say, taking a sip of the broth. “From anyone, not just you.”

“Likewise,” Yeosang says, glaring at Wooyoung’s arm wrapped around him. “You’re supposed to be performing with the rest. Who replaced you?”

“Mingi said he’d take over bass tonight~ Told him I wasn’t feeling well,” Wooyoung giggles. “He wasn’t too happy since he didn’t practice the set, but no one would notice. Most of them don’t even know the songs anyway,” he rolls his eyes, flicking to yours. “Like someone we know.”

You frown, taking another sip of your soup. “Do you ever wish that you could go back in time? Might have refused to go to the club if I had the chance.”

“That’s mean,” Wooyoung shakes his head. “You’d lose the chance of seeing us again. Why would you want to do that?”

“You keep saying that-”

“-Because it is true, love,” Yeosang places his book to the side, resting his head on his folded hands. “You might not believe us, but somewhere in your heart you know it’s the truth. Why continue to deny it? Just because you do not remember your previous life doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.”

“You say that I’m your Rose,” you start, staring at the bowl in front of you. “But there’s nothing that tells me that I am. You want me to believe it but I can’t. I’m more of a see it to believe it woman. Not the other way around. I can’t just agree to your words because you think they’re true. It doesn’t work that way for me.”

“We can show you,” Yeosang says. Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise but Yeosang waves him off. “It’s… it isn’t something that may be apparent at first. But the memory that I’ll show you will be explicit. I want to have your consent before I give it to you.”

“Explicit…” your gaze flicks between the both of them. Yeosang’s face is unreadable, a worried one on Wooyoung’s. It’s different compared to his previous demeanor, teeth biting his lower lip. “In what way?”

“We’re in the middle of having you. I would… show something else. But that’s the only one that has both Wooyoung and I in it. If that won’t make you believe, I’m not sure anything will. But again, I would like your consent before we reveal it to you. The vision won’t finish until you...” He trails off. 

“Yeo…” Wooyoung nudges him. “He told us not to show her anything anymore. She has to believe us on her own. It isn’t… it will make him angry.”

“He’s at the venue. I doubt it will upset him if he doesn’t know about it.”

Wooyoung looks nervous at his words, eyes flicking to yours. As if he’s pleading for you to say no. And you should say no. But of course, curiosity will linger if you don't. If it makes Wooyoung nervous for you to see it, for Hongjoong to be upset… wouldn’t that be beneficial to you? Maybe he will be angry enough to leave you alone, grow to dislike you so that you’re no longer bothered? It has a small chance of working, but you’d take those chances over none. So you nod, standing. 

“Let me see the vision.”

-

Wooyoung waits outside the room, arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t dare enter, against whatever Yeosang is going to do. Yeosang looks at a jewel sitting on the dresser, touching it lightly. It’s the same one that you looked at a few hours ago.

“This was yours from your father. Back then, you never parted from it. No matter what time or circumstance it was always on your self one way or another. You lost it once, and it was rough for you. You didn’t speak to anyone, only searching for countless hours on every crevice of the ship. You feared that it fell overboard until you found it in one of the mates’ rooms. I’ve never seen you so angry before. You grabbed his shotgun and killed him with it.”

“She killed him over a jewel?”

“You,” he says softly. “You did. Your father died when you were young and he planned on selling it for gold. Of course there were better ways of dealing with circumstances like that, but we didn’t punish you for killing him. It was a betrayal. After that night, Wooyoung and I wanted to comfort you. There wasn’t much that we could do because you were so distraught, so we spent  the night with you. And of course, you asked for us to help you forget it for a moment. And we obliged as best we could.”

“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” Wooyoung says from the doorway, arms still resting against his chest. “As I think about it now, I think we should have refused. But that night… It was special. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, we grew closer after that.”

“We loved you, rose,” Yeosang says softly, taking the jewel in his hands. He holds it out to you to touch, hands trembling slightly. “And we still do. If it takes your whole human life, we will do anything for you to adore us as much as we do. You don’t have to touch it if you don’t want to. Take your time to decide.”

Neither of them say anything else, waiting again for your choice. The plan in your head is crumbling at their words. Either their amazing manipulators, or they’re telling the truth. The gem stares at you. It is beautiful that you can tell. And it looks old, a light layer of dust coating it.

“This isn’t you using abilities on me, is it?” You ask, and Yeosang shakes his head.

“We do nothing to manipulate your memories. Everything that you see from back then was true.”

“Do you promise?” It means nothing, but you want to hear it.

“That I do.”

You suck in a breath, your fingers touching the gem.

“Rose, this isn’t a wise plan,” Yeosang says, breathless against your lips. You pull him closer, fingers digging into the loose curls at the base of his neck. “You will regret this, my love.”

“I will never regret being with you, Yeosang,” you say softly, breaking away from his lips. Your gaze moves to Wooyoung standing in the corner of the room. You lift your blouse, corset already fallen to the side. Said man averts his eyes, Yeosang rolling on top of you. He holds himself up, eyes still on yours. 

“What a gentleman,” your lips curve into a smirk, lids heavy. “Unfortunate that I’m not looking for anything of the sort tonight. Wooyoung, if you’d be kind,” your eyes move to him again. He takes slow steps to you, his bandana loose against his forehead. He stands at the edge of the bed, nervously glancing at Yeosang. “It might take two to make me forget tonight.”

Yeosang groans, shaking his head slowly. “You are a temptress. Captain will be distraught when he hears that you’ve laid with both of us and not him.”

“Ah, and isn’t that a pity for him? It is his fault that he wasn’t the first man I saw,” you slowly slide your slacks down your legs, both of the men’s gazes following the path. You laugh at their expressions, left in your underwear. Wooyoung lifts his shirt up with ease, his pants gone within the blink of an eye. Yeosang stays in his, although loose against his skin. You reach up to tug it off, but he takes your wandering hand, pressing his lips against the fingertips. 

“There is no rush. As long as you want us, you will have us. We have all of the night to please you,” he leans forward, kisses pressed against your neck. They’re light and tender, each touch making your heart speed up. Wooyoung takes this chance to maneuver onto the bed, lifting your body slightly so that he rests beneath you. His hands wander along your body, cupping your breasts. He squeezes, a low moan falling from your lips.

“You always sound so pretty for me,” he murmurs against your head, one hand traveling lower, lingering along the lining of your lace. His large hand dips underneath, cupping you. He wastes no time in dipping a finger between your folds, rubbing your clit. Your body jumps at his touch, Yeosang pulling the rest of the fabric off of you with his teeth. His kisses travel up your leg, landing underneath where Wooyoung slowly rubs. His gaze remains on yours as his tongue dips inside of you, your hands gripping the cotton sheets. 

“Fuck,” Wooyoung whispers into your ear, breath shuddering. “I’d bet you’d look so beautiful underneath me. Look at you, we’ve barely touched you and you’re already a mess.”

“Yeosang…” you mumble, hips rocking against his tongue. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you in place as he eats you out. His tongue rolls over Wooyoung’s fingers, a moan vibrating against you. Wooyoung moves lower, two fingers pushed inside you with ease. Your legs tremble against both of them, rutting against their movements. 

You let go of the stone, body warm from what you’ve witnessed. Yeosang’s hand is holding yours to steady you. You look into his eyes as he watches you, expression worried. You pull out of his hold, rubbing your face. You feel a light beat where there shouldn’t be right now, gaze unwillingly moving to Wooyoung’s. 

“Not an illusion?” You ask, eyes flicking to theirs. They both shake their heads, Yeosang placing the stone back on the shelf. “What does this mean, then?”

“It means,” Wooyoung starts, “That this is the first step to believing in us. We don’t want to manipulate you, yn. That’s the last thing we want. We want you to believe our words to be true.”

“Why? I mean, if past lives are true, why? What’s the point of having me back into yours again?”

“Our reasoning is selfish,” Yeosang says, eyes still on the jewel. “Our departure from our lives with you have haunted us for hundreds of years. Your death was not a peaceful one.”

“That’s enough.” Hongjoong stands at the door, hands tucked in his pockets. The others stand just behind him. You didn’t realize how much time has passed since they’ve left, assuming that it would take longer for them to come back. He walks into the room, eyes on Yeosang. He steps away from the dresser, not meeting Hongjoong’s gaze. Wooyoung has already disappeared from the doorway. “We said we will not mention anything else until all of us are here and ready. How dare you go behind our backs and speak to her?”

“I…”

“You?” Hongjoong moves closer. Despite the slight height difference, Yeosang seems to shrink underneath his “captain’s” gaze. “It seems like you were quite busy while we were gone?” He phrases it like a question. “The rest of you may leave.” The others disappear in an instant, leaving you, Yeosang, and Hongjoong alone. The heaviness of his question settles in you. 

“Did you show her the night you spent with her?” Hongjoong asks. Yeosang nods, keeping his eyes to the floor. “That was against the rules.”

“I’m sorry,” Yeosang says softly. “She was curious about the past, but I should have waited until everyone was home so we could speak together. It’s my fault for even suggesting the thought.”

“That it is,” Hongjoong agrees. Yeosang falls to his knees, closing his eyes tightly.

“Do what you must to punish me.”

Hongjoong takes a step forward, but you move from your spot, stepping in front of Yeosang. Your eyes stay on Hongjoong’s, blocking him from view. “You’re not punishing anyone. I wanted to know, this isn’t his fault. If anything, it’s mine.”

Hongjoong watches you silently, gaze eerily still on yours. You feel Yeosang’s head rest against your calf, a shudder breath tickling your skin. His hands touch your ankles, holding himself up from falling flat on the floor. But you remain still, unyielding against Hongjoong. He blinks, eyes flicking down.

“You may leave, Yeosang. I would like to speak to her alone.” 

His hold on you stays for a brief second more before he lets go. You hear his get to his feet, another sorry falling from his lips. Yeosang moves around Hongjoong, eyes moving to yours for a brief moment before he leaves the room. You try to catch his gaze as he leaves but Hongjoong steps in your line of sight. He cocks his head, eyes narrowed. Whatever Wooyoung fears of him makes you a bit scared as well. He’s their leader, that you’ve gathered. So you don’t want to get on his bad side. And even with knowing all of that, you can’t help but scoff.

“Oh?” His brow raises at the sound, his eyes flick over your figure. He moves back, hands still tucked in his pockets. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

A small smile crosses his lips. “Would you like a list?”

“What were you going to do to him? He looked…” You can still feel his hands trembling against your legs, breaths quick. “Why do they even stay with you when you punish them this way?”

His smile shifts. “You don’t even remember who I am, or how I was. And you haven’t the slightest idea what I was going to do to him. So let’s not assume the worst from me. I am not what you’ve made up in that head of yours. Yeosang has his own issues to sort out on his own. I’d never punish him, I just scolded him.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. Ask him for yourself if you’d like. But after we speak for a brief moment,” he glances at the open door. “Based on what you’ve seen, do you believe us now?”

You don’t want to entertain him anymore after what you’ve just seen, anger still in your body. But continuing to talk about it will just lead to a moot point. “I don’t know,” you admit, glancing around the room. “If you were in my position would you?”

“Believe eight strangers that tell me they drink blood and I’m their reincarnated lover?” He shrugs, “Perhaps. But they’d have to be convincing enough. I was angry at Yeosang because I wanted you to gradually learn about us, my sea. Giving you all of this information at once will only confuse you more. That is why I didn’t want the two of them showing you that,” his eyes flick to the jewel resting on the shelf. “That does nothing but makes you think that we’re manipulating you. You haven’t the slightest idea about us, and they’re showing you intimate moments?” He sighs softly, shaking his head. 

“What do you suggest then?” You ask, foot taking a step back. His eyes flick to your movement, before looking at your face. 

“I want you to not be afraid of me.”

“And how will you do that?”

He purses his lips, humming. “Quite a conundrum. You’re already afraid, have been since we’ve met. But I’m not too sure why.”

“Not sure? You scare the others, Hongjoong. Yeosang walked out of here fearfully. And I see how they interact with you. They don’t want to betray your trust so they tiptoe around you. I’ve barely been here and I can see it.”

“There’s a fine line between fear and respect. They do not fear me. They respect my position as the head of this home. What they fear is not me, but what will happen if they break my trust. No one under this roof needs to be afraid when I will not hurt them. I love them all, they’re my family. I would mourn if anything ever happened to any of them. Including you,” he smiles softly. “When we saw you in our club we thought it might be you. But it was possible that you just had the face of our former lover. But when you touched the necklace, we knew then. You were her. You don’t remember what you said back then, but you promised to come back to us. You promised that you would remember. My beautiful sea,” he takes a step to you, matching the ones you take back. Your back hits the wall. You hold your hand out, and he stops right against it. Your hand touches his shirt. He slowly places his hand on top of yours. Oddly, it’s warm. 

“You’re not cold,” you utter, eyes widening. He tilts his head.

“Did you expect anything different?” His fingers slowly wrap around yours. 

“The others, they’re cold to the touch. But you,” his hand guides yours up his chest, resting against the spot where his heart would be. It beats against your fingers, picking up the pace as your hands linger there. “Your heart beats.”

“Because, my sea, I am not like the others,” his hand drops, but yours stays there as he looks at you. His burgundy pupils soften. “I am a vampire, yes. But I live, breathe. It feels like I’m a human sometimes. I am both grateful and burdened with that fact.”

“How…?”

“I am the first,” he murmurs. “The first of our kind, my love. The first vampire ever created.”

Your hand shakes as you hold it against him still. He watches your face as he speaks. “I was cursed thousands of years ago. Cursed to live this life of constant suffering. I’m able to be injured, able to breathe and feast on normal food. But I am dependent on blood. It keeps me alive in this immoral state. I bleed as do you,” he murmurs, his hand lifting. It rests against the curve of your face, thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. “I just do not grow old. Hundreds of years ago, after losing people that I cared for over and over again, I decided that I shouldn’t be alone. That I needed a family.”

“You … you made the others like this. Like you.”

He nods slowly. “It was a selfish endeavor. Seonghwa was the first. I thought he would be the same as I, I thought that he would be warm-blooded. But he turned, and he was so cold. The flush of his cheeks disappeared, the warmth in his skin. He is still the same fundamentally, but he isn’t like me. The others aren’t like me. They can’t bleed, they aren’t warm. They’re as the stories say. I remained with my humanity when I was cursed so I could suffer everyday. But they had to learn. I had to teach them about humanity again. It was a long process.”

“But they were warm, Hongjoong. On the ship, they were warm. I felt it,” you insist. “I felt it.”

“Yes, you did. That’s because they were, at that time. They were my crew, and we ruled the ocean. We were feared by many. But on that boat was when I decided that they were to be my family. And they agreed.”

“Why would someone agree to a life like this? A life filled with killing humans, drinking their blood? Suffering years of being immortal? This isn’t right…” you shake your head, hand dropping from his chest. “You made them into these things.”

“We are not things. We are humans, just different. An evolution some may call it. But we are not creatures. I did not want to turn them at first, yn. I told Seonghwa about it as a joke, but he wanted it. He wanted to be with me forever. It was a pirate’s dream to live forever, sail the seas and be undefeated. I was so broken then, that I told him yes. I turned the others after him, but saw that they were not like me. It terrified me. But what was worse, was that they were feeding off of the crew members. And killing each one in the process. Soon, all we had left was you.”

It’s as if a rush of cold water just hit you. Hongjoong holds his face in your hand, shaking his head. “Listen-”

“You killed me.”

“yn, listen to my words.”

“All of you, you killed me,” you widen your eyes, grabbing his wrist. You shove his hands shaking your head. “You were so alone that you convinced seven men to be your family, and then you killed me!”

“We didn’t kill you!” His voice rises, but he closes his eyes. “Please. Listen to the rest.”

“What? Did I choose to be in your family too?”

Hongjoong stares at you, swallowing softly. You furrow your brows, waving him off. “I did not choose that, Hongjoong. I know myself. I wouldn’t choose that. No.”

“You chose to become like us because you had no one. You were alone just like I was. Just like we all were.”

“No, Hongjoong.” You hold your head in your hands, shaking it. Images start to appear in your head, things you’ve never experienced before. Flickers of ships, crew members. Blood staining your fingers. “Stop talking.”

“You loved us so much that you didn’t want to part. You agreed to it. You wanted to be with us forever.”

Jongho’s lips covered red, a body in his hands. “Stop talking.” 

He takes a step toward you, “We loved you back. We loved you as many stars are there in the sky, and wanted you to be happy. You were so sad, yn. You were always so sad and you wanted that feeling gone. We all thought this was the best route so we tried to turn you but your body rejected it.”

“Please,” your voice is soft, barely audible. Your legs aren’t able to support you anymore, falling to the floor. Hongjoong catches you just before, holding you steady in his arms. “I don’t want to hear anymore.” 

He hums a tune to you, holding you close to his body. The warmth you felt before is overwhelming now, your body getting hot as he keeps you against him. You push, hard, against his hold. He doesn’t expect it, your body falling to the floor as you try to get away. He reaches, but you stop him, shaking your head. 

Your gaze meets his, a pirate uniform staring back at you. Blood stains his white linen shirt as he stares down at you, hat thrown to the ship floors. The others stand behind him, their attire similar to his. He looks at you with concern, but you’re gasping, hands shaking as you stare at them. Red. Red between the nails, dripping onto the wood below. Flashes of red over and over again in your head. Screams echoing just behind it.

“I killed them,” you say through sobs, body trembling. “They were screaming and I killed them, Joong.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take a breath Sea-” 

“They were begging for their lives and I killed them!” You yell, desperately wiping your hands against the wooden boards. “I’m a killer. I’ve hurt innocent people. I won’t ever be forgiven. I can’t. I can’t be forgiven.” Your words begin to mix, thoughts taking over instead. You feel a cool hand touch your thigh and you jump back, turning to look at them.

Seonghwa looks down at you, wet streaks on his face. “You are not a murderer.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” you cry out, your hand covered in splinters with the way you’re dragging it across the wood. But it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, only frightening you more. “I’m a monster.”

“I’m a monster,” you say softly. Hongjoong’s eyes widened. Shock crosses his features as he looks at you. He looks worried, panicked. The most emotion you’ve ever seen out of him since you’ve arrived. “Am I a monster?” You don’t know if you’re asking him or yourself, your eyes glued to your hands. Your mind flickers between your unsoiled palms to the ones painted red. 

“No. Look at me yn, please,” Hongjoong doesn’t dare to touch you, keeping his distance. You look at him, eyes welling up with tears. “You are not a monster, you never were. We made a mistake, making you into one of us. We didn’t know how it would affect you and we’re sorry that we even attempted it on you. It was selfish. I was selfish, alright?”

You close your eyes as you listen to his words, desperate to separate a past memory from your reality. That woman wasn’t you. Sure, it was a life that your soul has lived centuries ago, but you are you now, not from before. You repeat these words over and over again, slowly pushing that memory away. Soon enough, it’s only a small echo in the back of your mind. You open your eyes again, gaze moving to your hands. The blood is gone now, your clear skin staring back at you. 

“yn-”

“Can you leave me alone?” Your voice is hushed, unable to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “Please, just give me time alone.”

“Okay.” You can see from the corner of your eyes him standing, leaving something behind as he exits the room. He closes the door, locking it behind him. Your breath shudders once you’re left alone. You touch your cheek, fingers trembling as you wipe the tears away. It was you. Despite everything, despite your reluctance, that was you. It wasn’t you, but it also was. Their words are true. Even though you from then and now are two completely different people, you felt everything that she did long ago. Felt how that coldness washed over you, how you weren’t yourself anymore. You don’t want to feel that ever again.

TAGS: @whatudowhennooneseesyou @glitterhongjoong @marievllr-abg @jenniiee-tm @atzcoke @honeyedtalisman @hongshines​ @atinytease​ 

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Can we get a Drabble or headcanons of modern day kratos and Atreus (platonically/motherly) spending their first Christmas with reader who loves Christmas and goes all out for the boys? Maybe they haven’t really celebrated it since Faye passed so it’s really special for the boy especially. I’m thinking going to see Christmas lights, decorating together, gifts, and hot cocoa - the works. Maybe reader takes Atreus to buy something for his dad from him. Idk I just really love feel good stories

A/n: this is the cutest fucking thing….I can’t even.

Also I’m doing both.

🎄: You love Christmas, it has always been a big thing with your family and since you’ve gotten into a relationship with Kratos you wanted to do something special for your top favorite boys.

🎄:Once December hits you take Kratos and Atreus out to grab a tree. You and Atreus are excited, running from tree to tree finding the perfect one. Kratos is a little apprehensive at first, this was Faye’s favorite holiday too so it’s a bit hard seeing another woman he’s come to love be excited over the same holiday.

🎄: Kratos slowly comes around to the idea when he see’s you and Atreus decorating the tree though he can do with out the others butting in on bonding between you and his son.

🎄: Sindri gets tons of pictures and posts them on the B&B website.

🎄: Kratos takes you on a sleigh ride with two of the wolf dogs { he leaves Fenri at home with Atreus. }

🎄: Later that night you, Atreus and Kratos going driving around the small town looking at Christmas lights and decorations.

🎄: Which leads to everyone decorating the B&B, Brok and Kratos going out of their way to make it the best out on the block.

🎄: So much hot coco! Everyone just loves your family recipe.

🎄: Big Family Christmas dinner.

🎄: Snowball fights! You, Atreus and Mimir end up on a team. You and Atreus pushing his wheelchair as he lobs snowballs

🎄: Atreus takes you shopping to find the perfect gift for his dad, you two end up having a heart to heart

🎄: Freyr setting up Mistletoe for you and Kratos.

🎄: SLEDDING! Kratos really yeets you and Atreus down the hill.

🎄:Tons of baking! Lots of cookies.

Turning to face Atreus you gave him a beaming smile which the boy returned. You were excited for this, Christmas getting closer and closer and while the nights were cold it was still nice spending it with the people you thought of as your family.

“Y/n…I.” Atreus was hesitant, he wanted to ask you something important but he didn’t want to scare you off. “I want to thank you, for everything you’re doing….Christmas it.” Sighing he lowered his gaze placing a glass ball on the tree. “It means a lot and.”

Shaking your head you stepped closer then pulled him in for a hug, the boy quickly wrapping his arms around you. “You don’t need to thank me Atreus, I’m doing this because you’re family. Because I care you and your father.

Blinking back some tears he looked up at you with a watery smile. “Then can I call you mom?”

Pinching his cheek you let out a laugh. “I couldn’t be more than happier Atreus.”

Watching from the hallways, Kratos did his best to not step forward. This moment was for you and Atreus though he couldn’t help but feel happy. After the passing of Faye he did not think he could he happy again, find a mother for his son yet here you were.

This was nothing short of a Christmas miracle.

[angelst4re]

Hi angel 💕 Could you write a counterfeit jamie smut where the reader used to be friends with benefits with him and he comes back to her town on tour and she ends up in his hotel room if you know what I mean 🤭I love you’re writing <3

hi lovely!! thank you so much!! im sooo sorry for making you wait so long THIS REQUEST IS LITERALLY FROM FEBRUARY??? i hope it's worth the wait :)

Addiction- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

warnings: NSFW!!! this contains smut so if that makes you feel uncomfortable then please don't read!! <3

notes: it's been a while... for the last month i've been so busy and when i haven't been busy i've been thinking about noah sebastian and/or cillian murphy (jamie i am sorry i'm in a hoe phase rn!!) but i also have a henry creel drabble to post tomorrow as well so keep an eye out for that :) ALSO I WANNA SAY A BIG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!! (p.s. this isn't proof read and i wrote this over the span of three weeks so i apologise for any mistakes!!)

When you received the message from Jamie telling you he’s playing a show in your city, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were out for lunch with two of your friends, who were questioning the wide grin on your face. 

“Oh, I just know she’s texting Matt again,” one of your friends smirked, eyeing you up, “are you ever going to meet up with him? You’ve been talking for almost 3 months?!”

“Oh, no, it’s Jamie. He’s playing here with his band next month, he wants me to come and see them. He’s sent two tickets, I could ask for an extra one if you wanted to come with me-”

“That’s perfect! You can ask Matt to come with you!” Your other friend suggested, although it came off as more of a demand. 

“But what if he asks about how I know Jamie? I couldn’t really explain that on a first date.” 

“Well, just tell him he’s a friend, maybe leave out the ‘with benefits’ part.”

“We stopped that a while ago, actually. I haven’t seen him for almost a year, we’re kinda just friends now.” 

“Then that’s your story sorted then,” your friend grinned, picking your phone up from the table and placing it in your hand, “now tell Matt he’s got a concert to go to.” 

You were surprised when Matt texted back, telling you he’s never heard of counterfeit before, but he’ll happily listen to them and come with you. You felt a little bad for lying to him, telling him you had no one else to come with you as your friends were working that weekend. 

On the evening of the show, Matt came to pick you up. You would’ve usually dressed quite casual for a concert, specifically one of Jamie’s, but this was also a date. You stepped out of your house wearing a black dress, comfortable shoes and a cute handbag to match the outfit. 

“You look amazing,” Matt said, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “let’s get going!” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That guy right there,” Matt shouted through the noise, pointing at Jamie, “is your friend?” His mouth was open in disbelief as you nodded your head. He had already had four beers, and you had only been here just over an hour. 

“Yeah, I met him at one of the restaurants I used to work at. It’s a funny story actually, some crazy fangirls were waiting outside for him to leave so I kinda helped him ‘escape’ through the back…” You trailed off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, his attention was elsewhere. 

“Cool, I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” 

You shook your head and watched as he disappeared off into the crowd. 

Your eyes were drawn to Jamie, reminiscing on the times you had spent together. The times your bodies were intertwined beneath the covers and the times you spent laughing together in the car. You missed him, it was truly like it was a ‘right person, wring time’ kind of situation. 

Time passed and passed and you realised Matt hadn’t come back yet. Surely the line wasn’t that long? You just assumed he had gone to the bathroom, especially after drinking that much. But another 15 minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, so you went to search for him. You assumed he wouldn’t have wandered far from the bar, so you were heading in that direction. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were pushed up against the hotel door, slamming it shut as his lips met yours. One of your hands found his hair whilst the other was grasping at his shirt, as if you were hanging on to him for your life. The familiar smell of his aftershave, mixed with cigarettes gave you a feeling of nostalgia, and it was as if you were experiencing deja vu. 

His hands were on your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher, until his cold hands met your bare hips. 

“Jamie,” you gasped, pulling back for air. As if he couldn’t take his mouth off you, his lips were now on your neck, kissing and nibbling the spot he knew would make your knees buckle. 

The last thing you expected tonight was to leave the show with the singer. With Jamie. But after you went to look for Matt, you caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat. A part of you felt sick, betrayed, but another part of you felt relieved. However, you would never admit that’s how you felt, especially not to your friends. 

Jamie had given you a backstage pass, and cleared it with security before the show. You knew how the night was going to end as soon as you received the text from him. 

“Why does this always happen,” Jamie asked rhetorically, against the skin of your shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses, “always end up coming back to you.” 

You smile at his words, it was true. The two of you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other when you were together. 

Before you could process what had happened, you were pushed against the table, and Jamie took your thighs, lifting you to sit on the edge of it as he got down to his knees. 

His kisses began at your ankle, and he looked up at you as they got closer and closer. Your calves, your knees and eventually your upper thigh. 

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed as he held your thighs open, one finger pushing your underwear to the side. 

He dragged a finger through your slick folds, earning a sigh from you as he grazed your clit. You looked down to see a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes briefly met yours before he placed a kiss over your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it as you dug your nails into the underneath of the wooden table you were sitting on. Jamie quickly noticed this, and the hand that was holding your legs open for him guided your hands back to his hair. 

“Shit.” You gasped as you felt a finger gently press into your entrance, his lips now wrapped around your clit, sucking and nipping at it. “M-more…” You managed to whisper. 

“That’s not how we ask for something, is it, darling?” Jamie teased, a devilish glint in his eyes as two of his fingers pressed into you, agonisingly slow. 

“Please,” you whimpered, “I need… I want more, please, Jamie.” 

Jamie chuckled, his thumb now replacing his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He stood back up, towering over you before leaning down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself as he did so. 

“I’ve missed hearing you beg,” he whispered, “come on, sweetheart, let go for me. I know you're close.” 

He was right. You swore he knew your body better than you did. 

You could feel the knot in your belly tightening, getting ready to snap at any moment. 

“You’re making such a mess, y’know that? My messy girl, can feel you dripping down my hand,” you could tell what he was doing, he was trying to push you to the edge, he knew what effect his words had on you, and he was taking advantage of that, “that’s it, angel. You can do it, cum for me.” 

And that did it. 

Your head was thrown back, your thighs trying to close around him as he continued to work you through your orgasm. The moans falling from your lips were muffled by his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

His fingers slipped out of you and he reached for your thighs, his slick coated fingers leaving your skin sticky as he pressed his body against yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed. 

As your back hit the mattress, he began to undress. You took off your ruined underwear before you reached for your dress, to slip it off, but he called out to stop you. 

“Hey, leave it on. It looks so fucking sexy.” He growled, unbuckling his belt to let his trousers fall to the ground. 

He kneeled on the bed and shuffled his way between your legs, holding them open for him as he leaned down to kiss you once again. 

“Jamie, please.” You whined, lifting your hips to try and get him to do something. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back, darling. It’s been a while since I’ve…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as you reach your hand between your bodies, palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

He grabs your wrists, his fingers digging into the skin sure to leave bruises for you to look back on in the days to come. 

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch, now, did I?” His eyes had darkened with need and lust, and the way his face twisted into a devilish smile made a whimper slip from your lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you baby. I knew all those years ago I had ruined you for any other man, this just proves it, hm?” 

With one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other one comes down to drag his thumb over your bottom lip, before you welcome him into your mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his thumb. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “keep your hands here, okay? I know you will, you’re my good girl, right?” 

You nod your head and manage to say a muffled ‘yes’ as his thumb presses down on your tongue as he uses his now spare hand to push his boxers down, letting his cock free from its restraints. 

He wastes no time, swiping his fingers over your slick, spreading it over his dick before pumping himself a couple times. His breathing is heavy as he lines himself up with you, your hips squirming as you wait for him to finally push in, but he takes his time teasing you beforehand. When the tip finally slips into you, you both let out a moan and his head falls forwards, buried where your neck meets your shoulder. 

It’s clear that neither of you have had any action lately, as you both need to take a moment before Jamie begins to move. You dig your nails into the pillow as he begins to slowly move his hips. 

His hand that was once over your mouth trails down and rests on your neck, applying a little pressure as your eyes fall shut. You feel how his cock slides into you, nudging spots inside you that made you shiver. He would pull back out until only the tip was left inside, before fucking back into you, getting progressively rougher. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” He said before leaning down to capture your lips with his. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your hands planted above your head as you melted into the kiss. You took advantage of the use of your legs, if you couldn’t touch him with your hands. 

One of Jamie’s hands slid between your bodies to find your clit again, using his thumb to try and bring you the edge, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. In the past, you and Jamie went maybe 2 or 3 rounds sometimes in one night. However, it was different tonight. You hadn't seen each other in a long time, let alone had sex. 

His pace began to quicken, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher. He buried his face in your neck once more and you couldn’t help but tangle your fingers into his hair, gently tugging on the blonde locks. 

“Shit,” he gasped, masked by a dark chuckle as he kissed your neck. 

“J-Jamie…” Your mind was too clouded by everything to even think about forming a proper sentence, but Jamie knew you and your body better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. 

You knew he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside you. Your grasp on his hair tightened as you felt your high getting closer and closer. 

“Inside.” Was the final word you managed to mutter into his ear before you came undone, your legs locking around him, making sure he wouldn’t pull out before you came down from your high. 

As you were beginning to catch your breath, your muscles relaxing as you lay there blissed out, felt him twitch in you once more, cumming inside you with a moan, followed by your name. You rocked your hips as he stilled inside of you, milking his cock of every last drop. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, follow by a chuckle as he smiled lazily down at you, “you don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

[ms-fandomgirl]

BBHG: Onigiri (Ch. 5)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 3,151

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Cross-posted on Ao3!

Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks. It doesn't get too out of control, but I wanted to let you know just in case. If you don't want to read it because of this, message me and I can send you a summary.

Onigiri - An extremely popular, portable food made from white rice formed into triangular or spherical shapes often wrapped in nori. Popular fillings within onigiri include tuna mayo, grilled salmon flakes, pickled plum, and salted cod roe.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Good Smelling Asshole: Had to pick up an extra patrol just now. Can’t meet for lunch. Sorry.

You frowned as you sent a ‘thumbs down’ that came straight from the heart. Three small gray dots appeared immediately after, followed by a gif of a crying baby. You knew he was calling you out for your inevitable pouting, but you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips at the sight.

“Oooh is someone texting a boy?” a voice teased over your shoulder. You jumped in surprise, clutching the phone close to your chest out of reflex. Hina cackled at your reaction, leaning against the wall in support.

“You’re so in trouble! I’m gonna tell mom,” she gasped out between laughs.

You rolled your eyes before shoving her shoulder. “If you tell mom, then I’m not sharing my onigiri with you for lunch.”

She immediately straightened at the offer of food, pushing off the wall to stand by your side once again. “I’m guessing room 3307 won’t have any visitors today?”

You shook your head. “Extra patrol shift. And you?”

Hina looked away at your question, eyes downcast. “I don’t know. He was just supposed to be gone for the weekend on a mission, but I haven’t heard anything yet. Not that I was expecting to hear anything once he got back, of course, but, well, you know-”

She trailed off, and you gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Then we’ll just have a long overdue girl’s lunch,” you said with finality.

Hina grinned at your statement, nodding in agreement before heading toward the break room door. “I’ll meet you at our regular spot in the park in a couple of minutes. I need to grab a jacket first.”

You followed her out of the door, turning left toward the elevators while she continued down the hallway towards the lockers. The park she mentioned was directly across from the hospital, a little block of nature within the towering skyscrapers and technology. It was well kept with a small pond and clean pathways, and you loved eating there when you had the time.

Stepping out of the hospital, you shivered as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck. Even though springtime was supposed to mean nicer weather, a cold front had blown in, and you were suffering the consequences. Despite this, the sun was shining, and you were determined to have a good time outside. It had been a while since you had been able to do this, after all. With Bakugou being himself, you now had lunches in room 3307 to avoid prying eyes, although you would privately consider this change in routine well worth it.

You nodded to a young sidekick on patrol as you waited at the crosswalk, idly watching as he passed. That was another change that had happened recently as well. Security had increased across the city, heroes and law enforcement set on edge as time continued to pass and the parade day villain continued to be at large.

Striking in dark alleys and empty streets, three more heroes had turned up unconscious, toxins flowing through their veins from a simple pinprick in their neck. The symptoms were getting worse too. One man was found in a pile of his own vomit, while another heroine continued to have sporadic seizures even within her comatose state.

The media outlets were calling him ‘Basilisk’ now, which you thought was a terrible idea. For one, that wasn’t even how basilisks worked. A basilisk paralyzed its victims by a single look, not by a shot to the neck. For another, and much more important reason, giving him a name meant giving people something to fear, and that fear meant power. You had seen this shift firsthand. The ICU: Quirk Related Injury unit had been busier than ever, as other villains took advantage of this paranoia to cause destruction and mayhem of their own.

You shuddered at the thought, almost rethinking your choice to eat in a public space as you crossed the street. However, the hesitance faded as you made it to the park, watching children play on the colorful playground nearby as you made your way down the path towards the pond. While there were some nice picnic benches set up along the way, you bypassed those in favor of a bench set slightly back into the woods. It was surrounded by trees, offering more privacy, and it had a beautiful view of the water making it your favorite spot.

You had just finished setting up your bento when Hina arrived. She rubbed her hands together, eyes glinting as she took in the assortment of onigiri before her. After several seconds of deliberation, she reached for one in the shape of a star with a slight dusting of sesame seeds on the top. She took a bite, humming in satisfaction as she tasted the spicy tuna mayo filling.

“How come you never made my lunches so cute?” she complained, holding up the star with the top point bitten off it. Before the madness of the villain attack had occurred, you often switched lunches with her.

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you picked up an onigiri yourself, this one shaped in a traditional ball. “You never graded them like you were Gordon Ramsay.”  

“Mhm, and I’m sure that’s the only reason too,” she said, tilting her head to give you a knowing look.

“Well, I always was an achiever child.” You raised your chin, pretending to flip your hair behind your back. “And I’m sure the reason you chose that jacket was because it’s your warmest?”

You eyed her choice of outerwear skeptically. The indigo letterman with white trim was swallowing her whole, yet she somehow managed to pull it off. On closer inspection, you noticed that the scrunchie in her hair even matched the color of the golden ‘S’ embroidered on the front left pocket. 

“Of course it is,” she huffed. “Why else would I wear it?”

You hummed low in your throat at her defense but said nothing else as you reached for another onigiri. If you teased her anymore, you knew she’d start spouting nonsense about a pot calling the kettle black, and you didn’t want to have to confront those thoughts yet. After all, Bakugou was just good-smelling asshole who you ate lunch with, nothing more to it.

Instead, you gazed out at the water, watching joggers dart by and children playing a game of tag off to the side. “It’s so peaceful here. You’d never guess anything was wrong.”

Hina nodded in agreement. She swallowed her food, taking her time to collect her thoughts before responding. “I think that’s how it should be; you know? Yeah, we shouldn’t be reckless, but we can’t let the fear of one person force us into hiding. In the end, that just makes him stronger.”

She chucked then, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, it’s one man within the whole of Tokyo city. There’s no way he can be everywhere at once. And with so many heroes around, the odds of something happening to us right now are close to zero.”

The world had a cruel sense of humor. 

The words had no sooner left her lips than a blood-curdling shriek cut across the water. You were on your feet before you had even pinpointed the location of the trouble. Scanning the surroundings, you froze as you saw a small group of people gathered around the playground on the far right of the pond. You began to run towards them, ignoring Hina’s calls from the bench.

A heavy weight sunk into your chest as you finally neared the group, the screaming now replaced with the frantic sobbing of a mother cradling her child to her chest. The girl was twitching violently, her mother using all her strength to keep her from accidentally injuring herself.

“What’s going on?” you gasped out, kneeling down beside the mother. She was hysterical, unable to get out a coherent word. Turning to the crowd, you desperately searched faces for an explanation, but they were in shock, a depressive silence encompassing them. You reached for the child to examine her closer, but the mother flinched away, cradling the girl closer to her chest.

A sharp demand formed on the tip of your tongue, but you repressed it, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation. The mother was beyond reason, and if the situation continued, the girl could sustain irreparable damage before you could help. 

Instead, you took a deep breath, activating your quirk. The scent of lavender began to waft through the air, growing in strength until the stench clung to everyone in your vicinity. Your breath was quickening from the exertion, heart rate picking up pace, but the girl’s tremors had lessened in intensity, and the mother finally began to take steadying breaths.

“She was just running around on the playground when she suddenly collapsed! I don’t know what happened. She was my perfectly healthy baby girl this morning,” she sobbed.

You leaned closer to the girl whose tremors had now finally subsided. You were about to sigh in relief when you noticed a slight foam begin to form at the corner of her mouth. In an instant, you grabbed her and turned her to her side, rubbing her back firmly. She shuddered as she heaved onto the ground, body going slack after emptying the contents of her stomach. However, her breathing had evened out, and you deemed her no longer at risk of choking on her own vomit.

At her peace, the mother once again reached forward, touching her child’s sweaty forehead before gently sweeping her blonde hair off her face. The relief you had felt vaporized in a second as a hard, cold fear replaced it. With shaky fingers, you reached forward until your hand gently cupped her head, tilting it so the sunlight could better illuminate her profile.

There, on the side of her neck, was a small pinprick the size of a needle.

After your discovery, things around you became a blur. You were aware of a voice projecting through a megaphone, the crowd parting, and the rattling of wheels against uneven pavement. You were aware that the girl was no longer in front of you, being wheeled away on the gurney. You were aware of the hushed words of praise thrown your way and the crowd beginning to disperse now that the disaster was over. Yet your heart continued to race in your chest, and you were still frozen in place, a cold sweat breaking out across your body.

“You did so well.”

A warm hand was placed on your shoulder, and the trance was broken. You looked up, giving a shaky smile to Hina as you got to your feet. The decision was a poor one, as your head immediately began to pound at the sudden movement, and you stumbled back a few steps. Hina reached out to steady you, but you waved her off, a wave of embarrassment hitting you now that you realized just how long you had been out of it.

“I hope I did enough. Her breathing evened out in the end, but she was in bad shape.”

You stretched your back, hoping to dispel the tension still coiled within your body. It didn’t work.

“We should probably head back.”

You turned to leave, but a hand caught your wrist. You turned back to Hina, noting the furrow in her brow as she spoke to you. “Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t you want to rest? I know you overused your quirk just now. I’d never smelled lavender so potently before.”

You sighed, shaking your head. You still had an uneasy feeling in the bottom of your gut, but you were sure that it would go away if you just checked on Chargebolt and your other patients. “I think I’ll feel better if I just get back. to work. Make sure everything’s settled, you know?”

Hina squinted at you, and you could tell that she, in fact, didn’t know. Nonetheless, she didn’t press further. Instead, she wordlessly followed you as you made your way back into the hospital and toward the ICU wing, pressing your bento box into your hands before parting ways.

You were standing in front of room 3307 before you realized you had even arrived, your mind still stuck in the park despite your best efforts. However, when you opened the door to the room, you were immediately sucked back into the present as a pair of ruby red eyes stopped you in your place, and the familiar smell of cologne wafted over you. He was in front of you in seconds, stance casual but eyes scanning you from head to toe. You looked at him in a similar manner, noting his hero costume and tousled hair.

“Are you okay?”

“How are you here?”

Your words tumbled together, questions asked at the same time. For once, Bakugou yielded first.

“I came as soon as I heard there was an incident near the hospital. Then the Doc told me that you and your friend were the ones involved, so I decided to wait around, just for curiosity’s sake.”

He smirked as he said it, attempting to bait you into action. All you could do was give him a weary nod in return, watching as his mouth dropped in concern at your lackluster response.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed again, but you dismissed his question with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Bullshit. Your hands are shaking, and your eyes are all glossy, like you’re about to start bawling.”  

You casually clenched your hands into your fists, but you’re sure he noticed under his scrutinizing gaze. To your chagrin, he was also right. Your hands were most definitely trembling. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before responding, but the air got stuck in your throat, and then you were choking.

You gasped for air, but you never seemed to be able to get enough of it. The panic that had been creeping around the periphery of your mind finally descended upon you, and you weren’t sure if the wetness on your cheeks was from your coughs or a final release of all the emotions you had been keeping in control of until now. It felt like your death was inevitable, whether from asphyxiation or from shame. You thought it would never end, your chest overflowing with that feeling of inescapable anxiety morphing into a dark looming presence threatening to consume you. 

Until another force fought back.

You were enveloped in warmth, head pressed against a hard chest and back rubbed by a pair of large hands. His words were hard to distinguish amid the midst of jumbled thoughts, but his breathing was steady. You latched on to it, attempting to copy the rhythmic pattern of breath in, hold, breath out. Eventually, it became easy, and you realized that Bakugou was softly giving you instructions that matched his actions. You stood like that for several moments more, until the weight of your actions caught up to you, and you pushed away, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered. “It’s my stupid quirk. If I overuse it, then I get like, well, like that. I thought I had it under control this time. I wish you didn’t have to see that.”

His arm came forward to touch you again in comfort, but it dropped as though he thought better of it. Instead, he shifted on his feet, letting a small silence fill the room before he broke it with his next words. “Every quirk has its limits. That’s not something to apologize for.”

You still didn’t raise your gaze, so he continued. “And it’s not stupid. It’s incredibly useful. You were able to get a handle on the situation and help save that girl because of it. If anything, it’s one of the most heroic quirks I’ve heard of.”

At this, you give him a skeptical look, to which he grinned. “I’m serious. Being able to calm people down and diffuse a situation is a hell of a lot more useful than a lot of other quirks, like being able to grow sticky balls from the top of your head, yet somehow that idiot became a licensed hero.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at his not-so-subtle jab. “I guess you’re right. Plus, it’s why I wanted to become a doctor, after all. I thought it could help.”

“Damn straight I’m right. I always am,” he preened.  

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Has anyone told you that you’re actually the worst?”  

“Everyday, if I can help it,” he retorted. 

You shook your head, turning away from him, but you had to admit that he had helped, tremendously so. Your chest felt lighter than it had since you first heard the scream in the park, and the overwhelming anxiety and panic was now replaced with a quiet weariness that would hopefully go away after a long sleep.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, yet he said it with such sincerity that you couldn’t help but smile in response.

You nodded, turning your focus to Chargebolt and his chart notes. Unlike the newest victims, he had no further complications besides his unconsciousness. You supposed it was a blessing when compared to the alternative, although you wouldn’t necessarily consider anything about the situation good until he woke up. The toxins were still a mystery, and while nothing was on record, you had overheard that a cure couldn’t be finalized for everyone until the authorities had actually caught the perpetrator himself and taken samples from him. Therefore, it was now a waiting game of which held out longer, the toxins or the Basilisk.

You set down the chart, turning back to Bakugou to let him know the updates, or lack thereof, when a noise halted you in your tracks.  

“Did I die and go to heaven? Because you look like an angel.”

The voice was weak, barely a whisper, but it sent a shock through the room nonetheless. It wasn’t Bakugou who had said that terrible pickup line, and it certainly wasn’t yourself.

You pivoted on your heel so quickly that you almost fell over, gripping the side of the bed for stability. Bakugou was just as fast, appearing at the bedside in an instant. You peered down with your mouth slightly open in awe, and electrifying yellow eyes stared right back at you.

Pro-Hero Chargebolt was awake.

A/N: Thanks for reading and being so understanding about the two-week break! This holiday season has turned out to be super busy, so I apologize about that and also for posting a day late. Also, I know that this chapter has some potentially sensitive content in it, so if you have feedback, please let me know respectfully!

As always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, but please do not repost here or on other platforms. However, fan arts, edits, or anything like that are beyond amazing and totally welcome! If you have a question about it, just ask me.

Tag List: @lavender99, @gold24fish, @bqkuho3, @satorulicious, @cringeycookies, @summrwalkr, @nyxmania, @poopoobuttsy, @st1rvoid, @kitzusune, @nindevorak, @stxrrielle, @cax-per, @kisskissshutmydoor, @kazuumii,  @nnubee, @neutralevilxx, @idk-sam

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments! Also, if the tag list DIDN'T work, please let me know as well.

[alsktudy]

— warmth

paring. soonyoung x reader genre. angst, exes to lovers, fluff at the end wc. 1.5k warning. mention of skipping meals and swearing

synopsis. you thought breaking up with soonyoung would make you more focused at your job. you couldn't be more wrong.

his sharp, angular eyes were filling with tears, you hate seeing him cry, you hate it even more that it was you making him cry.

“what?” his voice shaky and struggling to produce a coherent sound, “i- i don’t understand.”

“let’s break up.”

he shakes his head in disbelief, the tears which had been collecting over the past few moments finally beginning to trickle down his cheeks.

“you don’t actually mean it, you aren’t being serious.”

“i wouldn’t joke around about something like this soonyoung.”

soonyoung furrows his eyebrows at his full name being spoken, his ears had gotten used to you calling him ‘soonie’.

you swallow the thick lump forming in your throat, “i really mean it, let’s break up.”

—

you convinced yourself were fine.

the attention which he constantly bathed you in ultimately made you unproductive at work. your supervisor got annoyed at you for entering the wrong numbers and decided to force your whole section have to work over time to fix your mistake.

you wanted focus on your work, that was the whole reason why you broke up with him in the first place, so why you can’t you focus on entering any of the data into the stupid glowing screen in front of you?

it’s a simple task, punch a few numbers into the computer and you’re done. you’ve done this for 7 months already that it feels like muscle memory, yet your hands are unable to move, currently occupied with the task of holding tightly onto the thoughts of your past relationship.

your eyes gaze shift to the phone resting on the table.

a part of you wishes soonyoung would call you or even send a message. he didn’t block you on social media, heck, he didn’t even unfollow you. that means he wants to keep in touch… right? you think it’s safe to assume he didn’t have the heart to press the unfollow button and honestly, you’re secretly glad he didn’t becuase you didn’t have the heart to unfollow him either.

but a part of you also wishes that you could shelf your pride away and text him first. ask him how work’s going, if he’s found any good music lately, after all, thats what friends on facebook do, right? or possibly the monstrous task of apologising.

with a sigh you reach for your phone and search up his instagram for what seems like 17th time today. all the posts which contained you disappeared 2 weeks ago – you really hope he archived them and didn’t delete them.

your thumb shifts to click on his most recent post: a video of him dancing. the shadow from his black adidas cap obscuring most of his face, making it hard to make out his eyes.

maybe it was for the best that you couldn’t see his eyes. they’d probably remind you of how desperate his sharp, glossy eyes yearned to find a single glimpse of remorse in your gaze that night.

you analyse the way his body effortlessly moves to the rhythm of the song until a loud thud on your desk snaps you out of your trance.

“didn’t you break up with that kid?” nayeon asks as she looks over your shoulder, her eyes gazing at the replaying video.

“yeah,” slightly embarassed that nayeon had caught you looking at his profile, “why?”

“then why do you keep watching him dance?” you gulp audibly and reach for your phone and turn it off, “you’ve checked that thing,” she points at your phone, “countless times over the past hour. i keep hearing the same song over and over again.”

rolling your eyes you shove your phone into a drawer, “i was just checking up on him.” you retort, crossing your arms.

“checking up on him every 7 minutes?” she scoffs.

“well…” you exhale shakily, “i haven’t seen him in a while, i was just curious…”

“wait! lemme check your screentime real quick.” she exclaims.

“what?”

“just… pass me the damn phone.”

you comply, opening the drawer, handing her the phone after unlocking it.

shit, you didn’t realise that you checked up on him that much.

“9 hours… 9 hours!?” nayeon’s eyes go wide as she reads your average daily screentime. “do i have to confiscate your phone?!” she jokes with a light slap on your shoulder.

“well.. i like watching youtube.”

“most used app… instagram.”

well shit. thanks apple.

“what the hell is wrong with you!?”

“could you keep it down?!” you say in a whisper-shout, lightly slapping her arm.

“you gotta fix that.”

“are you my mum or something?”

“no, i’m a good friend.” her thumbs rapidly tap at the glowing screen.

“what the hell are you doing?”

“setting you a damn limit since you obviously can’t control yourself.” she says grinning at the screen, “gave you one minute allowed on insta, you’re welcome.” she places the phone back into your hands and walks away chuckling.

“i can just disable it when i get home!”

and disable it you did.

—

it had been 2 months since you last saw him in person and fuck, you were missing him like crazy.

your life became a grey scene devoid of all colour, but you can’t really blame anyone but yourself. you pushed away the man who brought a range of beautiful colours that you couldn’t even imagine before you met him.

yeah sure, you slowly regained your focus on work and even got a promotion, but did it really mean anything if soonyoung didn’t attempt to make a congratulations cake and somehow burn it? or pepper your face with a multitude of kisses saying that your his smart, pretty girl until you beg him to stop with a shy giggle? you didn’t fucking think so.

“soonyoung?” you say smiling, “what a coincidence to see you here! it’s so nice to see you again.”

you couldn’t help it, you had to see him. soonyoung taught lessons at a dance studio nearby, you were bound to run into him sooner or later if you continued to lurk around the area.

he flashes you a feign smile, “oh! oh- uh it’s nice to see you too.” well that sounded like a lie. he looks down and hesitates before looking up to meet your eyes once more, “how have you been?”

“im just living life, i guess.” you say, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, the confidence (and the adrenaline) which pumped throughout your body moments ago disolving in a instant after hearing his voice, “how have you been, soonie?”

soonyoung breath hitches at the old nickname but continues to keep his composure.

“well, i’ve been...” he takes a breath, “living my life too.”

you look up to meet his gaze, his cold gaze. no warmth behind those pupils, the glimmer of passion which once used to call his eyes home had disappeared.

an uncomfortable silence fell between you two as you stared at each other feeling an obvious tension blanketing the atmosphere.

“i guess… i guess i should go.” you say, knowing that this interaction wouldn’t lead to anything other than more tension, “see you around.” you give him wave accompanied by a small smile.

as you awkwardly turn around and begin to walk away, soonyoung shaky voice rings through out your ears, “are you taking care of yourself? you’ve been eating well right? i hope you have, i always told you not to skip your meals.”

you spin around to meet his glossy eyes staring at you, “what?” you ask breathlessly.

“you’ve skipped meals right? you always do that when you-”

you run into him, wrapping your arms around his waist, in response he cloaks with his own warmth with an embrace. “soonyoung,” you sob into his shirt.

he exhales, “i know, i missed you too.”

you peel your face off his chest and look at him – his gaze full of love as he looks down at you with his tears threatening to fall with one simple blink.

your heart shatters as the thought of all of the emotions he probably went through the past 2 months rapidly fly throughout your mind. all you can say is a pathetic ‘i’m so sorry.’ repeatedly into his chest.

all he does is slowly caress your hair and press kisses onto the top of your head as you continue to sob your apologises.

you hate that your the one who’s crying the most out of the two of you, shouldn’t he be crying more? you’re the one who broke up with him. but it’s like soonyoung can basically read your mind, after all, you were together for 1.5 years. he immediately comforts you and all of your worrying thoughts, “it’s okay, let it all out, i forgive you.”

it takes a while before theres silence bewteen you two. his scent is comforting, his soft whispers into your hair make you giggle and tighten your arms around him and his warm, loving gaze makes you never want to leave him again.

thank you for reading until the end!!

a/n. requested by @kwonshiho, heres the ask! its loosely based on screentime by epik high ft soonyoung and a tad inspired by our beloved summer. i used this to practice for my english exam LOL. also this took long to write LOL

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