#shadow company you're really bad at your jobs

[efingcod]

Stealth

[eaterofman]

Yandere Harem Coworkers x New Hire Reader

Now with a part 2 <3

Good news: You landed your dream job! Bad news: Your coworkers are fucking insane.

CW: Yanderes, workplace harassment, possessiveness, implied stalking, power dynamics, dubcon touching

You hadn't expected a job like this to come so easily.

It really had been a dream job from the moment you laid eyes on the job posting, and they'd even offered you better during the interview! They'd even thrown in an extra sign on bonus! You couldn't believe your luck. You were finally going places.

Really, how could you say no?

Your interviewer was the HR manager, Leon Jacobs. He was a stern looking man, clearly in his late 40's, and didn't seem to have a single flaw in his appearance. His age showed in the beginnings of grey hairs atop his tidy, shortcut black hair, and the creases beneath his eyes. His appearance was beyond intimidating. Dark, scowling eyes picked you apart from behind his glasses as you fidgeted in your chair. Whatever nightmare of an interview you thought was coming, never happened. Instead, you were surprised when he almost immediately offered you not only the job, but an even better salary and bonus than was advertised. You were almost too stunned to speak, as he held out his hand to shake, his dark expression lifting with the slightest twitch of his lips. You took his hand shakily in agreement. In your excitement, you didn't notice the way his hand gripped yours a hair too tight, or how his touch lingered for a few moments longer than it should have. The way his gaze intently followed your figure as you walked out was also missed by you.

"We're so happy to welcome you to the team. Our team will make sure your time working here is as pleasant as possible."

Your trainer is a well respected man, Warren Pen. Warren is a huge man, easily towering over you. While he'd be otherwise intimidating at his size, his warm expression and demeanor quickly puts you at ease. How could you be afraid of him, with his warm brown eyes and bouncy red curls and gentle smile? You quickly learned that he must have a pretty high position in the company. His office alone was almost as big as your entire apartment! The office they give you is nearly as big, much to your surprise. Warren reassures you that it's not a mistake, that they just want you to be comfortable in your new position. You are so very important to the company, after all. As he helps you settle in, you're amazed by his generosity and kindness. You're too happy to question why there's such a big office space right next to his open for you, or why such a high ranking worker would be assigned to train a newbie. You're initially confused about why all your other coworkers seem to cower away from him... until you see him lose it on a poor intern. His demeanor changed from a gentle giant to a raging monster within the blink of an eye, screaming at the intern over a simple filing mistake. You find yourself suddenly on your toes around him, waiting for a verbal barrage over one of your mishaps, but it never comes.

"Don't worry, I'd never treat you like that. They deserved it. You're doing perfect."

Your department's boss is a man named Jax Wright. Jax is a charming man, and the childhood best friend of Warren. He's slim and tall, with black hair and a slightly rugged appearance. He always seems to be in a rush, hair usually rustled and a 5 o'clock shadow a constant on his face. Yet, he somehow takes time out of his busy day to visit you. Or, more accurately, he finds the time to corner you when you're alone or with Warren. You don't want to lose this dream of a job, so you don't mention the way the childhood friends always find a way to crowd around you in the more narrow hallways or the breakroom. They insist you have lunch everyday with them, why would you want to eat by yourself? You really shouldn't deny your superiors' lunch requests, y'know. You ignore the lingering touches as he leans in far closer than necessary to examine your work, hands placed possessively on your shoulders. He loves to give you overwhelming praise, even for the most minor of accomplishments. You're afraid your other coworkers will think the worst of you because of the special treatment, but they seem to be avoiding you nearly as much as they avoid Warren.

"Good job. You're exceptional as always. It's been an absolute pleasure to work with you. Keep being good and you're bound for a raise."

With the rest of the department seeming to avoid you like the plague, you start to believe that you're stuck with just the overbearing childhood friends to talk to. That is until the secretary, Jake Moor, begins to talk to you. Jake is flamboyant, to say the least. He's bright, from his beaming white smile to his wide array of cute, colorful ties he matches with his suit. He's young, in his early 20s, and his bright blonde hair only adds to his youthful appearance. He's almost too much, talking at light speed and somehow being more touchy than your boss. He always finds a reason to pull you into hugs, or rustle your hair playfully. It doesn't bother you much though, he's just being friendly, right? And you really don't want to lose one of the few friends you have in the department. He has some sort of treat for you everyday, usually a homemade meal or pastry you have to find the time to eat alone before you're coworkers steal you away to have lunch with them. His cheerful nature motivates you to stay with the company, he really is your "beacon of light". You even find yourself giggling to yourself as he sends you silly motivational cat pictures throughout your day. He's so cute you don't even question how he got your number when you never gave it to him yourself. You do find it a bit odd that he knows exactly where to go when your car breaks down one day and he gives you a ride home, but you'd told him you lived in those apartments on the east side, remember? He'd never use his position to look at confidential paperwork. Never.

"I brought you in some cookies I baked last night, and here, I even made some dog treats! I've never made them before, let me know how he likes them! How did I know you have a dog? ...you told me, remember? Silly!"

As the weeks pass, you start to become more accustomed to your coworker's odd mannerisms. They still wear on you, but the money is just so good. You need it, where else would you even go? There's no chance you'd find anything near as good, if you found anything at all. You needed this job, Jax and Warren's overbearing natures aside. At least you had Jake, who always seems to know exactly what you need whenever you need it.

You can tough it out... right?

[oracle-of-dream]

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...

Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink

Wordcount: 2k

Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.

You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.

While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.

A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."

You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.

Fuck.

You're late.

"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.

Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."

You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."

Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.

He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.

"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.

His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."

You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.

Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.

You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"

He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."

You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"

He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."

You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.

"You're lucky, you know that?"

"I am. Because I get to work with you."

"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."

Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.

You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.

"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."

You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."

"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."

You nodded, "And?"

"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."

You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."

Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.

"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.

"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.

You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.

He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.

"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.

"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.

Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.

"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.

"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."

"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"

You nodded, "Just for you."

"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.

You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.

"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.

"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.

"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."

Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.

"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.

Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.

"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.

"You want more?"

You shook your head, begging.

"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.

"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.

"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.

"More, please."

"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.

It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.

Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.

"P-Please," You begged.

"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.

You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.

Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."

You groaned, "Let's sleep."

"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.

"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."

Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."

"Like hell–You want to bathe me."

"So you'd rather lay like this?"

"If it means I don't lose money."

"Money? What about my feelings?"

"Your feelings don't pay."

"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.

"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.

Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.

"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.

After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"

You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."

"Then, will you be my plus one?"

"Like walk the red carpet?"

"Maybe."

You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."

"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.

[azrielbrainrot]

Mind Over Matter

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Description: Eris sees you at your lowest and you get a glimpse behind the mask.

Warnings: Angst, Domestic Violence, Injury

Word Count: 3550

Notes: In case it's confusing this is set before Fire on Fire. Hope you enjoy!

Fire on Fire Masterlist

The forest looked beautiful today. The red and orange leaves cast shadows over the whole clearing, and from the tree branch you were sitting at, you could see the birds flying and even some bunnies hopping around the bushes. It had been raining all week but it finally let up this morning, the sun was now shining high in the sky making it a perfect day to sit and read outside.

Even if the season never changes, you can tell apart the “beginning” and “end” of autumn. The leaves are just starting to fall, meaning this would be the beginning of the season. In a few months when the leaves are mostly on the ground, it will be the “end” and then the cycle will repeat itself. You always preferred this time when the sun is still shining and the forest is alive.

It might be summertime in the solar courts from your calculations, not that you've ever stepped foot out of this one, or even out of the city. As much as you love the forests tinged in orange, you can't help but wonder what it would be like if they gave way to different sights every few months.

Perhaps it would make autumn more enjoyable if it wasn't constantly upon you. You think you wouldn't hate the spring or summer, when the sun is warmer and there isn't as much rain, when different flowers bloom making the forests turn into different shades of green and brown and so many other colors.

You haven't been this deep into the woods in a long time, your mother and father had both finally left the house for long enough at the same time after what felt like forever. With the rain, your mother hadn't been invited to any tea parties and your father always seemed to be working in his office nowadays, never even leaving to attend any meetings. Seems the High Lord had given him some important job.

You'd feel bad for whoever had the misfortune of their company today but these are the few moments of peace you can steal for yourself, and you've been praying to The Mother that something came up so your father was called to the Forest House or even further. If it was something scandalous enough it would take your mother to her friend's houses to discuss it among themselves too.

You get so lost in your thoughts and the book you're reading, in the calmness and silence the forest brings you that it's only when you look up at the sky and see it starting to turn the same orange tone as the trees that you realize the sun is almost setting, you were late. You weren't sure how long your parents would be gone for, hopefully they weren't coming before dinner or they would already be looking for you.

Gathering your skirt, you hop down from the thick branch you've been sitting on, shoving your book into the old bag you once stole from one of the many closets in your house. It took you a few tries, and reading a couple of books, but you had managed to charm it to hold a lot more than its size would lead you to believe. You've been using it to keep books, dried flowers you've turned into bookmarks, random trinkets you've found over the years and even a couple of pants. Anything your parents wouldn't approve of you having really, things you actually called your own. Picking it up, you winnow to its hiding place - an old hollowed tree close to the edge of the woods behind your house - and quickly cover it so no one comes across it.

The maids knew you weren't inside, thinking you were in the gazebo watching the flowers, or feeling sorry for yourself, whatever they told themselves you did all day, so winnowing straight to your room wasn't an option. There was also the risk of any of them lingering around and seeing you. The garden had to do then, the servants had probably all left the grounds by then, retiring to their own homes.

You winnow deep into the garden so you're surrounded by bushes, close to the crimson roses that overlooked the side entrance to the estate. You weren't usually allowed on this side of the garden, it was too close to the servants' gate, meaning any of the “lowly” males could see you and you wouldn't know how to defend yourself from their advances. Sometimes you think your father is convinced you need instructions for breathing too.

Waving a hand over yourself to clean off any obvious dirt for the moment, you almost sprint closer to the gazebo, the place the maids would come looking for you when it was time to get ready for dinner.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you turn the corner to find your father walking the grounds. His face turns into stone as soon as he lays eyes on you, making you drop your skirt immediately, smoothing it with your hands out of habit, always trying to appear as polished as you can in front of him.

By his side stood your fiancé, looking as elegant as ever in a black three piece suit, topped off with a muted red tie to match the soles of his shoes. You've never seen his hair this long, it was combed back and tied in a small knot. Your gaze moves back to your father's disappointed face when his eyes meet yours, always so intense and calculating, suffocating even.

It had been years since you'd last been caught outside by your father and, to make matters worse, Eris was here too. At least he only saw you in the garden, even if further in than you're normally allowed. You don't even want to think what would happen if he'd seen you winnow from the woods.

“What are you doing outside at nightfall?” Your father was clearly displeased with you, not only for going against his wishes but also for doing it in front of such an important person.

“I simply got distracted looking at the flowers,” you try to sound as demure as possible, thinking maybe you could fix this by playing dumb since your father probably didn't want to make a scene in front of Eris, “They're blooming so beautifully.”

“You must have been really distracted,” he says as he turns his head menacingly, “since you know you're not allowed to wander around unattended.”

His tone almost makes you flinch, your face dropping. It had been foolish of you to think you could talk yourself out of the situation. Eris' presence wouldn't make your father less volatile, it only made things worse. He wanted to show the other male he was capable of handling his family, not wanting to appear weak in front of the heir.

You hadn't stopped to think that this could also make you less viable for marriage. His daughter being personally chosen by the High Lord as his eldest son's fiancé was your father's greatest accomplishment, and he knew better than you that Beron's mind was easily changed, he wouldn't want Eris to think you might not be the best option after all.

In this moment you ponder tarnishing your reputation as much as you could to get out of this marriage. If only it wouldn't cost you your life with it. Your father always hated the fact that you were born female. A male would bring the family name glory but a female could only hope to wed into a noble family. If you were to lose the High Lord's favor your father would likely lock you away from the world or even dispose of you altogether.

Your father lets out what you think he means as a disapproving sigh, but you can hear the excitement behind it, can see it on his face. He's grown to enjoy the moments when he can put you or your mother in your place, it makes him feel important. He approaches you, moving away from a slightly confused looking Eris.

You knew what was coming as soon as you saw your father pull his hand back, you've been here before many times after all. You close your eyes, feeling the heat approach your face, trying not to let your instincts take over and try to avoid it, that only makes it worse. The force of the slap makes your head turn to the side, your body almost following, but the worst part is the flames, you have to bite your lip not to let out any sound as you feel the burn eating at your skin. You faintly smell burning and try not to think about it, knowing it's the smell of your own flesh.

He holds your chin with a still too warm hand, even if already rid of the flames, and looks into your eyes closely, wanting to revel in your pain. “I've taught you better than this.” He adds another light slap to your face for good measure before letting you go completely. It almost hurts more than the first one, the skin was so tender even just moving your face hurt.

Taking a weak breath in, you try to calm your mind, ignore the pain and rage warring inside you. Clutching tightly onto your dress to keep your hands occupied, in case your mind slips and you burn his face in rage the same way he keeps doing to yours. You feel the flames wanting to rise up to your skin but firmly snuff them out, making sure they stay safely hidden deep inside you until it's the right time.

The pain has gotten easier to bear over the years, now you close your eyes not from fear but to calm yourself. You don't have the strength to go against him yet or a plan for a safe escape, you refuse to lose your life so easily after enduring this for so long. One day you will make him pay for everything he has put you through but first you need a plan and you need to be stronger.

This time it was different though, Eris was watching, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin deeper than your father's fiery palm ever could. There had been witnesses to his cruelty before, even outside your family and servants, you had seen pity, satisfaction and even trained blankness in their faces, had learned to ignore them and not ask for help under any circumstance - it took you too long to realize that the ones showing pity know your pain or are as powerless as you.

But, for some reason, knowing Eris, your future husband, the heir to the throne, is watching makes you want to cry for the first time since you were a child. You bite your lip and clench your fists as hard as you can, opening your eyes only enough to look to the ground, hoping your face isn't giving away too much or the burn was at least enough to hide it.

Suddenly interested in studying the cobbled stones you've walked on for decades, you notice your earring fell off, the ruby glinting in one of the little nooks in between stones, suffocated with no place to escape to just like you felt. You briefly wondered if it had simply gotten loose with the force or if it was ripped off your earlobe, but the pain on the side of your face was too intense to be able to pinpoint a specific area. A ripped earlobe was the least of your concerns anyway.

“What do you think you're doing?” All your thoughts evaporate when you hear his voice. He sounds uncharacteristically angry, you've never seen him lose the teasing lilt to his words or crafted nonchalant tone. You can't help but look up at him with wide eyes, not even remembering the shame you had felt before.

“Not to worry. Her face will be healed by tomorrow morning,” your father barely hesitates, assuming the anger wasn't directed at him hitting you, “I wouldn't give you damaged goods, my lord.”

Sometimes you wonder how your father had lived for so long, how he managed to become important enough that he not only worked for Beron but the High Lord would also want his heir to marry you, when he could be this dense. It was clear Eris wasn't worried about your face, his anger was almost palpable.

You know he wears a mask like no one else, you've seen it in action, but, if your father hadn't been so self-absorbed, if it was Beron standing in front of him, this would end very differently. Because the mask had fallen at the same time your stupid earring did. What was staring at you was Eris' true face. Your father was too thick to notice but you could gamble your life on it.

It showed his unrestrained fury and power rumbling just beneath his skin, you're not sure how your father didn't notice the way the temperature rose around them, the air suddenly resembling the summer you had just been longing for. His gaze burned hotter than lava and the planes of his face carved out the perfect personification of fury. His face was the perfect picture of the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. It was all fire, beautifully and all consuming.

He was making a bigger effort of not hurting your father than you were. When your eyes met you could almost see him forcefully pushing his feelings away, stuffing himself down with them, burying them deep inside him to keep the plot he's been writing for centuries intact. Still, his gaze lingered on your marred cheek too long, you think you even see his fingers spasm, as if wanting to reach out, if it was to console you or to snap your father's neck you couldn't be sure but the sentiment behind it was the same.

You almost gasp as the realization comes to you. The look on his face isn't all anger but what's underlining it isn't pity, it's the face of someone who understands. He's been in your same place. It shouldn't be a surprise to you, Beron's cruelty will far outlive his name, but it's hard to imagine Eris, inarguably the second most powerful fae in this court, in your place.

Your stomach twists at the implications. If even he can't fight Beron, what hope do you have of escaping your father? Especially now that he's aligned himself with the High Lord? It's in this moment that you know Eris' warnings were correct, there's no use running, you wouldn't make it but a couple steps.

“She needs a healer to fix her face,” you can almost see him choosing his words, playing into your father's narrative enough while trying to help you as much as he can. You're starting to think you have Eris figured out. Is this how he has survived this long? “See that it gets done quickly.”

He leaves without another word, turning away from you father and letting his eyes linger on your burnt flesh one more time before winnowing out of your estate. You don't look away from where he'd just been even when your father grabs your arm and pulls you along on his way inside the house, cursing you with every step. You wouldn't be able to leave your room and escape into the forest for a while.

Later that night, when you're returning to your room, after a healer treated your wounds as usual, and made sure Eris' goods wouldn't be permanently damaged as your father had so lovingly put it, you find a vaguely familiar, faint scent lingering in the air, it makes your heart stop.

Thankfully, the maids didn't accompany you to your room, they didn't like treating you cruelly but helping you could get them in trouble with your father so they'd rather just watch in silence, or, even better, turn their face whenever it was possible.

If they had followed you, they would have noticed the scent, would run and tell your father. You're not sure if they'd recognize it as his, he doesn't visit your house often after all, but the spicy scent was unmistakably male. It's better not to think of the amount of trouble you would be in if they smelled it.

You walk to the window first, opening it as wide as you can so the chilly night air fills the room instead, making sure there would be no residuals in the morning when they came to wake you. Looking up at the full moon in the cloudy sky, feeling the wind turn to ice against the side of your face still covered in a thick cooling salve and wrapped in bandages, you hesitate one more time before moving to the foreign items sitting at your vanity table, undoubtedly left behind by your dear fiancé.

Eris left you a tiny bottle with some strange bluish liquid inside accompanied by a small red velvet box tied off with a golden ribbon. You know he won't poison you, the bargain won't allow it, but you weren't sure what else he could do if he let his imagination run wild. You decide reading the note set on top of the box might give you an idea.

He has no right to treat you like this. I'm sorry I can't do more to help you for now but I promise there will come a day when he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

The note wasn't signed but you knew it was his. Even after your agreement, you didn't think he would try to make you feel better, even going as far as risking getting caught while dropping this off, since this fragile alliance of yours had been neither of your first choices.

You pick up the bottle and uncork it, immediately recognizing the calming scent of a sleeping draught. It would help with your nightmares. This is a generous amount too, it can last you a while. You set it back down and untie the ribbon, opening the box to find some chocolate and sugar cookies.

A sleeping draught and cookies. Never in your life had you received anything like this. You can't even admit it to yourself but this is by far the most thoughtful gift you've ever gotten from anyone.

He had to have an idea of how awful your father was to you, you told him as much when you made the bargain, but he might not have realized he went as far as physically hurting you. Eris knows the pain of an abusive father, of being haunted by their cruelty even in your dreams. So, he gave you the draught to help you even a little and the cookies to console you, something sweet to fend off the pain.

Just when you were starting to feel thankful for Eris, thinking you might have been too harsh on him before, you notice something else written on the other side of the note. Turning it around and reading it as well.

I wasn't aware you could winnow so well. Just how much are you hiding from your family, doll?

Your entire body tenses at the words, turning the paper into flames lest anyone reads it. He knows. You've managed to hide this ability from everyone for decades, but now Eris, of all people, knows. You're not sure how he noticed when your father didn't. He could have arrived before him, could have wandered around the grounds without anyone knowing. Is it possible that he knew where you went? No, he couldn't have come from the forest in time to talk to your father and see you.

You hold your hand up to rub over your chest, simultaneously trying to calm your racing heart and feeling the mark of the bargain woven into your soul, trying to reassure yourself. He's your ally. He won't tell anyone, the bargain won't allow it. But what could he do with this information? You had the upper hand when you made the bargain but it feels like he just stepped ahead.

After a few moments of breathing in the cold air still seeping into the room and settling your mind, you sit down on the chair by the vanity unceremoniously, letting your head drop into your hands for a moment. A heavy sigh escapes you as you open the cookie box again. What kind of person sends you gifts and includes a mildly threatening message with them. Must he always push your buttons like this?

You take a bite out of a chocolate cookie and let the delicious taste melt in your mouth, eyeing the small bottle. It seems you'll need to use it tonight, you definitely need a good dreamless sleep after the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through the whole day.

What you fail to notice is that, between the chocolate and sugar cookies you keep munching on and the annoyance now targeted towards Eris, your face barely even hurts anymore and you weren't left thinking of the deep rooted ache in your soul after your father hurt you yet another time.

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡: 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈 | 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: demon!chan x reader x demon!minho Genre: Smut (and a ton of plot for once) Word count: 8.5k Warnings: almost dying, manipulative felix, whole ton of plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, harassment (not by the boys), minor character death, suicide, very brief dry humping, degrading, fingering, lazy depictions of blood, marking again >.>, etc... (i think i got them all sorry if i missed something. not proofread... i got lazy im sorry

A/N: I'm really trying to work on how i write scary things and describe situations sooo bear with me if the parts that would be "scary" are varying in intensity. i'm gonna cry cus my power went out and the desktop shut off so i lost my SMAU.... i'll post it tomorrow i guess.

Shadows of forgotten reap. They hound and haunt the weak. Those who wish to wield the devil's wrath forget not all the patient are safe from the aftermath...

You woke up late. Again. Walking into the office you saw your coworkers giving you sideways looks. Yeah, you were screwed. You sat at your desk and were about to start working when your boss, Mr. Cho, walked past your desk.

Everyone greeted him but as he passed he tapped your desk and motioned for you to follow him.

Jaehwa gave you a wide eyed look. Soojin crossed her fingers. As you trailed behind the man to his office your shoulder brushed Juwon's. He looked at you for. a moment before he kept walking.

Mr. Cho opened the door and motioned for you to enter, you took a deep breath and walked in. He closed the door and motioned for you to sit in the chair across from his desk before he finally... FINALLY spoke.

"Ms. L/n..." he hummed softly, looking at some papers on his desk as he sat down. "You're very good at what you do."

"Thank you sir." You nodded slightly.

"Being good at something doesn't warrant your recent performance though..."

"Oh-"

"I'm not done." He looked at you with a very irritated expression. "The rumors going around are also a major workplace disturbance, I will be having a similar conversation with Mr. Yu."

You bristled Juwon had taken the rejection and gone what rumors could there possibly be, "Mr. Yu has nothing to-" You started.

He raised a brow at you.

You went quiet.

"I don't think you understand what I'm trying to convey." Mr. Cho, leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. "I'm going to fire you."

Your eyes went wide. "Mr. Cho I-"

"You've done a great deal for our company and our news but your terrible performance now far outweighs what you've done here n the past." He shrugged. "There's nothing I can do."

"Mr. Cho, I- You don't understand how badly I need this job! I can take more hou-"

"Ms. L/n." He smiled slightly. It was an unsettling smile that made you feel icky. "You're a beautiful young woman. You don't really need this job based on the rumors your boyfriend is incredibly well off."

"Mr. Cho I'm not going to rely on a man to take care of me." You clenched your fists under the desk.

"Then I can't help you."

You bit your lip and sucked in a frustrated breath.

"Unless.."

You looked up.

"As I said before Ms. L/n you're a very beautiful young woman with such... potential." He stood and walked around the desk, resting his hands on your shoulders. "I can help you keep this job.. at a cost."

You stiffened. "Excuse me?" You stood, turning to face the man.

"I know you're not stupid, Y/n." He leaned in close, " You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You stared at him. This man...

"Choice is yours." He breathed, hot breath against your face.

This man was a depraved fuck. You moved from between him and the desk, trying to go to the door.

He grabbed your forearm. "Y/n I'm offering you the bet thing I can at the moment."

You let out a dry laugh. "If you think I'm doing that you're crazy."

"How bad would it look if the board knew you jumped into Juwon's bed after one drink?" He pulled you back to him. "You need this job Y/n. How long do you think that boyfriend of yours is going to be there?"

You wrenched your hand away. "You can't say a thing about-"

"This is your only chance at having a job." He grabbed at your waist.

You shoved him. "Mr. Cho. Don't hurry in firing me. I'll submit my resignation." You turned and walked out of the office.

Soojin was waiting for you outside. "What happened?"

You didn't say a word as you grabbed your things and went to the elevator.

"Y/n!" Jaehwa ran to you from his desk.

"Girl-" Soojin started.

"I'll see you guys around okay?" You snapped as you slammed the button on the elevator to go down.

"What happened in there?" Jaehwa pressed gently.

"It doesn't matter." You felt the tears welling in your eyes.

"Y/n."

You looked up at the sound of Juwon's voice. He looked guilty..

"I'm sorry- why are you cryi-" He started.

"Leave me alone damn it!" You shouted. "Are you happy?!"

"Come on I didn't want this to happen!" He reached for you.

You pulled back. "Stay the fuck away from me Juwon!"

The elevator doors finally opened and as you were about to storm in and close them you were staring right at a dark suit, straining against hard muscle. You looked up at Chan.

He looked right past you at Juwon.

Jaehwa's mouth fell open as did many passersby as they saw Chan.

"Chan-" You started but he grabbed your hand and pushed past Juwon, walking straight through the cubicles and to your boss's office.

Your boss looked up from his work as Chan threw the door open. The man's eyes widened for a brief moment as he saw you being dragged by Chan. "Can I help you?" He asked.

Chan stared at Mr. Cho before closing the door.

You tensed, "Cha-" You tried to grab the enraged demon but before you could he was looming over your boss.

He muttered something in the man's ear and you watched as Mr. Cho froze in fear. Chan turned around and grabbed your hand again, dragging you out of the office and to the elevator. "You don't need this." He grabbed your work ID card and tossed it on the floor.

He jammed the button for the elevator to go down and pulled you in.

Juwon sprinted to the elevator and Chan smiled as the doors closed. He looked at you. "You don't ned this job. You'll live with me."

"With you?" You looked up at him. "In that hell house??!"

"Hey!" Chan huffed. "I built that house with my own mind."

"You're a psycho." You muttered, hugging yourself.

Chan frowned at you. "I'm a maniac, there's a difference."

You laughed slightly and Chan smiled at you.

You were sitting in your apartment, staring into space the next day when the bell rang. You stood expecting it to be Chan telling you start packing but as you approached the door, hand outstretched to the doorknob, your tattoo burned.

Don't open it...

You bit your lip and stared at the door, you relaxed after a moment and turned to go sit back down. But the bell rang again.

You didn't move and held your breath for a moment. Then you heard the banging on the door.

"Police. Open up."

You froze. Why? You were about to open the door when the tattoo sent a burning pain up your neck and down your arm and back. You couldn't make a sound and held onto the wall.

Do NOT open that door.

You slid to the floor in pain, trying to stop the pain. It was excruciating, like your skin was being burned off. You half walked, half dragged yourself to the bathroom and tried to reach the sink.

You crumbled at the bathroom door and almost, almost screamed, you felt like you were on fire. Your vision darkened and when you opened your eyes again you saw a room you hadn't before.

A hallway on fire. At the end of the hallway stood an angel, wings spread wide, his back was to you, all you could see was his blonde hair.

You walked towards him, the walls were going up in flames but there he stood. As the flames began to lick at the beautiful feathers of his right wing. You shouted at him, urging him to run, flee the flames of hell fire, but no sound out.

The flames completely enveloped his right wing, devouring the soft feathers and scorching the limb to the bone.

He crumbled clutching his right shoulder as the skin singed. And the wing.. fell to ashes..

He squeezed his shoulder, the burnt skin raw jagged bone where his wing once was remaining, jutting out of the burned flesh. And then he whipped his head around to face you.

The angel was him. The man in the flower field, freckled face, blonde hair and all.. but his eyes. One beautiful, vibrant blue eye and one black as the void between your world and that of Chan.

You reached for the angel, but arms wrapped around you followed by four big black feathered wings and you were drawn back.

Your head was pounding. And someone was screaming crying.

"Y/N!" a woman's voice, you knew this voice all too well.

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" A man.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!" And the deepest voice you'd ever heard.

Your eyes flew open and you sat up.

Soojin grabbed your hands. "Y/N! Calm down!"

You stared around frantically. Soojin, Jaehwa, that freckled face...

The doctor came up to you and started looking you over.

"Y/n." He kneeled beside your hospital bed. "Are you okay? What happened?" he reached for your hand.

The door to your room opened. Chan stood there, eyes wide, he looked scared. But his expression went from panic to anger. His eyes drifting from you to the freckled man.

He stood and looked at Chan. Soojin looked between the two men.

Jaehwa cleared his throat. "How is she doc?"

"She's fine." The doctor put her stethoscope away. "Who's in charge of her?"

The freckled man opened his mouth but Chan quickly interjected. "Me. I'm her boyfriend." He moved past the freckled man to your side and took your hand.

"I see, I can't identify exactly why she passed out but just make sure she's taking enough fluids and isn't overworking herself. If she feels dizzy, bring her back in, alright?"

Chan nodded. "Thank you doctor."

"My pleasure." The doctor nodded and left the room.

Chan looked at the freckled man.

The freckled man looked from Chan to you and back at Chan.

Chan's eyes narrowed.

"I'll take my leave." the freckled man looked at you.

"Soojin. Jaehwa." You smiled at your friends. "I'm fine. You guys can go."

Soojin walked to the other side of your bed and hugged you. "If you say so.."

Jaehwa smiled. "Take care of yourself."

You nodded and smiled.

Chan looked at you as Jaehwa closed the door behind him. "You've seen him."

You looked into Chan's eyes. "What is he?"

Chan bit his lip. "The only one of us who didn't fall all the way. Stay away from him."

You were in your apartment packing a week later, when Soojin came knocking on your door. She took you back to your old office to collect your things. You were siting through what was important to you and what wasn't when Soojin sighed.

"What is it?" You looked at her.

"You didn't hear the news?" She raised a brow before shrugging. "Then again you were fired-"

"Quit. I quit." You corrected her.

"Yeah sorry." She laughed. "But... Mr. Cho killed himself..."

Your eyes widened. "What...?"

"He hung himself in his house apparently, his mistress found him dead and called his wife." Soojin shook her head. "It's sad though, he wasn't a good guy but he was good at managing this place."

"He..." You sat on the floor, staring at the box of your things. You remembered how Chan whispered in Mr. Cho's ear, how Chan scared the man who was harassing you with one stare, how Chan made the freckled man leave.. He didn't... right? He wouldn't....

"Look... whatever made him do that... it must have been a lot.." Soojin closed a box and slid it to you. "We can't be happy he's dead, you can't wish that on anyone..."

You stared at the box of your things and sighed before putting on the lid. "He should rest in peace."

Soojin helped you carry a box down while you carried the other, putting them in her car before driving you back home. You smiled at your fried as you got out of the car and walked back to your apartment. You got in the elevator to go up to your floor ad as you got in a man with baseball cap pulled lower over his face entered.

You didn't think much of it, staring at the number going up on the little screen above the elevator door instead. 2... 3... 4... 5... 6....

The bell dinged at floor 14 and you got off, walking to your door and entering your apartment before locking the door behind you.

You looked at a package on the floor and picked it up, the address read, Lee Sungjin, Staaa St, Apt 153, Seoul, Korea.

You sighed, they always sent the neighbors packages to your apartment, what would Ms Lee downstairs do without you. You set the package on your counter and decided to give it to her the following day. You took a shower to relax before going to wipe the steam from the mirror.

As your palm pressed to the damp glass and you swept it across your eyes widened. The man with the baseball cap was in your mirror behind you. You whipped around only to be greeted by the wall.

"I'm paranoid." You muttered, deciding to brush your teeth and get some sleep. As you got into bed you heard a tapping on your window and glanced at it.

Probably a bird. You shrugged and got into bed.

Another tapping, louder now, and faster, as if whatever was tapping was trying to get your attention. You were about to get up when the tattoo burned. You grabbed it.

Don't go to that window.

The freckled man flashed through your mind for a minute. No... it's something else...

For a brief moment you debated forcing yourself to sleep and running until you found Chan, but then you immediately decided against it. You tilted your head slightly to see what was behind the glass, what could possibly be on the fourteenth floor tapping on your window if not a bird.

You stayed back from the window, easing your body to the end of your bed to see out of the window to your right.

As the full view of the window came into view you relaxed, there was nothing there.

BANG!

You jumped and shrieked, at the mutilated face in your window, skin charred and body shriveled. It slammed its hand on your window, no longer interested in luring you with its tapping.

You fell back off the bed and scrambled into the corner as it banged on the window desperately trying to get in.

You covered your ears and closed your eyes before arms wrapped around you.

"Sssshhhhh..." That lazy, tired voice said softly. Your eyes grew heavy and before you fell asleep you looked up at the man, he had a pretty face, chubby cheeks and eyes like a starry night.

You glanced at the window as you heard it shatter.

"Sleep... I can only help if you sleep.." he breathed.

And you buried your face into his chest and shut the world out before your mind gave into sleep.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you heard piano music. You sat up straight, looking around, you saw Chan at the piano, his hair dark unlike all the other times you'd seen him in your dreams.

"Can you play?" He asked, back turned to you.

"No.." You said softly.

"Come." he motioned for you to sit with him.

You walked to him and sat, he took your right hand in his left and set it on the keys. You turned to him. "I can't play.."

"Doesn't matter. Hit the keys like a mad woman if you want.." He smiled gently.

You blinked several times before pressing a random key. You moved your hands along the keys tapping black and white keys just smiling at how the notes melded together in a chaotic sound.

Chan watched you for a moment before finally saying, "You know I want to protect you right..."

Your hands froze.

"There's so many things I want to show you.."

There was a pause, in which you wanted to ask him. But he couldn't have. Not aft-

"I know what you're thinking and what you want to ask." He whispered.

You looked at him. "Did you?"

"No." He sighed. "I don't kill people pointlessly. Even if I wanted to.."

"I knew you couldn't have..." You relaxed.

He tilted his head. "Then why were you wondering?"

"You and your brothers are unpredictable is all." You laughed at the look on his face.

"Maybe I should be more predictable so you aren't always on your toes." He smiled, not a prideful smirk or a small shy smile but a real teasing smile and your heart fluttered. He took your hand in his and whispered, "I know it seems like we don't care but trust that we do.." He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently before muttering. "And I will protect you myself. No matter what.."

You stared at demon in front of you. He looked so human to you, so natural and real as you reached your hand out and caressed his cheek.

He leaned into your touch and opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him before he could get a word out. He relaxed and kissed you back, pulling you against him.

You gasped softly as he fell against your bed, you straddling him, he looked up at you, his pretty dark eyes locked on yours. He laid there beneath you only in a pair of sweatpants, his hands were set on your thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles. You touched his chest hand moving lower to his chiseled abdomen.

"Are you just going to admire me?" He laughed slightly.

You rolled your eyes and leaned down, your lips meeting in a tender kiss that he quickly turned hot and passionate, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. You moaned softly and felt the smirk growing on his lips before he flipped you over, smiling down at you. He pulled your shirt off your body, lips going to assault your neck. For a moment you stared at the window but Chan grabbed you face and made you look at him.

"it's gone." He muttered, "It's just us." He looked into your eyes. "They know not to touch what's mine when I'm here." He moved lower kissing your abdomen and down to your thighs nipping at the skin.

You let out a soft sigh grabbing his hair. Chan pulled off your pajama pants and kissed your clothed heat before dragging the panties off your legs. His lips wrapped around your clit, as he eased two of his fingers into you. You let out a soft cry squirmed, his free hand came up to hold your hip.

You whined and bucked but he held you firmly, the hand moving to press down on your center. "No.." He said lowly.

The vibrations drew a moan from you and Chan hummed, fingers moving slowly, aggravatingly so. You whined and bucked slightly.

He looked up at you, "Say please."

"Your ego is so huge." You muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. "Please.."

"Good girl." He pulled out his fingers and kissed your stomach, climbing on top of you.

You tugged at his sweats and he smiled removing them with your assistance before kicking them off his legs and to the floor. He kissed you gently as he sank into you.

You whimpered at the stretch and he smirked slightly. "Too big?"

You bucked your hips up to his. The demon gasped and glared at you.

You smiled innocently. Chan smirked and muttered. "I'll take that as a no.." He gripped your hips and pulled out before slamming into you again, your body jerked up the mattress as he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard. You moaned and gripped the sheets.

Chan's hand found yours and pressed it into the mattress, the sound of skin smacking skin filling the room as his cock bullied into you. "Look at me when I'm making you cum." He muttered, leaning down, his lips hovering over yours.

You looked up into his eyes and your pussy clenched. He groaned and let go of your hand in favor of holding your face gently. "So tight.. so perfect..." He grunted against your lips before kissing you hard. His tongue clashing with yours, swallowing your cries as he moved faster, spiking your g-spot again and again.

His hand moved to grip your throat gently. "So pretty.." he pulled back, "Are you going to cum for me? Show me how much you love taking my dick?"

You nodded, mewling as his grip tightened slightly on your throat, not to hurt you just to keep you in place, yet your hands still flew up to grip his wrist and forearm, for something to ground you as he plowed into you.

"Cum for me." He moaned o low it came out in almost a growl.

Another buck of his hips sent you toppling over the edge and he let himself fall over you, grinding into you as he reached his peak with you. Groaning and muttering, "You did so good for me..." he kissed your cheek gently and pulled himself off you, rolling onto his side and hugging you to his chest.

"Thank you.." You muttered softly.

He looked down at you, "What for?"

"For always saving me." You kissed his pec and watched in the moonlight pouring in from your window as his ears turned red.

You giggled.

"There's really so much I want to tell you." he said quietly.

"Why not tell me now?" You poked him.

"Because I don't think you're ready yet." He said simply.

"Oh but fuck me why don't you." You rolled your eyes slightly.

"Should I?" He smirked at you.

"Not literally-" You started but he kissed you, effectively shutting you up.

You woke up the next morning and found Chan next to you, hair a mess, peacefully sleeping. You took him in, you caressed his face gently, and took a moment to just admire him.

His eyes opened slightly and he said softly, "I can feel you staring, y'know."

Your face got hot. "That's not fair! You can't jus-"

Chan kissed you gently and smacked you with a pillow before sprinting to your bathroom. He poked his head out and stuck his tongue out at you before closing the door.

You stared in shock for a moment, pulling the blanket over your chest. When did he become so playful...

You crumbled to your knees outside the apartment. You saw the blood plastered on the wall, in an ugly horrendous smelling, splat. Your hands immediately flew to your face and you dropped the package, one of the police walked out and grabbed you. "You shouldn't be here ma'am-" He started.

Your eyes widened, silencing the man as one of his fellow officers said "We found her.."

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of her, eyes gone, the jaw slack open like the bones connecting her jaw were broken, you were about to pass out at the sight of her body from the breasts down burned.. shriveled like- a memory of the thing at your window a few days before flashed in your mind as you fell and Chan caught you.

"Y/n..." He shook you slightly.

You remembered the man in the elevator, how he hid his face. The thing in the window, the way you felt the hands round your throat. You trembled. And whoever killed Mr. Cho..

Chan shook you again and you looked at him. He took in your face for a moment before he looked up, eyes widening, he held you a little tighter, his eyes emitting a violet glow. You heard his voice in your head before you reached for him.

Something was here.

You didn't move a muscle. You had never seen Chan like this. Even with the whole Juwon situation. He looked genuinely concerned and the aura of possessiveness you felt radiating from him was almost overbearing.

It's not safe here...

You looked up at him as he lifted you in his arms. Why wasn't it safe? What happened to Ms. Lee? Why was Chan acting like this?

We'll come back for your stuff another day.

Soemthing told you to pick up the package and as you moved to do so Chan swept it up and moved to carry you away when a police officer stopped him.

"May I ask you two a few questions?"

Chan looked at him for a moment. "She's in shock. Try again later." He tried to move past the policeman.

"Sir, this woman came here as if knowing something happened."

You stiffened and Chan lowered you to your feet, stepping between you and the officer.

"Chan-" You started but you felt it again, the overbearing possessive aura radiating off him.

"She doesn't know anything." Chan said lowly.

The policeman's eyes widened slightly before he relaxed. "Whatever you say.." He moved aside.

Chan pulled you behind him briskly. You looked back at the policeman but he was gone. You blinked in confusion for a moment and turned to look at the demon dragging you. "Wha-"

"There's no time." Chan said before pressing the down button on the elevator. "It's not safe here anymore."

You were about to ask why but he pushed you into the elevator and pushed the button to your floor. As the elevator when down one floor Chan ushered you into the hall and you grabbed your keys about to start looking but then you saw him. The man with the baseball cap, only now you could see his eyes from under the hat, completely black with thin red slits. He turned to you completely but Chan put you behind him and stared daggers at the man in front of your door.

Chan backed up to the elevator and pushed the button to go down.

You looked at him as the elevator descended to the ground floor. "What-"

Chan looked at you. "You... are a very valuable human."

You leaned against the railing of the balcony of your hotel room. Chan had left you here while he got everything else ready for your move to his house. You stared at the city lights below, it was a very expensive hotel, and despite your protests that a less lavish place would be better Chan refused stating the security knew you and would defend you very well.

You hugged yourself for a moment, thinking about everything. Mr. Cho's suicide, how brutally Ms. Lee was murdered, the thing you saw outside your window that night, the man with the baseball hat standing outside your apartment. You looked at the package in your hands.

"I've been looking for a minute to catch you alone." a deep voice said behind you. That deep voice.

You turned to look at the freckled man, the angel. He took a step towards you and you took a step back, holding the package tightly

"Are you afraid of me?" He reached for you but hesitated, eyes flicking to the mark on your neck.

You didn't answer, debating if you could sprint past him back into your hotel room.

"I wouldn't do that." He smiled sweetly. "Let's just talk okay?"

You dodged as he reached to touch you again. "I'll scream..."

"What has Chan told you..." He walked towards you.

You took a step back and then you were pressed against the railing. "What's important."

"Has he?" The man took another step and you tensed. "You have no where left to go but down. So, let's talk. So neither of us fall."

"What do you want?"

"Don't you want to know why those things are looking for you?" He lifted his hand and a leather book appeared in a cloud of black. He held it out to you. "Don't you want to know what Chan did to you?"

The mark on your neck burned. You looked at the book and then back at the... what was he? He wasn't an angel, you didn't think anymore...

"Well?" He shook it in front of you temptingly.

You bit your lip. "What's in it?"

"What you're looking for."

The mark on your neck throbbed but you almost couldn't feel the pain as you reached for the book.

Someone's here...

A smile spread across his face as your finger tips met the aged leather of the book.

You moved to the railing and started to open the book's first page.

"Go ahead." He pushed the book fully into your hand.

You flipped it back at his face. He stumbled catching the book before you threw yourself back off the side of the balcony.

"What are you-" he bellowed, running to the edge as you fell back. His face hardened as you landed securely in Changbin's arms.

The demon spread huge bat wings, bracing his impact against the side of the hotel. "Chan sent me." He pulled his wings in close before pushing away from the building.

You looked at the... angel? still on your balcony. He watched you go for a moment.

"Why isn't he following..." You asked quietly.

Changbin pulled up and slowed down, stopping the air whooshing past your ears. "Even if he could throw himself with enough momentum, he can't fly. Not anymore."

You remembered how one of his wings fell from his back in ash. "Oh.."

You stayed quiet most of the way to Chan's home, you blinked a few times, trying not to fall asleep.

Changbin smiled. "You can sleep, I won't drop you. But what's that package..?"

You looked at Ms. Lee's parcel for a moment. "Something for a friend." You said softly.

He kept flying without pushing anymore. You yawned after a while and did fall asleep. It was the first time you'd slept well in so long, even though it was a short nap (Changbin's landing wasn't the best).

You jolted awake as he stumbled wings flailing backwards to halt his stumbling. He smiled sheepishly, apologizing for waking you as he set you down, motioning to the large house behind you. "Tada!" He smiled. "Awesome right?"

You nodded, looking at the white bmw outside the house. You had never seen that car before.

"Oh," Changbin motioned to it. "Minho's."

You nodded.

He led you into the house and Chan was waiting with Hyunjin in the foyer. The latter ran to you the moment his rose colored eyes set on you. He grabbed your shoulders, inspecting you from head to toe for a moment before Chan pulled him back. He searched your face for a moment and turned to Changbin, "He followed?"

Changbin shook his head and sighed. "I flew pretty fast."

Chan nodded and smiled at you, looking at Hyunjin, "Take her, I have to deal with something."

Hyunjin smiled and motioned for you to follow. As you were going to follow him, he put his arm in front of you, you looked towards the spiral stairs where Hyunjin's gaze was locked.

Minho came down the steps and he stared at you before looking at Chan. "Really?"

"Listen-" Chan started.

"Nope." Minho turned on his heel and went back up the stairs.

"Don't mind him." Hyunjin took your hand and led you up the stairs and around the corner motioning to a door. "Changbin is there. He pointed to the room across the hall from it, "Jisung," He motioned to the door next to it and stopped. He sucked in a breath and motioned to the last five, "Jeongin, mine, Seungmin, Minho, and all the way at the end of the hall is Chan."

"Where am I-" you started.

"In Chan's room."

You turned to look at him. "Huh-"

Hyunjin blinked. "Or would you prefer mine...? Jeongin and Changbin sleep pretty uncomfortably, and I think Minho might actually feed you to his pets. Seungmin would do something stupid. and.. Jisung doesn't exactly have a bed."

You pursed your lips. "It's fine.."

"Chan barely sleeps anyway, that's why he wanted you to take his bed." Hyunjin smiled and motioned to his bedroom door. "I'm right there if you need anything."

"Thanks..." You blinked.

"Of course." He kissed your cheek gently and smiled. "Sleep well."

You opened the door to Chan's room and entered slowly, looking around, it was different from the room you'd see in your dreams, there was still a desk in the corner, his big bed, with soft dark sheets but there was a TV, a door to his bathroom and another to his closet.

You opened it and looked at his clothes, most of the things were dark, dark blues and greys and so much black. You stared at the few white shirts he had and huffed softly. "No pjs."

You looked at the other side at his more casual wear and smiled slightly as you were greeted by a dark hoodie. You changed out of your clothes from that day into the hoodie and your underwear and tossed around the pillows a bit on the bed before deeming it comfortable enough and getting under the covers. You looked around for the remote a bit before you found it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. You reached and turned on the TV, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

You found some random horror movie to watch and stared at it for a moment. After a few seconds the killer came around and stabbed one of the characters multiple times before stomping on them. You cringed, the camera panned down to the person laying lifeless, jaw slack as if broken. Your stomach flipped and your turned off the TV.

You kept replaying it in your head. We found her.

The sight of Ms. Lee's mutilated corpse.

"You seem upset..."

You jumped as Chan slid into the bed next to you.

"It's just me." he laughed and looked at you, eyes locked on yours before he whispered. "Don't watch movies like that."

"Sorry." You muttered, leaning against him.

"Don't apologize." he hugged you to him.

You didn't say anything to that as his hand rubbed your shoulder gently.

"What did he tell you?" he finally said, you wouldn;t have heard if the room wasn't so quiet.

"He had a book.." You replied.

Chan didn't respond but he tensed and you looked up at him.

"He said he could tell me what you couldn't."

"Do you believe him?" Chan asked, gaze on the blank TV screen.

"No..."

"Good." He whispered, kissing your head gently. "Go to sleep, 'kay?"

You nodded and tried to relax.

You honestly didn't know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the field of flowers and stood.

You turned a couple of times, confused.

The man stood there, his eyes a vibrant blue. His lips started moving but you couldn't hear him. Why couldn't you hear him...

He noticed your confused expression and his face fell, he bent over, grabbing a bunch of flowers and grass, using them to write out, "You can't hear me?"

You nodded.

He kicked the flowers and looked very angry for a moment before he grabbed them and started spelling something out but he stopped, standing to his full height he looked at you.

You blinked and took a step back. He shook his head frantically before tapping his wrist.

"We don't have time...?"

He nodded, pointing to his neck then at you, then his ears before crossing his arms.

"I can't hear you because of my neck... oh? the tattoo?"

He nodded fervently and bit his lip, brows furrowing, he pointed to his neck again.

"The tattoo?"

He raked his thumb across his throat in a slit motion.

"The tattoo is going to kill me?"

He smiled and nodded.

You looked down for a moment. "How? Why? Chan wouldn't- he-"

He held his hand out and the leather bound book flew past the flowers and into his grasp.

He used his free hand to make a drinking motion.

"Drink?"

He shook his head, you noticed the sun was darkening, the man's movements becoming more desperate. His eyes widened and he mimicked rubbing them before yawning and doing the drinking motion.

"Coffee?" You guessed.

He nodded and tapped his wrist before lifting both hands into the air, straight up in a point.

"At noon..." You tilted your head, "Where-"

He shrugged and pointed to you.

You were about to guess again but the ground shook and split open beneath you. You grabbed around in the dark before closing your eyes tightly. And you fell back into your body, you opened your eyes slowly and looked around the room.. You were alone.

The next morning you saw someone in the kitcen, recognizing Minho you turned on your heel and tried to run somewhere else but you were stopped by a "You're not that sneaky."

"Oh come o-" You started.

Minho stabbed the knife he was using to cut the fruit into the cutting board and looked over his shoulder at you. "Are you so scared of me?"

"You came at me with a power drill-"

"You're human."

"Wow thanks for noticing." You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, muttering to yourself as you fiddled with the coffee maker.

Once you got the coffee going, it was quiet all except for the soft trickle of the coffee into the pot.

Minho went to the stove and started making eggs. "Hand me that." he motioned to the pepper.

You handed it to him and he kept shook a little onto the eggs.

"Can you cut that?" he motioned to an onion. "Rough chop."

You did as he told you and he hummed softly when he took them from you. When majority of the things were done you smiled, turning to get a mug from the cabinet, coffee, finally...

You paused as Minho pressed behind you, breathing in your ear. "Is something wrong?"

You held your breath half expecting him to snap your head off, but he rested a hand on your hip.

"So easily scared but such big talk." He huffed a small laugh. "Stupid human."

Your face burned as he handed you a mug, "I'm not stupid..."

"You sure?" He tilted your head so you looked up at him.

Your heart stopped, when he didn't look like he wanted to kill you, he was really attractive.

"You humans faces really give away so much stuff about you." he mumbled, you could feel his breath on your lips. "No wonder Chan likes you. Such a slut." he pulled your hair and you gasped. He pressed harder against you, crotch rubbing against your ass as he breathed, "Lucky me I didn't mark you." He pulled away leaving you feeling hot and bothered.

"Hey!" You huffed, rubbing the back of your head.

He grabbed mug from the cabinet and walked over the coffee maker as if he hadn't just disrespected you like that.

"Asshole." You muttered.

He turned back to whatever he was doing, sipping his coffee, and for a brief moment you swore you saw a small smile on his face.

You somehow made it out of the house without Chan or the others suspicion, it was one meet up.. nothing could go wrong.

Or so you thought.

You went to a coffee shop near the house in case you needed to book it, you weren't afraid of him (you were), what could he possibly do? He couldn't even fly (but neither could you).

"The tattoo makes you more attractive to demons. Chan claimed you." He huffed softly. "It's also why you can't hear me."

"What does the tattoo have to do with the things I've seen?" You pursed your lips.

"Those things.. are demons ." He looked at his cocoa, "Think about how many demons want a part of the strongest's power? To crawl up to his level of strength?" He huffed a laugh. "The Sin of Pride isn't something to be tossed around uselessly." He leaned forward, and for a brief moment his eyes looked manic. "So, why would he choose a human like you..."

You squeezed your mug and exhaled.

He slid the book across the table. "This has more answers."

You looked at it. "What is it...?"

"A gift."

You took the book cautiously and opened it. The pages were blank... all of them. You flipped from left to right brow furrowing. "Why-"

"Read it in a church. The words only appear in the lord's house." He stood and stretched.

"Wait!" You stood as well.

"Hm?"

"Who are you? Why don't the others trust yo-"

"Call me your guardian angel." He smiled. "I'm going to save you from them all." He smiled and walked away.

You looked at the book before looking back at your "guardian angel", he had vanished, completely gone in the crowd.

You had a bit of time to yourself so you ended up going to the church. The pastor was doing something at the sanctuary, you entered silently and closed the door behind you. It had been a long time since you'd been in such a place. You dipped your fingers in the water at the front and performed the sign of the cross.

You walked further into the church and moved to sit on a pew, you grabbed the book from your bag and were about to open it when the pastor greeted you.

"It's not often young people like you walk into the house of god." The pastor tilted his head at you.

"I'm just... thinking a lot." You said dismissively.

"About?" He asked clearly trying to get something out of you. "I see you're very devoted." He motioned to the tattoo.

"Oh-" You almost laughed. "Yeah... Very..."

"So what's on your mind child?"

You pursed your lips. Could you really tell him about the book..? "Well... I've been interacting with certain people recently." You reached into your bag. "Things have been happening recently."

"Because of those people?" the pastor sat beside you.

"So I've been told." You pulled out the book. "And this... has the answers."

He blinked a few times. "What is it..?"

You shrugged. "I can't read it anywhere but a church so.."

The pastor took the book from you and opened the first page. You looked over his shoulder, hoping to see words.. and there was nothing.

You grabbed the book and slammed it shut, opening it again.

Nothing. nothing but aging yellow blank paper.

"I don't- he said..." You opened and closed the book a few more times.

"Now," the pastor took th book from you and rested on the seat. "There's only so much that God can do perhaps first, you should direct yourself to a mental health prof-"

"Are you calling me crazy?!" You looked at the man.

"No- just-"

"I know it sounds crazy but this tattoo the book- the things I've been seeing-"

"I don't really think-

"You don't understa-"

Thunder clapped outside and you turned to the window as it started raining.

"That wasn't in the forecast.." The pastor stood up and sighed. "I'll get you an umbrella so you don't get wet when you go out there."

You shoved the book into your bag. "It's fine."

"I really insist. I could not help you and-" The pastor froze, gaze locked on the church doors.

"And nothing." You stood and turned but the pastor grabbed you and held out his bible.

You finally looked at the doors. the man with the cap stood there. His eyes completely black, gaze locked on you and the pastor.

"In the name of Jesus..." The pastor moved slowly from between the pews, backing you up behind him. "I cast thee from this holy house."

The man with the baseball cap took a step forward and for the first time you felt something heavy weighing down on you.

"In the name of the lord, our savior, you shall not walk upon this hallowed ground."

The tattoo burned and you clutched your neck. The pastor grabbed his cross and held it out.

The man stopped, staring at you from under the rim of his hat.

"Child what's wrong-"

You gasped in pain as you felt your tattoo being undone and redone over and over. The pastors eyes widened and he stumbled back away from you in shock.

"You bear the mark of a demon! You see things! You- In the nam of Jesus Christ I remove this evil from you!"

You collapses and held your neck, it felt like the skin on your neck was being torn off your muscle. Your hand instinctively held on to the tattoo.

"I cast out this wicked being from this daughter of the lord!"

And then you felt the burning. Like your whole body was fire. A brief image of the freckled angel burning in the hallway flashed through your mind and you let out an ear piercing shriek.

"I beg of you lord free this chi-"

You hugged yourself, it burned. You remembered how Chan had smiled at you, how Changbin had offered to share his food, the sight of Jeongin counting his money, Hyunjin sitting there painting anything and everything. This couldn't be it.

You saw the blood before you realized what happened. Your eyes went wide, the burning stopped.

And the pastor's head was gone.

When Minho saw his older brother writhing in bed and clawing at the frame as if he were in pain he thought three things. The first was that judgement day had finally arrived and he and all his brothers were about to burn in holy fire and DIE. The second was that he was going into heat and resisting the urge not to find you his precious human and fuck the daylights out of you. And the third... he didn't want to think about the third.

Because why on earth would you ever try to get rid of his brother?

"Minho!" Chan jerked up and looked at him. "What is she doing..."

Both men stared at each other before Minho turned and went straight out the door.

Chan tried to stop him. "Minho- Don't" He got up but collapsed, "JEONGIN!"

"Hyung-" the younder demon stared at his brother in shock. "Why are you on the ground-"

"Minho's going to kill her-"

"Hyung I can't stop him-"

"MINHO!" Chan shouted.

MInho tore through your old apartment and found nothing. He considered paying that man who wouldn't leave you alone a visit but decided against it, then he remembered. Changbin mentioned you had a run in with... that thing.. at your hotel.

So when Minho realized you were breaking the pact without realizing he went straight to all the nearest churches. After scaring the living daylights out of several nuns, interrupting a baptism and a small wedding he found you in a church near a coffee shop.

He braced himself to enter, the storm outside whipping his hair into his eyes. Why the hell were you here in the first place? He threw the doors open just in time to see the man with the baseball cap pouncing on you, no not a man. That devil..

Minho threw himself at him with such force, both of them flew and hit the floor of the sanctuary, skidding across the floor as Minho wrapped his hands around the thing's neck.

You sat up and scrambled back, your hand touched blood and you looked at the pastor's body. You started hyperventilating, you needed to leave. You needed to run. You looked at Minho who was still slamming the man's head against the steps of the sanctuary.

You got up and took off running, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get to the church doors, you crashed against them fumbling to pull them open when a hand slammed beside your head. The wood of the door cracking as it slammed shut.

You didn't dare move. You couldn't even breath, watching as the blood seemed to waft off his hand in ash.

"Explain." he said lowly.

You didn't speak. You didn't turn around, eyes still glued on the door in front of you. Minho grabbed you shoulder and turned you around pushing you against the door, his red eyes narrowed.

"Were you trying to kill Chan.."

"What?" You were confused, "Kill him?"

"You really want to act stupid?!" He snapped.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND! He told me the damn book would show the words in a church so I came here and-"

"Who?!" Minho glared down at you.

"The guy with the freckles.." You muttered.

Minho stared at your tear filled eyes and pulled away releasing a heavy sigh. "What book?"

You stood and walked between the pews grabbing your bag and pulling out the book.

Minho took it from you, flipping through the pages, "It's blank."

"He said it wouldn't be if I read it in a church." You whispered.

"He said that to kill you and Chan." Minho gripped the book tightly in his hands and the it went up in flames in his grasp. "Do you know what that tattoo means?"

You nodded. "Chan said because I'm hi-"

"Because you're his." Minho rolled his eyes. "Without sugaring it over. Chan made a pact with you. Even if that pact is broken and the mark is removed, remnants of Chan's power are still in you. To have the power of one of us, and no one to save you it makes you an easy target."

"He said he was helping me-" You thought about how innocent his smile was then how Chan had said not to trust him. Tears filled your eyes, you were an idiot, you were so stupid, you- you-

"He lied to you."

And you believed it. You sat on the floor beside the pew and stared at a sheet of paper burning on the ground from the book.

"I don't know if it works like this." Minho muttered to himself.

"What?" You looked up.

He turned away for a moment, staring.

"Minho-"

"Do you trust me?"

"I-"

"Do you?" he got on his knees in front of you.

You stared at the demon. Who attacked you with a power drill. Who scared the living shit out of you every time you saw him. Who just saved your life. You nodded.

Minho grabbed your wrist and pulled it to his mouth, you jerked but his grip tightened and you pulled back he fell over you as his fangs sank into your wrist.

You gasp as you felt your wrist throb and your neck burned. Just as the church doors flew of the hinges and your head turned seeing Chan standing at the door.

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK

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[miasmal-sweetness]

Eye Level

NSFW - MDNI - 18+ ONLY

My brain is currently refusing to cooperate and work on any other writing until I spit out my dumb little one-shot with my favorite trope (size differences) with one of my favorite demons. So here ya go. Hopefully I’ll be back to writing out my planned Cloud fics afterwards.

Eye Level

Summary: Alastor x reader. 4.1k. You're short. You know it, everyone at the hotel knows it. You've assumed that it's some sort of divine punishment for whatever sins you committed while alive, but it's really not so bad, as long as no one hides your step-stool. Today, you've found a new problem with it, though, when you try to get a little closer to your favorite 7-foot-tall demon.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dead dove do not eat, size difference (reader reaches Alastor’s hips), smut, reader is gender-neutral with reference to having a vagina, reader wears a dress and bloomers, Alastor being sadistic, reader being a masochist, Alastor calls you “good girl” because I’m a sucker for it

The red light of the sky outside is bleeding in to the hotel, burning your eyes and causing an ache in your head. You want to shut it out, but Niffty is busy cleaning all the windows. Rubbing your right temple, you shift on the couch in an attempt to angle yourself away from the worst of the light as you continue to read your book. The words on the page seem harsher than before against the rough, yellowed pages. In addition to Earth’s actual sunlight, you also find yourself missing the convenience of heading out to the pharmacy to pickup some painkillers that weren’t illicit substances.

“Something the matter, dearest?”

You lift your head at the sound of Alastor’s voice. He’s blocking the light as he stands in front of you, his long shadow easing the pain in your head. You have to crane your neck to look at his smiling face, but you’re used to it at this point.

“Oh, I just have a headache,” you say with a light shrug. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

“Wonderful as always, darling,” he assures. “Why don’t you join me for a cup of coffee upstairs? I’ve found it works like a charm for a headache.”

You perk up at the thought. It’s a little late in the day to have coffee, but you’re not one to turn down a drink and a snack with Alastor. You take care of most of the cooking for the hotel, since Niffty took over your old job of cleaning, so having something made by another person is a nice treat. Plus, he’s good company—he’s the most polite person you think you’ll ever meet in Hell.

“I’d love to,” you say, sliding off of the couch. You smooth out your dress and tuck your book under your arm; you can finish it another time. Your certain that if you were taller, Alastor would do the gentlemanly thing you see him do with others and link arms with you, but that’s not really possible at your height. Instead, he leads the way by engulfing your little hand with his.

You’re barely focused on the small-talk he makes with you as he guides you up the stairs. His gloves are smooth, and you can feel his claws tickling the skin on your wrist and hand. You know that, as much as Alastor enjoys invading other people’s personal space, he does not enjoy allowing others in to his personal space. Despite this, he has been rather open to your presence; picking you up, holding your hand, ruffling your hair. It feels nice. It makes you feel special—like he’s bestowing an honor on you just by patting you on the head, one that the others don’t get.

You nearly trip over a step, and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Alastor stops you from hitting the ground by extending his arm, letting you put your weight on him for balance.

“Careful, dearest,” he chides, “I’m not always here to catch you.”

Your headache is back, caused by the heat rushing to your face and chest. “Right, thank you,” you mumble, ducking your head. “I-I was just thinking.”

“About what?” You should have seen that coming.

Your eyes dart around as he guides you towards his room. “Uh, j-just—the book you lent me,” you spit out. “I’m almost finished with it. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says, holding open the door for you. “It’s not often I meet another down here that enjoys a good book.”

You smile and step in to his room—immediately, you’re hit by the scent of paper, candles, wood that is well-cared for, and decaying leaves and other plant matter. You know his room changes. You know that what you see is different from what the others see when they enter. You’ve heard them mention the swamp that makes up half of the room, often complete with a decaying deer. Every time he has invited you in, however, it has been nothing other than a lovely room that looks like it belongs in some fancy townhome from the 1920s.

Just another thing that makes you feel special.

“If you have a favorite book, I’d love to read it,” you suggest as you slip out of your shoes.

Alastor’s grin grows even wider than usual. “Really? Well, I’ll have to think about it; I have quite a few in my collection that I favor.” It’s a lie, an excuse to put this off for later. There’s something he doesn’t want you to see. You can sense it, deep down in your gut, but you ignore it. He’s always shielded your eyes from the bad—from the gore of Hell, from those that would try to take advantage of you, even from some of the arguments among the others. This is no different.

Moving on from the topic, Alastor snaps his fingers, and a tray of coffee and small snacks appear on his dining table. He’s added cream and sugar for you; he doesn’t understand your sweet-tooth, but he does indulge it.

“Oh, and a treat for you, little one.”

He snaps his fingers again, and when you next blink your eyes, you find that a dish has appeared on the tray. It’s a slice of cake—the same you remember ogling outside the bakery window the last time you went outside the hotel. The hotel doesn’t offer payment for your services, so your measly pocket change was not enough to get it. He must have noticed your longing for that delicious, soft piece of cake. You don’t even remember the last time you had the luxury of cake. The last time was probably when you were alive, and you have the feeling it was one of those store-bought cakes that are dry and covered in thick, sickeningly sweet icing.

This cake is fancy. This cake is fluffy and standing tall, covered in berries and whipped cream with just the right amount of sweetness. And most of all—it means that Alastor paid that much attention to you on a silly outing that he didn’t need to be a part of.

“Thank you, Alastor!”

You throw out your arms and wrap them around him. It’s a chance as good as any. The closest you have come to hugging him is when he’s picked you up and carried you around like a doll. Surely a gift like this means he would be okay with it—although, the second you touch him, you realize you’re probably reading a little too much in to a slice of cake, and maybe it’s because you forgot to eat lunch.

Your arms wrapped around his legs, your feet in between his. And now you remember just how short you are compared to him. Normally, you’re either staring at the ground or you’re turning your head all the way up to look at his face, which makes it easy to forget that your head reaches an… unfortunate location that you have just unknowingly pushed yourself against.

Your face is burning again. Your head is throbbing. If you weren’t already condemned to Hell, this would probably have gotten you in. Your cheek is right against his groin. You fear looking up at his face for a reaction, but you do it anyway and see that, despite his smile, he looks to be just as shocked as you, if not more. And then it changes. The shock is fading. His eyes are getting darker, and that strange look in his eyes—one that you’ve never seen on him—is directed at you.

You force your body in to action. “I-I’m sorry!” you squawk, stumbling away from him. “Um! I-I just—I was excited; I didn’t mean to—uh, s-sorry, sorry!” You’re clumsily making your way back towards the door, nearly slipping from the lack of friction your socks have on the polished floor.

Alastor takes a step closer to you, and you bristle, picking up the pace. “Ma cher, don’t—”

“Sorry!” you cry one last time, slipping out the door and in to the safety of the hallway. You dash to the end of it and around a corner, where you wait to hear any signs of him following. Nothing. The only thing you hear is your own racing heart and the blood rushing through your body. You feel hot, shaky, and a little sweaty—your feet are sweating through your socks.

Your socks.

You forgot your fucking shoes in his room.

Groaning, you sink down to the floor and peel off your socks, freeing your overheated feet. You replay the event in your mind as you stare emptily at your toes, wiggling them all one by one. You just had to go and try to hug him—you couldn’t just be patient and wait for him to one day, just maybe, initiate it himself. At the very least, you could have been more careful. You think it might have been a nice hug otherwise. You can still feel the crisp fabric of his pants and the warmth he radiates; you can smell the light scent of smoke and cologne on his clothes. The button of his pants had been against your cheek, and you have no control against the intrusive thought of how the bulge in his pants had felt.

Smacking your cheeks with your palms, you shake your head, as though it would toss the thought out. You need to stop being a little creep and get your shoes. You have one pair of shoes, and you are not willing to walk barefoot anywhere in Pentagram City. The longer you leave them there, the more likely you are to abandon them entirely in hopes of never having a confrontation with Alastor. Well… maybe you could ask Charlie to get you a new pair of shoes? You groan at yourself; you’re already trying to get out of it.

You push yourself to your feet and dust off the skirt of your dress. You take quiet, slow steps towards his room. You can do this. Just don’t think about it. Did he like it? No, stop it. Did it excite him, like it excited you? Stop that! You’re wet—maybe from fear, maybe from arousal. Your hands are shaking as you reach for the doorknob. You contemplate whether it would be best to knock or simply crack the door open and grab your shoes without entering. Alastor is polite, though; you know he’d much rather you be decent and knock.

Heart racing, chest heaving with tiny and anxious breaths, you tap your knuckles against the door. It opens almost immediately.

“Yes, dearest? Have you calmed down now?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at his face; instead, you resort to looking at your bare feet. “I—um, I realized I forgot my shoes here,” you mumble, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

He laughs at this—it makes you shiver, and you hope he doesn’t notice. “You were in quite the hurry,” he teases. “What scared you so badly, darling?”

You mean to simply snatch your shoes and flee, but the moment you cross the threshold, he’s closed the door behind you. Your heart is pounding, as though it thinks you’re sprinting down a hallway from a monster. But it’s just Alastor! He’s never harmed you, only kept you safe—and yet, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating from behind you; he’s close, and for once, you wish he’d be less comfortable with you in his personal space. Despite this, you can’t bring your dumb feet to move. You are caught like a deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, pet?” He’s never called you that before. It’s new and exciting, even though you internally scold yourself for the warm feeling building up in the depths of your gut. “Why have you gone quiet? You’re not ignoring me, are you?”

His fingers ghost over your hair as he speaks, his hand finally coming to rest on your shoulder. It’s not as though you’re hiding your discomfort well, but that doesn’t stop him. Alastor’s left hand comes from behind you and cups your chin, slowly drawing you back until your spine touches his leg. You shut your eyes. You won’t look at him; it makes you feel at least a little less exposed, even if you know he can see the red in your face all the same.

“I don’t appreciate the silent treatment, dearest,” he warns, giving your cheeks a squeeze. “I guess I’ll have to find a way to snap you out of it.”

You’re lifted off of your feet; the sudden feeling of instability makes you open your eyes, even though you try to resist. Before you can register it, Alastor has dropped you on his bed—a bed that seems rarely used—and is now kneeling before you.

“You’ve been terribly rude, pet,” he chides, resting his hand on your knee. “First you get so close to me, then you run off and leave me wanting? Now you come back and refuse to say a word to me.” He clicks his tongue in disdain; its the feeling of his claws digging in to your skin that truly express his displeasure. You shift in place, but keep your mouth sealed. Your mind is blank, anyhow.

When his claws pierce your skin, you move out of reflex, jerking your leg away from his hand. Alastor’s grip is iron-clad and holds you in place so tightly that you can’t even move it a millimeter. Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and goosebumps are running up and down your arms. Your mind is getting hazy, to the point that your vision blurs as his other hand creeps up the skirt of your dress.

You try to control your breaths, try to look anywhere other than him. He’s relishing the sight of you as his fingers curl around the waistband of your frilly bloomers. He grips your hip harshly—you know it will leave a reminder in the form of a bruise later. His thumb lightly brushes over your clit, and your toes curl in response. It’s like he’s fascinated by the response your body has to it; he’s watching every twitch, shiver, and shake as he toys with you. Finally, a mewl escapes your lips. Something about the noise draws him out of whatever it is that he’s thinking, and he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, darling,” he says, relaxing his grip on you. “So… yes or no?”

This is closer to the Alastor you’re familiar and comfortable with. He looks so calm and pleased that it’s like it’s just another day for him, one where he does not have his hand in your underwear and he’s just making you feel special by gracing you with a pat on your head. The familiarity is reassuring, and you’re such a sucker for how special he makes you feel, so surely there’s no harm in this…

“Yes,” you finally eke out.

Alastor’s grin widens; his thumb immediately resumes teasing you. His other hand strokes up and down your thigh, his claws tickling you and leaving red streaks in their wake. You moan again and are met with the reminder of his watchful gaze; unable to take the feeling of scrutiny anymore, you grab the lapel of his coat and tug on it.

You hear him chuckle and crack your eyes open again. He’s released you—for now—to shrug off his coat and set it aside.

“An eye for an eye, pet?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to agree to this suggestion; he pops open the buttons on the back of your dress in one quick motion. Your dress is pulled from your body, leaving you and your bloomers entirely exposed. You instinctively cover your chest with your forearm. This is hardly an eye for an eye—and you know, deep down, that he knows that and enjoys every bit of imbalance between you two. And you do, too, even if you don’t want to admit it.

His hands are on you again, this time running up and down your waist, back, thighs, and chest. He’s parting your legs and moving in between them, leaning down to press his lips to your throat. You whimper, now suffocated by the dizzying smell of tobacco. Alastor gives you a gentle peck, before his teeth graze your delicate skin and earn a moan from you. You instinctively bristle from the delightful pain, and he pushes your legs apart again.

“Relax, sha,” he murmurs against your neck. “Relax. Would I let you get hurt?”

Yes. He absolutely would. You know that, and you stuff it down. Who cares? Who cares if you get a little hurt? If he lets it happen? If he’s the one to do it, if he’s the one watching and enjoying it, that’s all that really matters.

So you relax for him and melt in to his touch, letting him guide you down to the soft bed. You don’t resist when your bloomers come off. You’re completely exposed to him, and he’s simply standing over you, grinning at the sight. The one sacrifice he does make is his gloves, shedding them to feel your skin in its full glory. His hands are much warmer without his gloves on; the feeling of them rubbing your legs is soothing.

“Alastor,” you mewl—for a moment, you realize just how pathetic and weak you sound, but decide that it’s fine to be pathetic and weak for him and slip back in to your haze. For every inch of fog clouding your mind, Alastor seems to gain a new degree of focus. You can’t tell exactly what it is he’s so focused on, so hungry for, but you enjoy it all the same.

“You sound so lovely when you say my name.” His voice sounds so different now—animalistic, growling. Your heart rate spikes again, but you’re not about to back out now, so you enjoy the adrenaline rush as you gaze up at the ceiling. You hear a shift of fabric, feel him moving between your legs as he looms over you. He slips one hand underneath you to feel the small of your back, and you finally realize what he’s about to—

“Ahh!” you hiss, curling your spine as you reflexively try to escape the source of the pain. You’re brought back to the reality of your situation for a brief moment; Alastor is over seven feet tall, you are definitely not, and he is definitely entirely proportionate for his height. It hurts, worse than anything you think you’ve felt before. You feel like you’re splitting open, despite how wet you are and the fact that he’s barely inside of you.

Alastor’s hands hold you in place by your hip and your arm. You can feel his own excitement and agitation from the tightness of his grip—so tight he’s trembling in the slightest—and the hint of sweat on his palms. “Behave, sha,” he orders through his teeth. He’s trying to suppress your squirming as much as possible, but you can still wriggle in his grip, and every movement of your hips sends a wave of pleasure through him. “Relax and behave.”

Your body is slowly adjusting to the pain, and his voice is bringing you back to that lovely, pleasurable haze. You force yourself to stay still and breathe through it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs with a sigh. “Good girl.” You shudder at the words, and he pushes himself further inside of you. You don’t struggle this time; you simply yelp in pain and squeeze your eyes shut to bear it. He releases your arm to grab you by your chin, forcing your head up. You open your eyes, your face contorted in pain; he’s smiling, of course. It’s a feral, sadistic smile, but it’s not quite the same one you’ve seen before he rips apart some idiot trying to wreck the hotel. This one is different, and you hope it’s one he’s reserved only for you. No matter how frightening it is, you’ll still delight in the honor.

You manage to relax a little more, having adjusted to the feeling of being torn in two. Alastor sighs at the feeling and once again pushes further inside of you. Every effort of yours to behave will be rewarded like this—with more pain, blood, and tears that prick your eyes. You had your chance to say no. You still could. But you don’t. You’re special. He wants you. And you want him—you want him to degrade you, too.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, sha?” he coos in a tone of faux concern. Still, you whimper and nod, curling your fingers in to the linens beneath you. “I know, pet, I know. It must hurt terribly.” Another inch inside of you, another swallowed scream.

“P-please,” you beg. You barely even realize the words are spilling out of your mouth. “I can’t—I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he assures, his hand moving down to your throat. No matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t squeeze. Not yet. He’ll save that for another time, another day. There’s nothing wrong with denying a bit of pleasure now to make it sweeter later. “You can and you will. I will make you.”

You try to scream when you feel the sensation of a burning, sharp pain pierce further inside of you, but he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“No,” he breathes. “You won’t make a sound unless you’re quiet about it. I am the only one who can hear you. This is just for me.”

You swallow back the scream; it feels like it’s still stuck in your chest, making it ache as it tries to beat its way out through your sternum. It’s too painful to breathe. Every single movement is painful. This is as far as he can go without really hurting you—without you truly breaking apart. You can smell blood. You feel like you can maybe taste it, too. The sight of it only spurs him on, and he pounds in to you without any concern for the pain it will cause you.

You can’t even scream; it’s too sudden. Once the waves of pain truly set in, you let out a weak cry and grab on to his arms in an effort to steady yourself. Spots of all colors are appearing in your vision as the sounds of the room—skin against skin, muffled groans that he’s trying to hold back, your own crying—get further and further away. Your grip on him loosens, and he notices.

“I can’t keep going if you’re sleeping, pet,” Alastor taunts, grabbing you by your chin and squeezing. When your pupils only dilate further, he takes a handful of your hair and pulls, giving your head a shake. That does it; you’re awake enough, for now. “There you are.”

You can’t escape the pain. You just have to live with it. Any time he sees you slipping out of consciousness, you’re awakened with a sharp jolt of pain. And now his movements are too fast, too harsh to even begin to pass out. Tears freely flow down your face at this point, as freely as the blood pooling beneath your thighs.

“A-Alastor,” you sob, one hand reaching up for him. “Please.”

The pathetic sight of you stupidly reaching for him is what sends him over the edge. His claws curl in to your skin, and blood drips on to the linens beneath you. He’s looming over you as you feel warmth replace the feeling of an icy knife in your belly, spilling out of you and on to your legs. His eyes are closed, he’s panting, and his brow is furrowed. You like the sight of it, but you can’t fully enjoy it when he’s still causing you so much pain.

Finally, his eyes open, and he pulls away from you without warning, sending another ripple of pain through you. You’re throbbing. You feel like you’ve been impaled and suffocated. You definitely did not cum. And yet, when the look on his face softens, the pain lessens. He’s back to the gentleman you know and adore.

“Oh dear,” he sighs, resting his cheek against his hand—a hand covered in your blood. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

As he helps you bathe and feeds you a potion to help heal some of your wounds, you let that haze settle in permanently in a part of your brain. As long as he makes you feel special, as long as he calls you sweetheart and pet and sha, you’ll take whatever pain he throws at you.

[tokkiwrites]

ㅡㅡㅡ in which Javier Peña has a not so big strong man crush on the new intern.

TW: kind of fluff, age gap (not mentioned tho), pet names, use of Spanish , kind of forbidden love idk, javier is a slut ( barely mentioned in the story just wanted to put it out there) but also hes down BAD for reader, unprotected p in v sex (dont be silly, wrap your willy), afab reader, oh yeah use of y/n and reader is kind of thiiqueee idk what else so lmk if i missed anything!!!!

Javier had been standing outside for a while now, his gaze focused on the dry, concrete pavement in front of the Embassy. He took a drag of his marlboro cigarette and exhaled after a few moments, silently watching as the cloud of smoke wafted away.

The DEA Agent took a glance up at the night sky and the flickering streetlamps that had been due for maintenance years ago. The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his daze, and he then turned his head.

"buenas noches, señor peña!"

it was y/n, the newly arrived intern: a bubbly girl that was way too excited when anyone mentioned criminals, with a smile that made even the sun want to take a closer look.

“buenas noches, querida.” The Texan rasped, his eyes taking note of her outfit. god, what a dress.

"long day, huh?" she asks before reaching her hand out and offering Javier a cup filled to the brim with warm coffee. "i know it's late, but coffee is always good." she smiles intently.

He smiled back, nodding his head in thanks, before accepting the coffee cup in his hands. "thank you, and yes, very long day indeed. this fucking heat isn't helping at all." Javier chuckles as he takes a long sip from the cup.

"i was gonna finish my coffee then head home, my feet are killing me..." she groans. "Also, this dress is horrible...forgot to wear some nylons under it, and now my thighs feel like you could fry something on them."

Javier raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her thighs, his curiosity piqued. smiling in the corner of his mouth, y/n's eyes met his. He then looked down once again for a moment, before chuckling ever so slightly.

"Does that matter when you look so good, hermosa?"

y/n lets out a soft giggle, cheeks turning a pale shade of red, before she slaps his shoulder playfully. "you say that to everyone, señor Peña"

Javier chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly as he took another sip of the coffee. "Only to those who deserve it," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. y/n's blush deepened, and she couldn't help but smile at his response. "Well, I'm flattered..."

As they stood there under the flickering streetlamp, sharing a moment of casual banter amidst the night's shadows, Javier couldn't deny that the unexpected company of the bubbly intern had lightened the weight of the long, tiring day.

He appreciated her energy and enthusiasm, which contrasted the often grim and serious nature of his work.

it's what made him more excited to come to work for the past few months. and buy new clothes...and cologne. Javier will never admit it was for her, though.

"Listen," Javier began, taking a more serious tone, "I know you're new here, and this job can be tougher than it looks. But I've got a good feeling about you, y/n. You've got that spark, and that's something we could use around here."

y/n's s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, señor Peña. I really appreciate that. I promise to give it my all." she nods. " all though...a certain someone who i will not name told me to never ever trust your praises as they're just means to get into someone's pants.." y/n laughed.

"you're too smart for that, muñeca."

Javier smirked, amused by her response. "Well, I can't say I haven't heard those rumors about me before," he admitted, taking another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. "But, let me assure you, my compliments are genuine when they need to be."

y/n's smile was contagious, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll take your word for it."

As they continued to chat and sip their coffee, the night air began to cool, providing some much-needed relief from the scorching heat. Their camaraderie, lighthearted yet sincere, made the hours they spent at the embassy more bearable.

it's been a while since Javier last felt this way with someone. He hated to admit it, but it was true.

Javier couldn't help but reflect on how long it had been since he'd experienced a genuine connection like this. The life of a DEA agent often led to solitude and secrecy, and trust was a rare and treasured commodity in his line of work.

With y/n, though, he sensed a different kind of trust budding. It wasn't just about the job; it was about the shared moments, the laughter.

Javier found himself appreciating the small, subtle details about y/n. The way her hair fell onto her shoulders, as if it were a cascade of silk, had a certain charm that was hard to ignore. He couldn't help but notice how her rosy cheeks seemed to light up every time he complimented her, and it warmed his heart to see her smile so genuinely.

And in that quiet corner of the world, under the watchful gaze of the night sky and the flickering streetlamps, Javier couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed these stolen moments with y/n.

godㅡㅡ he doesn't know if he wants to fuck her or rip his heart out, cover it in glitter and give it to her, for fuck's sake.

his thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as y/n's voice fills his ears again. "i should head home now... what about you? still got work or are you ready to head home? maybe we can walk together!"

"still have some work, querida, but..." he trails off "are you really in a hurry to get home?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to spend more time with Javier and the exhaustion of a long day. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I have an early morning tomorrow, and I should get some rest."

Javier nodded in understanding, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it on the pavement. "I understand, hermosa. You go ahead and get some rest. Don't want you falling asleep during those early meetings."

"so...you're not gonna walk me home?" she sounds kind of disappointed.

shit. she's so cute. someone slap this man. He's supposed to be an untouchable god that every woman wants. yet here he is, almost drooling over y/n.

Javier's expression softened at her disappointment, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her pouting. "Alright, alright, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes. It's not every day I get to walk a beautiful young lady home," he said with a wink.

y/n's face lit up, and she grinned. "You really know how to make a girl's night, señor."

walking together through the dimly lit streets, Javier couldn't deny the way he felt toward y/n. She was indeed beautiful, and her playful banter made him forget about the weight of his responsibilities, if only for a little while.

as they made their way to y/n's house, the wind hummed through the trees, soft creaks from some nearby swings in a park swirling alongside it. the night seemed to embrace them

it was beautiful. she was beautiful. fucking hell man, come on, get it together.

"we almost there, muñeca? you live pretty far away. how do you manage?"

"I've got things that motivate me to manage it."

"things?"

"yeah...stuff, you know? like work...people."

She laughed, and they continued walking together, their conversation ranging from the challenges of their work to the mundane details of their lives. The more they talked, the more Javier found himself drawn to her spirit and charm ㅡㅡ if that possible.

As they finally reached her doorstep, y/n turned to face him, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "Well...we're here." she reaches for the doorknob before hastily turning back to face Javier. "do you want to maybe...come inside and ㅡㅡ maybe talk?"

was he really asking him this? impossible. this is a dream. that's how all of his dreams start. and they end with her under him.

"Iㅡ" he hesitatingly tries to reply "it's fine if you dont wanna! don't even know why i asked you, it's weird, sorryㅡ"

"No, querida, wait. I do." he sighs "I do want to come inside. That's the problem."

y/n's eyes widened with surprise at his response, her cheeks flushing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She stammered, "Oh, uh... can't believe it.. Well, come on in, then!" Her hand shook slightly as she opened the door and gestured for him to follow.

Javier couldn't believe his luck. This unexpected turn of events left him both exhilarated and cautiousㅡㅡ if his boss finds out about this they're both better off as dead. As they stepped into her cozy living room, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension, a delicate balance between temptation and anticipation.

They settled on her couch, sitting close but not too close. y/n nervously played with a strand of her hair, her gaze occasionally meeting his, their eyes locking in a silent, electric exchange.

"y/n, I need to be honest," Javier finally spoke, his voice lower and more intense. "I'm not used to this kind of situation. I'm usually a lot more careful. 's why I try to only get with people who, you know..." he trails off, motioning his hands in the air.

y/n nodded, understanding the weight of their profession and the risks involved when it comes to, well, being amorous. "I get it. It's just... I don't know. There's something about you that's... I feel so silly saying this, god."

Javier leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, y/n"

Their faces drew nearer, the magnetic pull between them impossible to ignore. It was a gamble, a moment of vulnerability neither of them were used to, but they were both willing to see where this unexpected night would lead.

She swallowed hard, the tension between them growing. "I really like you, and i know you probably find me stupid and a klutz and also I'm young, so what do I knowㅡ"

"Woah, querida. Slow down."

Javier placed a finger gently on y/n's lips, silencing her thoughts. "First of all, you're not stupid or a klutz, and age has nothing to do with how you feel, hermosa. And, believe me, you're not alone in those feelings."

y/n's eyes searched his for a sign, a confirmation that he felt the same way. She couldn't help but feel her heart racing in anticipation.

With a soft, reassuring smile, Javier continued, "I've been doing this job for a long time, and I've met a lot of people. But there's something about you.." he looks down at her lips "can I?"

"y-esㅡ"

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between them that felt deeper and more genuine than anything they had experienced before. Javier's hands roamed up y/n's body, pulling her closer to him as the kiss became increasingly intense.

When they finally pulled away, they were left panting, their eyes locked in an electrifying gaze. "fuck, querida," Javier whispered, his voice husky with desire. "do you know how long I've waited for this?"

y/n's breathless response came in a soft, sultry whisper, "not as long as I have.."

javier's lips crash onto y/n's neck, sucking small spots, the skin blooming red as they hastily start to undress each other.

"gonna let me take care of you, muñeca?"

"pleaseㅡ"

fuck, she sounds so desperate.

"i know, hermosa. Mira, déjame cuidarte esta noche."

Javier's fingers dance onto her skin, trailing up to where her bra clasp was. in one swift motion he relieves y/n, letting her breasts fall down into one of his palms.

inching closer, he starts to trace kisses down her neck to her cleavage, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin between her chest. " so beautiful. "

his mustache lightly tickling her as he prepped small kisses all over her, javier pushes y/n onto her back and pulls her hips closer to his by her ankles, drawing a soft whine from the latter. "patience, muñeca. can you wait just a little more for me, huh?"

"y-yesㅡ"

"good girl."

he finally pulls off her panties, tossing them to the side as he spreads y/n's cunt wide open with two of his fingers, analyzing the way it glistened in the dimly lit room. "so pretty. my pretty girl." y/n moans in response.

placing his palm behind her knee, he lift up her legs as to press light pecks onto her plush thighs, his thumb now tracing down to her pulsing clit. javier starts to slowly swirl his finger, still kissing y/n's thigh. "I'm gonna stretch out that pretty pussy, querida, it'll be all you think about."

tracing her entrace with his index, he plunges his finger deep into her, causing y/n to arch her back onto the mattress of the couch. this was it. he was where all of his fantasies led him to. now that he had her, he'll never let go.

cunningly, javier moved his finger into y/n's pussy, squelching sounds and her moans lapping off the walls and into his ears like melodies. "that's right. want you to come on my fingers, hermosa."

it didn't take long for y/n to finally give him what he asked for, coming just from javier's fingers, her body writhing as soft whines dripped from her lips.

"Do you want to continue, querida?" he asks, caressing ar her hips. "please, javier..." and when she pleaded his name in such a way, it sent a jolt up his spine, causing his cock to twitch into his boxers.

"i got you." he smiles, eyes tracing every curve of y/n's body. he takes off his briefs, letting his shaft spring free, small pearls of precum already gathered at the tip. y/n's eyes opened out more as she saw the sheer monster that was about to enter inside of her. "it's fine, querida. it won't bite, hm?" javier hums.

taking his length into his fist, javier pumps it a few times before he aligns it with y/n's entrance that trickled with slick. he teases her clit with the tip of it then goes in, making y/n to claw at his back.

"shh, muñeca. it's okay..." Javier starts to move slowly, gently holding y/n's waist as he lets her adjust to him. sla few strokes after he feels her wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper. "harder, please.." she pleads, the sweetest sounds escaping her plump and swollen lips.

"fuck.." Javier groans, almost coming right then with the way she stared up at him through her lashes wet with tears. "fuck, sweet girlㅡ" he starts to pump inside of her, harder and deeper, roughly hitting that one spot continously.

y/n moans, her head empty, vision blurry, and mouth agape. she was a mess, the prettiest mess he'd ever seen. all because... thanks to him.

the man moves back and forth harshly, feeling himself so close as y/n's valvet walls wrapped perfectly around his cock. "shitㅡ you were made for my cock, muñeca. my pretty, pretty girl." he moans, pressing his head between her breasts, nails digging bruises into y/n's hips.

a few moments later, y/n is completely blank, incoherent babbles skipping from her mouth as Javier fucks deep into her. "you gonna come, hermosa?" y/n nods rapidly "go aheadㅡ fuck! go ahead, come on this cock, show me how good you are to me."

that's all she needed.

she comes once again, nimbly wrapping around javier like a vine, her walls squeezing him so tight it makes his release warm, white ropes inside of her immediately.

they both pant, as they come down from their high. realization sets in as they meet each other's gaze.

"thank god you're only an intern, querida. I'm strictly forbidden to fuck employees." Javier chuckles. "oh, shut up, jerk." y/n huffs, smiling as she presses yet another kiss onto his lips.

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : surprise!!! i honestly dont know what this is.. wanted to try my hand at some kind of romance ig. im also in my javier era SO YEAH. Grammar errors probs, not proofread. this has 2.75k words. THANK U FOR ALL THE SUPPORT <3

[wayfayrr]

just got home from work lol - a dq worker. i had an idea of Time reacting to someone who worked as a fast food worker, specifically dairy queen cause of the potential for a funny interaction: "oh yeah i worked for Dairy Queen™" "you worked for lon lon ranch?"

"no there is literally a company named Dairy Queen.. i sold ice cream.." and then starts a whole conversation on what the hell ice-cream is lmao.

gonna be very honest with you dq-anon hope you don't mind me calling you that I've only really heard of dairy queen through that one girl's tiktoks because they don't exist in the UK dvjcedfc one of my wives (@angry-trashcan) told me more about what they're like and I focused more on the ice cream/ customer service voice part of it - I hope you like it!

“So you've mentioned needing to get back to your own world for the sake of your job, if it's alright may I ask what just what it is?"

"hmm? Sure? it's not really private, the only reason I haven't talked about it is because it hasn't come up in conversation yet."

"I work at a place called Dairy Queen™ or at least I did, they might have fired me…"

Time looks like he's about to ask me a question, not that I can blame him. Our worlds are very different. I doubt he's heard of it ever before. Well, I know that because it doesn’t exist here.

"I don't think I've ever seen you at lon lon ranch before, well and the fact that you've already said you're not from Hyrule."

"... There's a company called Dairy Queen in my world. we sell ice cream."

There’s the look I expected from him, utter confusion. Hyrule really doesn't have anything in common with my own world, nothing I could compare to the chains anyway. How could the post-industrial era even hope to compare to a mediaeval land where magic actually exists?

“...Ice cream?”

Yeah, I shouldn’t have expected him to know what that was. Really though does Hyrule not have ice cream at all? It’s not hard to make; with magic, it can’t be too hard to make a freezer. 

“It’s well, it’s frozen cream with sugar and flavour? Honestly, I’m not sure the best way to describe it when I can't just show you. For now, I’ll just say that it tastes amazing and that you’re missing out.”

“Maybe you could show me some time then, we should be able to find the correct ingredients at some of the villages here and Wild has a spare ice rod or two to freeze it.”

“Keep the money for more important supplies Time,  it’s not that big of a deal.”

Here’s where I’d happily take bets with the others for if he was going to drop it or not, what with how he rarely drops lectures it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t drop it until I agreed with him. But he seems to have more respect for things that people don’t want to talk about with their past than accidents so who knows?

“Aside from that then, what is your work like?”

"It's work..? I mean the only real skills I picked up are accidentally tipping drinks on people and my 'service voice'."

Most of this is just going to be him all confused, isn't it? what I wouldn't do at this point to show him exactly what I mean…

"You haven't got any more questions have you?"

"... what was that?"

"well I can't show you most things are like where I work, but I can show you how I act around customers. So how can I help you sir?"

Laughing at his face was so easy at this point, the fear in his eyes at how much I can change my voice so easily, worse than it's been towards any monster he's faced on this journey. 

He’s more worked up about my voice than the shadow… 

“...please don’t do that again [name].”

“Come on Time, it can’t be that bad can it?”

“You - you can stop pulling that face Old man.”

He really does live up to that name, now I can’t help but wonder if ‘old man’ is Hyrule’s equivalent of boomer, from how they use it? How mean would it be to teach wind and wild what that means? Introduce Hyrule to ‘Ok boomer’. I’d just have to make sure time never learns what it means or that it's from my world.

“Can we just… just go back to explaining what ice cream is?”

“I think I would prefer to tease you more. But fine I can go back to trying to explain it better for you.”

[lilacura]

Her Protection | Ahn Yujin

pairing: ahn yujin x reader

>wc: 831

sypnosis: When a close call leaves Yujin realizing how deeply she cares for Y/N, will she acknowledge the spark between them? Or continue shutting out her own heart in favor of duty?

Y/N sighed as she looked at her outfit in the mirror, a short black dress that she had been looking forward to wearing to Krystal's party all week. But now it seemed her plans were ruined by her overprotective parents insisting she hire a bodyguard after the attempted kidnapping a couple months back.

Y/N huffed in frustration as Yujin shook her head again at the party invitation. "Come on Yujin, it's just one little gathering! You've been my bodyguard for 3 months now, don't you trust that I'll be safe?"

Yujin frowned. "It's not about trust Y/N, I'm being paid to keep you out of danger. And a big social event with strangers is risky, can't you understand that?"

"You're no fun! All you do is tag along behind me like a shadow, I want to have a normal life!" Y/N yelled.

Anger flashed in Yujin's eyes. "Excuse me for taking my job seriously! Do you have any idea how badly I would fail if something happened to you? Just this once can't you cooperate and stay home?"

They glared at each other, tense silence filling the air. Y/N knew Yujin cared deeply even if she didn't express it well. And she truly did feel safer with the guard nearby.

Deflating, Y/N said quietly, "Look, I appreciate your efforts. But being cooped up all the time is difficult, can't you please come with me and we'll both keep an eye out? I'll feel better having you there anyway."

Yujin hesitated, touched by the uncharacteristic pleading. Sighing, she nodded. "Alright fine. But at any sign of trouble…"

Y/N beamed, hugging Yujin impulsively. "I know, we leave. Thank you Yujin!" Her grin was infectious, softening Yujin's stern features into a smile. Maybe this party wouldn't be so bad after all, as long as she looked out for any danger.

When they arrived at the party, Y/N's friend Krystal greeted them happily. Y/N began chatting with her old friend, catching up on the latest gossip.

Yujin scanned the crowded room cautiously, always on high alert. That's when she noticed him—a tall guy with bleached hair leaning against the wall, eyeing Y/N hungrily as she laughed with Krystal. Something about him set Yujin on edge.

She watched him weave through the partygoers until he was right behind Y/N, speaking low in her ear. Y/N turned with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, trying to politely excuse herself. But Bleach Boy reached out to trail his fingers along Y/N's bare arm, making her shiver uncomfortably.

Yujin was there in an instant, placing herself firmly between Y/N and the intruder. "I think she said she's not interested," she growled, noticing the glint of a silver ring pierced through his eyebrow.

Bleach Boy smirked, sizing Yujin up with his gaze in a way that made her fists clench. "Problem, tough guy? We were just chatting." His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes as he leaned in closer, clearly not taking the hint.

That's when Yujin lashed out, kicking him hard where it hurts before fixing him with a cold glare. "Back. Off. Now." Bleach Boy doubled over with a whimper, proving he was all bark. Satisfied, Yujin turned back to Y/N protectively. "Are you alright? Let's go find some better company, shall we?"

The rest of the party passed without incident, though Yujin didn't leave Y/N's side except to refill their drinks. As the crowd started to thin out Y/N turned to Yujin. "Walk me home?"

The walk home was quiet but comfortable, Yujin hyper aware of Y/N walking so close beside her. When they reached the door to Y/N's apartment, Y/N turned to Yujin with a shy smile.

"Thank you for coming tonight, and for protecting me from that creep. I really appreciate you looking out for me." Her eyes were soft and sincere.

Yujin felt her heart swell, wanting to comfort Y/N. "Of course, it's my job to keep you safe. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Y/N searched Yujin's gaze, seeming to find what she was looking for. Before Yujin could process what was happening, soft lips pressed gently against hers.

Yujin stiffened in surprise, eyes flying open wide. But then Y/N made a small distressed noise and started to pull away, mistaking Yujin's reaction.

Seeing Y/N's hurt expression melted Yujin's reservations, and she wrapped her arms around Y/N's waist tenderly. She leaned down to kiss Y/N back slowly, pouring all her feelings into it—her desire to protect, her fondness, her growing love.

Y/N sighed into the kiss, hugging Yujin close. They broke apart with shy smiles, a new understanding blossoming between them under the moonlight. "I've got you," Yujin whispered, and Y/N knew everything would be okay as long as they had each other.

a/n: hi everyone lol

[frogchiro]

GravesGravesGravesGraves

Enemies to Lovers 👀❓️hate sex 👀❓️

Mmmmmm how about reluctant co-workers to lovers? ;;

You're a diamond in the rough as Laswell presents it, a young hacker in her early 20ies found by the CIA due to you messing around in the wrong places at a very bad time and getting yourself caught like and amateur and now here you were.

Scared of all the possibilities of what could happen to you and unbelievably angry at the whole world, at fate for letting you down and at yourself for not being careful enough. And now you're here, seated in a lone gray room, fluorescent lights beating down on your tired eyes and served with an ultimatum: you either start working for them under Laswell's watchful eye or serve the unforgivable life sentence for all your 'crimes'. An easy enough answer isn't it?

And now you're here, stuck with the mercenary group called 'Shadow Company' under the command of Philip Graves, a 'tech-wizard' as some call him. Kate thought it would be a great opportunity for you to get acquainted with the military and what exactly your new job would entail, and since Shadow Company isn't under strict military rules you'd be granted a bit more freedom, and so began your slow, reluctant relationship with commander Philip Graves himself.

It wasn't...bad, exactly. More like tense and extremely mistrustful. He's a straight-cut commander of an army and you're just 'some kid' with a knack for hacking who got bit of more than she could chew and now she's here; not to mention that your stubborness which was more than shared with Graves didn't help at all, it led to many a conflict and long silences on both your sides.

And yet 'life will find a way' as they say and with time your...relationship slowly warmed up. Speaking to each other without the weird tension in your voices, being more relaxed in each other's presence, just slow and gradual building of trust.

It all came to a culmination point where after one very tiring and exhausting mission that left everyone both physically and mentally exhausted you both just...ploped next to each other in the safety of the safe house waiting for exfil. Nothing was said between you two, nothing had to be said as you just stared into the bright, dancing flames of the fireplace and sat in silence, sitting so close together that your shoulders were touching and Philip would lie when he'd say that his heart didn't skip a beat or two.

The combined warmth of the fire and Philip's body and his natural pleasant musky scent made you sleepy, finally able to really rest. Before you knew it your heavy head slipped and laid itself on the male's shoulder, a content sigh escaping your lips as you sleepily smiled and cuddled into his side. Graves was at loss for words for a second; was this the same girl who used to almost hiss at him a few months back? And almost crawl up the walls when she had to be in the general vicinity as him? He supposed it wasn't important now, was it?

He smiled gently as he looked down at you and gently kissed the crown of your head before leaning back against the couch and started to drift off himself, warm and content for the first time in a very long while <3

[calliesmemes]

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS (2012)

A SET OF SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE DIALOGUE FEATURED IN DREAMWORKS’ ANIMATED FILM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Why I am here and what I am meant to do, that I've never known. A part of me wonders if I ever will. ”

“   Oh, uh, excuse me. Can you tell me where I am? ”

“   How many times have I told you to knock? ”

“   We are going to have company. ”

“   It is our job to watch over the children of the world and keep them safe. ”

“   The children are in danger. ”

“   An enemy we have kept at bay for centuries has finally decided to strike back. ”

“   We alone can stop him. ”

“   I obviously wouldn't have called you all here unless it was serious. ”

“   Look, he's up to something very bad. I feel it in my belly. ”

“   I don't have time for this! ”

“   We have a serious situation. ”

“   It's been a long time, old friend. ”

“   Since when do we need help? ”

“   He doesn't care about children! ”

“   Oh, that looks interesting. Good book? ”

“   Come on! You guys will believe anything. ”

“   Okay, who threw that? ”

“   Did you guys see that? It was amazing! ”

“   What's a guy got to do to get a little attention around here? ”

“   But I can do it this time! ”

“   Straight to bed now, mister. ”

“   If there's something I'm doing wrong, can you just tell me what it is? ”

“   Why, there's only one thing missing. ”

“   Feel your fear. Come on. Come on, that's right. ”

“   Don't look at me like that, old friend. ”

“   You must have known this day would come. ”

“   You're not still mad about that, are you? ”

“   You got to be kidding me. ”

“   Oh, yeah, I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal. ”

“  I've heard a lot about you. ”

“   Hey, ho, anyone want to tell me why I'm here? ”

“   I must've done something really bad to get you four together. ”

“   What are you doing? Get off of me! ”

“   What makes you think I want to be a Guardian? ”

“   This is all very flattering, but, uh, you don't want me. ”

“   I don't think you understand what it is we do. ”

“   All the more reason to pick someone more qualified. ”

“   You were chosen! Like we were all chosen. ”

“   You see, you cannot say no. It is destiny. ”

“   No, no. That's not for me! No offense. ”

“   None of them believe in you, do they? ”

“   It's like you don't even exist. ”

“   It's nothing personal. But what you all do, it's just not my thing. ”

“   You must have something very special inside yourself. ”

“   I told you I'm not going with you guys! ”

“   Hold on, everyone! I know a shortcut. ”

“   Oh, thank goodness. One of you is all right. ”

“   I have to say, this is very, very exciting. ”

“   I'm a little starstruck. ”

“   Maybe I want what you have. ”

“   Since when are you all so chummy? ”

“   Oh, good. A neutral party. ”

“   I'm going to ignore you. But you must be used to that by now. ”

“   You shadow-sneaking ratbag, come here! ”

“   Took me a while to perfect this little trick. ”

“   They smell fear, you know. ”

“   Such happy times for me. Oh, the power I wielded. ”

“   Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. ”

“   They... They don't believe in me anymore. ”

“   There will be nothing but fear and darkness. ”

“   It's your turn not to be believed in. ”

“   You should have seen them. They put up such a fight. ”

“   When someone needs to remember what's important, we help them. ”

“   Are you saying I had a life before that, with a home and a family? ”

“   You really don't remember? ”

“   All these years, the answers were right here. ”

“   No such thing as too late! ”

“   Look, I'd tell you to stay out of my way, but, really, what's the point? ”

“   Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy there, champ. ”

“   Why did I ever stop doing this? ”

“   All right, nobody panic. ”

“   You know, for a neutral party, you spend an awful lot of time with those weirdos. ”

“   This isn’t your fight. ”

“   Remind me not to get on your bad side. ”

“   Don't fight the fear! ”

“   How did you do that? ”

“   Finally! Someone who knows how to have a little fun! ”

“   I just... I wish I could've done something. ”

“   I don't know who you were in your past life. ”

“   How can I know who I am until I find out who I was? ”

“   He's tipped the balance. ”

“   Crikey! Somebody do something. ”

“   When was the last time you guys actually hung out with kids? ”

“   How much time do we have? ”

“   All right, troops, it's time to push back. ”

“   Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you. ”

“   It's the one thing I always know. People's greatest fears. ”

“   Why were you chosen to be like this? ”

“   They'll never accept you. Not really. ”

“   You make a mess wherever you go. ”

“   You should be happy you still get dreams like that and not nightmares. ”

“   They never really believed in you. ”

“   All those years in the shadows I thought no one else knows what this feels like. But now I see I was wrong. ”

“   We don’t have to be alone. ”

“   Look at what we can do. ”

“   They'll fear both of us. And that's not what I want. ”

“   You have a bad habit of interfering. ”

“   You can't have fun all the time. ”

“   It's okay. It's okay. Don't look down. Just look at me. ”

“   I promise, I promise. You're gonna be... You're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me. ”

“   You and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads. ”

“   He told me you were real. Just when I started to think that maybe you weren't. ”

“   That little trick doesn't work on me anymore. ”

“   All this fuss over one little boy. ”

“   There are other ways to snuff out a light. ”

“   If you want him, you're gonna have to go through me. ”

“   I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you all like this. ”

“   I'm just not afraid of you. ”

“   Mate, you are a sight for sore eyes. ”

“   You dare have fun in my presence ”

“   Leaving the party so soon? You didn't even say goodbye. ”

“   You can't get rid of me! Not forever. ”

“   There will always be fear. ”

“   It is time that you take the Oath. ”

[applbottmjeens]

WEST COAST YOUTH

tags: toxic and jealous phillip graves as usual, MW2!Era, Peak Gremlin Anna, This mf is sexist and kind of a douche, hates this girl but also wants 2 smooch her so bad just date a man tbh, Phillip Marshall Graves you're too old to be acting like this, Anna has 0 self preservation skills, This man does not treat her good

summary: The beginning of something addicting- Phillip doesn't want Anna talking to other men and deals with it like a man. (The worst way.)

Goddamn Californian girls.

West coast, liberal, chatty, young things. Usually hated their guts, but goddamn this one was just persistent.

Being annoying was her love language. And like a child or a nest of wasps, the more you reacted, the more she acted up. Somehow, against all odds, she made this into a charming trait.

She's a pretty girl in a job full of men. He hates how hyper aware of it he is now. Of how many other guys she spends her time with other than him.

He wasn't special was he? This was how she was with every guy..Right?

She calls Ghost, “Spooky” and punches his arm as thanks. She randomly sings club songs with Soap and asks him for piggyback rides. She pesters her Captain with questions over call like she pesters him. And for a girl who claims to hate this Sergeant Garrick, they sure do text a lot.

He wished she chose to stay in the Shadow Company. He could watch over her more then- keep a closer eye. Have the authority to tell these other goons to stay away from her.

But when Laswell called- she couldn't say no. She “owed her too much” she said.

They weren’t anything. Not officially. There was no labels, nothing telling them that they couldn’t fuck other people or anything. But dang it- if he didn't hate it when she gave another man those fuck me eyes. When they were together, they belonged to each other. What happened when they were apart for work was none of the others business. That was the rule.

She didn't seem to mind. Free spirited, California girl like her was just someone to occupy his time, right?

This wasn't love. He was too old for shit like that. He had his chance and blew it in a bitter, bitter divorce and his firstborn son being raised by some Governor chump. He didn't love her. And while he was certain she was pretty head over heels for him, she wasn't pushing for much.

He didn't think too much of it till he saw how much she and MacTavish got along. Messing up eachother's hair. Constantly talking to one another-

It's driving him nuts. Seeing how she laughs at his jokes as if the man she actually wants to be around isn't right there.

She walks into the room after talking to Soap, and smiles when she sees Phillip pouring himself some coffee.

"You two sure talk alot." He mentions.

"Same MOS kinda. We talk all the time." She answers, leaning on the counter by him, arms crossed.

Phillip can't take it. He bites the bullet and asks her directly. “Is there anything going on between you and MacTavish?”

Anna makes a face and snorts. “...Ew. No. Also if there was, it wouldn't be any of your business-”

“Annie.”

“Stop calling me that. I'm not a child.” She sneered. She never got around to that nickname. But he's not kidding around.

"Then stop actin' like one and listen t'me." He says firmly. He puts his coffee mug down and moves towards the smaller woman, forcing her to turn and face him.

“I don't. Want you. Flirting with other men. You understand?” Graves’ grip on her arms tightened. “...Just me.”

Anna doesn't speak for a moment. “You askin' me for a commitment?” She blinks in disbelief.

“I'm asking you not to make a fool outta me.”

She scoffs and shakes her head.“...I'm not gonna roll my stops for a guy who ain't even my man. Don't play with me, Phillip.”

She rolls her eyes like the goddamn brat she is. Does he really have to spell it out for her?

Phillip speaks low, his hands moving to her waist. “Well I am your man.”

“Wait-”

“We're together now.” He states firmly. Her usually mischievous eyes are wide and surprised. Gosh, that was cute. He'd caught her off guard.

“Wait-...Don't I get a say in this?” He cuts her off with a kiss. She melts into his arms, breathless when he finally pulls away, eyes blinking in dizzy disbelief.

“...Any more stupid questions?”

Her cheeks are still flushed. “...N-no?...I think?”

He loved shutting her up. And now he had her all to himself, and nobody could take that from him.

Well except maybe HR. But he had his way around that too.

He was keeping her. Consequences be damned...

[toastofthetrashfire]

The Sign Episode 7 Thoughts

Showing abs is apparently necessary for good art (taking notes)

Okay but are they talking about having him paint him, make love, or kill him and make him a part of the art (they keep showing the art tools like torture tools)

That love scene was really beautiful, love the way it makes the art very visceral. The way it's framed reminds me a bit of Hannibal and the way bodies there are framed as art.

Ah so we are intentionally blurring the lines here between love making, art, and potential murder--cause the scene of him washing off the paint is pulled straight from a crime thriller. I like the contrast between the red paint and the blue lighting.

Interesting bathroom, the shot is really pretty, but logistically how do you shower without getting everything wet. The mirror is really interesting though. Practically it's a good way to make sure he gets all the paint off. But it also highlights how alone he is here, with only his own reflection to keep him company.

Yai why are you trying to stop Tharn from saving someone?

These guys are so bad at working, meanwhile Yai is telling Tharn not to get distracted from the job they're already all not doing

Oh I like the way the actor plays Mr. Montree. A lot of actors would overplay the sinister aspect to make sure the audience really gets it, but instead of any tension in his voice or body language, he comes across quite genuine and warm in his responses. We can still pick up the tension if we observe the captain and read between the lines of what he's saying. Nice!

Tharn, darling, maybe don't tip the guy off! I'm glad Yai told him that was stupid

Ah hello again Nat's abs!

Interesting that most of the guests are in black, white, or beige, but Mr. Montree is in blue and Phaya's grandma is in red. Of course those are the colors used in the painting and earlier with Art. It makes sense that Mr. Montree would stand out, but I'm curious why Phaya's grandma in particular. Will she become more important? Is she related to Mr. Montree in some way?

I'd love to know more about the artists and art they used for this episode. There's some really gorgeous pieces

Oh no a broken statue I'm getting Shadow flashbacks

Wait why would they detain Art? It was clearly an accident

Dr. Chachacha stepping up to say Art is his patient, what is this Hannibal? Dr. Chalecter over here! It's got to be an influence right? Cause I was getting similar vibes in the opening scenes too

I wonder if hysteria as a term has the same connotations as it does in Western psychiatry. Like is it still a term that's used medically? Or is it clearly outdated? If it's the later, why doesn't that raise any eyebrows? Either way it fits with his sinister role in the story and the way he riles Phaya up to cause problems and make it seem like Phaya is dangerous or hysterical. Say Art is hysterical and off his meds and you can discredit him. How much of that is Dr. Chalecter using some sort of power on people is hard to say.

Huh, even after that back and forth, I'm not quite sure what the show's perspective is here on mental illness. They aren't necessarily pushing back on the idea that it can make you dangerous, even if there's some nuance added. Though Dr. Chalecter did get in a funny burn telling Phaya: you're not mentally ill, your personality just sucks.

Okay I get that Phaya is acting like an idiot because he's scared, but my patience is a little thin. It's just not a dynamic I enjoy. I'm kind of hoping it really is Dr. Chalecter's doing.

Oooof Dr. Chalecter is over here distinguishing "normal" people vs mentally ill people. Rich and ableist! Despite the copganda the show is at least giving us evil psychiatrists.

No don't bring the charismatic psychiatrist into your police investigation! It's like the captain hasn't even seen Hannibal!

Did Kao's body get put into the art and that's why they can't find him?

Okay I guess I'm glad it wasn't portrayed as him killing out of madness or mental illness, that's a relief.

Tharn's visions are getting super convenient and helpful now. I like the touch of focusing on the clock in the flashback

Imagine being the poor cab driver. You pick up a guy with a bleeding neck and instead of going to the hospital he asks you to drop him somewhere sketchy

Why would you sit in the car to get evidence? Wouldn't that disrupt things?

These two have no chill, why are they bickering in front of everyone's salad. Also not sure why we needed a montage of the meeting.

Kitty Kitty Kitty Kitty!!!

Oh Phaya's little meow to deflect, adorable!

Huh the grandma's comments about not understanding people's motivations and everyone losing their minds are troubling. Feels in line with what the episode seems to be bringing up around mental illness. Even with Tharn's response, I'm not really sure what the show is trying to say about the topic. Kind of similar to last week's take on justice.

Kitty makes the perfect transition shot!

Interesting how the final scenes between Phaya and Tharn here mirror Art and Kao but with very different endings. Both begin in spaces where Art and Phaya make and display their art. Tharn and Kao are invited into these intimate spaces. But the couple's follow opposite trajectories--one betraying that intimacy (Kao) and the other (Thar) deciding to take a leap of faith and trust in it.

Art and Kao make love in a scene that may have just been a fantasy, but, real or not, the scene has a dream-like aesthetic that is edging into nightmare. We then learn they fought and separated.

In contrast, Phaya and Tharn talk, resonate with each other emotionally and come together. They then make love. Like, Art and Kao's love scene, there's a fantastic quality, but this one stays out of nightmare territory.

The mirrors are particularly notable. We end with mirror's capturing Phaya and Tharn together, intimate. While we began with Art in his bathroom, the mirrors highlighting how alone he is.

A final thought: It has been 4 weeks since Sand has graced our screens, now we must wait at least a week more and that is a true crime!

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — dancing with danger .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — no malware detected

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed. reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.8k

according to aristotle, humans are social animals, that we thrive best in the company of others. while that may prove true to some, it wasn't to you. the only thing this phrase would describe you as perfectly was an animal. running on pure instinct and adrenaline. an untamed beast.

a wolf in sheep's clothing? no. a more accurate representation of you would be a black mamba. blending into the night, hiding in places the light doesn't shine, the shadows became your home. it's your job to but at the same time, you liked your isolation.

far away from nosy people, from people that talked too much, that took up too much space and didn't know when enough was enough. you hated that, you hated them. and your handler took advantage of that.

taken in by a mysterious man, he raised you learning how to fight, self defense, martial arts, to kill and maim with your bare hands. he also taught you how to fight with every weapon known to mankind, even something like a spoon. now, why would you as a child let yourself be taken in by such a person? because as much as you loved being alone, living with him where you had a roof over your head instead of sleeping in parking garages, food on the table three times a day instead of scavenging for scraps, a shower instead of stinking, the works.

growing up, you were detached from your emotions. you were extremely apathetic and unfeeling. he knew that and took advantage of it to do his work. now, being an assassin wasn't all that bad. most of the time, your assignments consisted of cleaning society of very bad people and you relished in doing it, after all your services weren't cheap. and some days, you were sent to chase after regular people with regular lives. normal people who's worst crimes was probably arguing with others. but as stated before, you were unfeeling. robotic even. you don't care about all that jazz.

until jake lockley. your next assignment. the target on his back? your handler never explained except for the fact that someone really high up wanted him gone to get back at his own handler? whatever that meant.

but see, the thing was, he knew how to fight back. and he never backed down from one either. and the longer you chased him, the more you seemed to be captivated by him. all those witty spanish comebacks, all the subtle Itouches when he dodged your blows and every single close call that sent you both toppling over each other… they all made your heart go crazy for some unknown reason.

for someone so isolated from the world, you sure craved his company. and that's what boggled you the most; you just can't seem to understand your attraction towards him, unable to distinguish it from the innate loathing you held for each and every one of your assignments.

maybe that should've been your warning but you were never the type to listen to anyone but your gut anyways, and your gut tells you that you either liked him or hated him and it continues to perplex you so. so on one fateful encounter after the other, you managed to pull him under you after a hard blow to the head.

you pointed the tip of your dagger to his throat, a snarl on your lips as you breathed heavily, agonizing bruises blooming underneath your layer of clothing. "i'll cut your throat! that'll shut you up!" you rasped, threat half empty even with your weapon ready to slit him bloody open.

with ragged breaths, jake looks up at you, nose bloody and his own lips curled into a small smirk. "you're beautiful…" he whispers and those two words was enough to send your heart ablaze and your tummy churning with thousands of butterflies. your cheeks heated at the simple compliment, breaking through your murderous intent, turning you, a cold-blooded assassin into a mess like a teenage girl that just got her crush to notice her.

in your mind, you think you'll never be able to finish this assignment. jake will forever play with you this cat and mouse game, a neverending chase that tiptoed the border of love and murder, bloodied fists and bloody hearts. both your claws ready to tear each other open to reach into the depths of your chests and swap hearts in your carnal desire to be with one another.

there is beauty in violence where love is the center of it all. one soul so alone in the world and the other trying to find its place away from the shadows of those before him. there is beauty in violence in the way you would continue to rush after each other, hoping to be the first to touch and feel the other underneath fingertips and desiring gazes. there is beauty in violence the way jake will always be ready to receive you no matter how bloody you two will end up afterwards.

[the-infinite-hole]

hi my ~realistic~ narry/reader broken marriage thoughts turned into a 3k word fanfic about trying to reconnect with him.

you're in the shower but you don't do anything xD

tentatively tagging @caltverkeys because i probably wouldn't have thought about it for so long if they hadn't expressed interest in my initial thoughts. :)

not that i expect ANYONE to actually read all 3k words of this silliness lol.

(*i wouldn't normally post whole fics to tumblr except this one probably wouldn't exist WITHOUT tumblr.)

sooo here ya go

...

...

...

When you hear the faucet squeak to life and smell his soap beginning to waft down the stairs, you smile because you know it means he's had a good day— or, at the very least, that he hasn't had a bad one, which is sometimes all you really need.

Sometimes.

Saying his name quietly to yourself (you know he can't hear you over the din of the water, but you feel like saying it anyway), you creep up the stairs, heading toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. The door is half-open, and through the noise you think you can detect him muttering something to himself.

His muttering doesn't bother you, though; it never has: Thinking out loud is something he's always done, and anyway, it's actually quite nice to hear his voice— especially when he's been flat-out ignoring you in favour of his own pursuits, which lately he's been doing quite a bit.

For days and days now, your Narrator (actually, he's your husband; however, he just as often insists upon being addressed by his own chosen title) has been holed up in his dark, smoky little office, working on his very own video game: His 'parable' as he likes to call it. He's been building it privately on his computer for as long as you've known him, adding dialogue and settings and characters and concepts at what most people would describe as his leisure.

At first, you were charmed by the strength of his creative drive— however, having been married to him for as many years as you have, you now know first-hand that there isn't actually anything 'leisurely' about the way your husband works on his game.

How long has it been, you think, since he last had a job— real job; a job that actually made him real-life money? How long has it been since the two of you last went out to dinner together...? Or entertained company, or took a trip—?

...You shake your head as you step into the bathroom, banishing both the thoughts and the hard, sticky bitterness clinging to them like old barnacles.

Not right now.

He's already standing under the water when you arrive, hidden safely behind the curtain: A mere silhouette, although over the years you've grown sadly accustomed to him being somewhat of a shadow to you. He spends so much time holed up with his game in that little office of his that sometimes you worry you're going to forget what he even looks like.

His glasses (at least those haven't changed) are resting on the edge of the sink; his pants are balled up on the floor with his socks. His shirt is hooked on the doorknob, its sleeves hanging just low enough to brush up against the worn linoleum tile peeling up from the edges of the floor. Even over the soap, you can smell the sweat on it; see the coffee stains, too. It feels like a long time since you've seen him undressed, and maybe even longer than that since you've seen him without his glasses.

It's embarrassing— you certainly wouldn't admit it out loud— but the god's honest truth is that you can hardly even recall what colour his eyes are anymore.

You bite down on your lip as your stomach ties itself in knots. You've been married to him for longer than you haven't been, but all of a sudden— right here and right now— you feel nervous: Like you're intruding, or crossing a boundary.

...Like you shouldn't even be here.

He's probably busy, you scold yourself. Busy trying not to get soap in his eyes; busy thinking about his game. Busy spending time in his head with Stanley.

'Stanley' isn't real, though, and neither is the game, no matter how much your Narrator seems to wish they were. You don't resent his inclination to retreat into himself so much as you wish you understood it; you knew he was prone to bouts of depression when you married him, and you would never begrudge him his feelings. But to witness him running headlong into a set of digital arms when you've been there for him in real-life all along...

Shh, quit it. Not right now.

No, you think, it isn't the right time to indulge your own misplaced jealously and pent-up bitterness any more than it's the right time to contemplate your husband's chronic lack of employment or unwillingness to join you for dinner. You didn't trail him in here to scold him; you can do that any time. No, you came in here to...

...to...

...wait.

Wait, what did you come in here for, anyway...?

He coughs from behind the shower curtain, maybe to let you know he's detected you; maybe just because he smokes too much. The sharpness of the scent of his soap and the headiness of the humidity in the air are what coax you back to reality; you're still frightened, but before you know it, you're peeling your own clothes off and discarding them to the floor right alongside his anyhow.

Could this be it, you ask yourself—? The thing you came for? Joining your husband (or your 'Narrator', or whoever the hell he thinks he is these days) for a shower is something you haven't done in years. What could possibly be possessing you to do it tonight?

What do you think you're going to gain from it— do you really think it's going to help?

Now less-than-sure of yourself, you almost give up right then: Put on a towel and scurry out of the bathroom; maybe to go and make some tea, or even just pretend to go to bed. But then— then— you think better of retreating, because what does it really matter whether or not it 'helps'? Running away is something he does; something he does, in fact, that you loathe. What kind of message would it send to him, if you went and did the very same thing...?

Whatever precipitated that well-timed cough of his, he already knows you're here: Quite simply, you can feel it. You don't need to ask.

Goosebumps pepper your skin as your throat seems to close in on itself; without meaning to, necessarily, you start taking steps: First one; then two, and three, and then finally (it feels like it takes a lot longer than it does), you're standing at the edge of the bathtub with your hand on the curtain, trying not to breathe too fast.

Perhaps in spite of yourself, you shoot a quick glance back in the direction of the mirror, just to make sure you're still smiling. If you're here because you love him, you reason, then shouldn't you greet him as though you're happy to see him?

Next, you pull back the curtain, letting out a hot puff of steam; after that, you lift a foot, stepping high over the lip of the tub and into the shower. He isn't facing you, but the source of the water instead; he also isn't washing his hair or his face, or anything else, for that matter. He isn't moving or talking, and he certainly isn't singing to himself the way he used to when you first got married. Really, all he seems to be doing is standing there: Stiffly, beneath the water, like a pillar of something soluble— something that wishes it would melt.

You place a hand on his shoulder from behind, and his back tenses beneath your touch. Your smile fades before he's even had a chance to see it; your breath catches, and already you're terrified you've made an awful mistake.

"I'm sorry," you start...

But then, he turns around.

Nearly choking on your own words, you stop as quickly as you started: Again, it's been practically forever since you last law his eyes.

They're green.

A beautiful, sparkling emerald green; as bright and brilliant as ever, almost as if in direct and deliberate defiance of all the things that so often seem to conspire to take him away from you. They're so lovely (and so lovely on him) that you're ashamed to have so flagrantly forgotten them. Then again, you think, maybe you were meant to forget them: Maybe he wanted you to.

"Don't be sorry," he says. "I'm almost finished."

Calm and cordial (entirely too cordial, actually) his spoken words come near-devoid of any particular intonation— betraying very little of the pain or confusion swirling about behind those pretty eyes of his. It's been like that for a long time; again, you sorely miss the sound of his voice, but he just doesn't seem to have it in him to use it the way he once did.

Not unless he's narrating for Stanley, anyway.

"I wasn't waiting for you to be finished," you tell him— trying as best you can to tamp down both your long-standing bitterness and your hope, lest either of them get the better of you.

His eyes dart to the side, as if he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't try to hide himself from you, and hasn't since you joined him; however, you know that's less because he's comfortable and more because he simply doesn't give a shit— about the way he looks; about the way you feel about him. The Narrator hardly seems to care about anything anymore.

Shut up. You're here because you love him anyway, remember?

"...You aren't?" he asks, voice creaking like an old door as he places a single hand on the slick tile wall beside him and keeps on refusing to look up at you.

"I'm not," you promise... tentatively reaching back out toward him, only to stop just short of actually touching his chest.

"Then why are you—"

"I just wanted to—"

"Just wanted to what?"

Clearly off to a less-than-stellar start, you bite your lip again. "...Let's not interrupt each other," you suggest, as gently as you can. Your hand is still hanging there between the two of you, resting in the air like a spectre. His body is shielding it from the water, and therefore the rest of you, too. You shiver— cold, now, in spite of the steam.

"...I'm sorry," he says, only barely audible over the insistent pattering of the water. Venturing to lift his head, he looks first at your hand; then, eventually, up at your face.

If nothing else, you suppose, his apology is at least sincere.

"You don't need to be sorry," you tell him... and (for now, anyway) it's the truth.

"...I wasn't lying when I said I was nearly finished," he mutters, shoulders shifting as though he's about to try and move past you. In desperation (desperation you hope to god he can't sense), you let that floating hand of yours finally make its landing: A gentle one, in the very centre of his chest, warm little rivulets of water flowing over and around it.

"Wait," you plead... pressing the tips of your fingers insistently into his skin.

"What for?" he asks back, having apparently grown uncomfortable enough with your presence that it's actually beginning to annoy him. You try not to let your heart sink; how many of your fights with him have started out precisely this way—?

"...Do you remember our first apartment?" you ask him, irreverent and hopeful and still not to be deterred. "The one with the leaky toilet and the irritable landlord?"

He sighs, pursing his lips. "...I do remember," he admits, if reluctantly. "He was always complaining about—"

"The water bill!" you blurt out— unable to resist finishing for him as an entirely unintentional grin flashes across your face.

Apparently unmoved, your Narrator shifts his weight from leg to leg. "I thought we were going to quit interrupting each other," he huffs... averting his gaze yet again, this time in favour of staring intently down at the water swirling around his own feet and down into the drain.

You hate admitting it, even to yourself, but you miss when he used to stare at you.

"...I'm sorry," you say, kicking yourself internally because you should have known better than to get excited.

"Anyway," he goes on tersely, "we haven't needed to share showers to save water for years— and so unless you're here to deliver some sort of unfavourable news with regard to our financial situation, I quite frankly don't see any reason for you to have joined me."

You almost wish you'd gone ahead and interrupted him again. Nonetheless, you curl your toes hard into the ceramic beneath your feet; having come this far, you aren't giving up on him.

Not yet.

Not tonight.

"If I told you that I just wanted to join you," you start, "then would that be a good enough reason?" Gazing down at your own hand as it rests on his chest, it dawns on you that you don't exactly have a whole lot of room to criticize his reluctance to make eye contact.

Looking up, you catch his gaze and hold it— maybe for as long as you've held it in years.

It isn't easy, but it's worth the effort... isn't it?

Already flush from the steam, you can't quite tell whether his cheeks have gone red, or whether he's merely grown too warm. "I— w-well, I suppose it would be," he spits out, "but... but, well, I... I..."

Mindful of his having chided you for it earlier, you refrain from cutting in, giving him a moment to try and finish. Only when it becomes evident that he isn't going to finish do you dare to prompt him.

"You what?" you ask— emphatically, yes, but also kindly; more curious, now, than impatient.

Your thumb begins to stroke gently at a damp tuft of hair on his chest. It's familiar, but in a way that feels distant, too: Like something you're remembering from a whole other life.

He focuses his gaze somewhere behind you, then: Past the shower curtain, in the direction of the bathroom door. He could very well be thinking about pushing right past you and bolting though it; in fact, it's more likely than not that he is— but if he's thinking about running, he must also be thinking about not running in equal measure, because (it'll seem almost miraculous, when you look back on it later), he doesn't so much as move a muscle.

He does cough again— maybe just clearing his throat.

You don't stop stroking that little wet tuft on his chest.

"I... well, I suppose I thought you didn't want to," he reveals, as earnestly as it feels like he's revealed anything to you in years.

For a moment, you feel newly ashamed... but then, of course, you feel frustrated: He thinks you're the one who didn't want to be with him—?!

You're aren't the one who spends every waking moment holed up in an office with their pixilated boyfriend.

...No, you remind yourself: Now isn't the time to bring up Stanley.

"Of course I want to!" you tell him back, and once more, it's the truth: Again, you didn't join him in the shower to berate him; you joined him because you love him— you always have, and even through everything, you've never stopped. You don't think you ever will. "We're still married, aren't we?" you ask, as your feet shift forward and a nervous, playful little lilt infiltrates your tone.

He blushes. There's no question about it this time, steam or no steam. He's always been prone to it, and (for better or worse) you've always loved making him turn red.

"I— I... w-well—"

As careful as ever, you close the remainder of the distance between the two of you— snaking a trembling arm around his waist in the process. His back seems to straighten out, but he doesn't try to pull away; you look into his eyes, and (maybe because he doesn't have anywhere else to look), he stares back into yours.

You don't say anything to him, but you do smile: Not bold enough to expect, perhaps... but certainly brave enough to hope.

He pauses, drawing a breath.

"...Y-yes," he finally manages. "Yes— yes, of course we're still married; it's just that— th-that—"

In lieu of interrupting him with words, you take yet another chance... this time by tilting your head (once again, in a way you haven't done in years), and shutting him up with a kiss.

It always used to work before.

You close your eyes, partly because you're scared; but also partly because of the fine spray misting out from behind him. The water pelting his back trickles over and around your hand; he breaths in, lungs expanding against your body in a way you never quite realized until just this moment how very much you missed.

...Maybe he misses it too, because the next thing you know, he's kissing you back.

He's really, actually kissing you back.

It's been so long since he last put his arms around you that you almost flinch when he does. He tastes, as always, like his favourite cigarettes; his lips are exactly as warm as you remember them. More grateful than ever to be surrounded by water, your eyes fill with tears; you know you shouldn't cry, but your body doesn't seem to care.

The pipes, old and lime-encrusted, whine from above you. Droplets tap-tap-tap against the plastic shower curtain; the drain gurgles from under your feet; and— somehow, suddenly— you're quite positive that you can hear the far-off droning of someone's car alarm, blaring faintly from outside.

Your Narrator himself, however, doesn't make a sound. He doesn't move, either... except to part his lips, and pull you even closer to him.

...Maybe, you think sadly to yourself, he really does need 'Stanley' as much as he seems to believe he does. Maybe he's depressed; maybe he's angry— maybe he's been touched by something he hasn't yet gathered the courage to reveal to you, and it's eating him up from the inside-out. You still don't know, any more than you know how to pull him out of his head and back into real life.

Right here, though— right here, in this very moment, steeping together like human tea in the warm, fragrant steam— your Narrator seems just as content to need you as he does to need his office, or his computer, or his best digital friend.

A kiss in the shower might not seem like a lot to some people, no... but to you it's something: A lot of something, in what often feels like a sad and lonesome sea of even more nothing.

It may not be able to singularly mend everything that's wrong with him (or with your marriage, or with you yourself), no: But tonight, it feels like enough.

Maybe— for now; from him— 'enough' really is all you need.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter I

Hi! Welcome to the first chapter of my fic (I'm very nervous posting this lol). This whole story is gonna be a bit long winded, so hopefully you're all in for the long term, hope you enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from England ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: Nothing really, just some rain :)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

If you haven't already please read the prologue!

You want background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

&lt; Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 >

PART 1: Chapter 1 -

Go on a road trip they said, it'll be fun they said.

Pluviophile (Definition): One who loves rain; one who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

Lake District, Cumbria, North-West England - Modern Day Earth, August 2022

English weather truly loves to give the middle finger sometimes, especially on a day out you planned for weeks in advance.

But this is England we’re talking about, so despite the already dwindling faith you put in the weatherman, you prepare for every possible element for when you step out the front door.

I was glad I had this in mind when packing for a week trip to the Lake District. Windermere is notorious for giving not one, but two middle fingers, having more rainy days than dry in the year.

 ‘And today was one of those lovely days,’ I thought, watching as the rolling grey skies grew darker from the curtains of rain hammering down into the soil. Periodically, the shuttle bus would sway slightly from the aggressive wind, creating a silent feeling of unease for the small group of passengers taking the ride to the hostel.

Sensing the symptoms of fatigue from a long trip, I leant my head on the vibrating window, trying my best to ignore the consistent head drilling from both the engine and rain.

Twisting slightly to get more comfortable, I squinted at the foggy glass in attempt to sight see between the streaks of rain racing across my view. At best the only clear thing was my reflection and the stone wall flying past, dangerously close to the bus as it twisted down the narrow road. Everything else merged together into large, blurred masses of green and grey.

Leaning down to pick up and rummage through my bag, I pulled out a small book on glaciers. Kay had practically thrown it at my head once I had proposed the idea travelling up to the lakes. We spent a week packing, with Kay almost bringing down the entire bookshelf trying to find her geography books, that now took up the entire bottom of her rucksack. Sightseeing with your friends in fun, but going with one that will see one (1) rock and spend an hour reciting its origins like Tolkien would looking at a tree is a lot more entertaining and educational.

My drooping eyes looked to the left to see that Kay was still in her shrimp position, headphones on and back hunched at an odd angle with her knees drawn up to prop up the iPad she was drawing on. I decided to leave her be and propped my own legs up, resting the book on my knees as I took out the bookmark and started reading from where I left off, tuning out the murmurs and whispers of the other holiday makers around us.

Around twenty minutes of quiet passed, until the driver up front announced our arrival would be soon, causing a stir as everyone began to gather their bags. Kay still had her headphones on, so I nudged her knee with the book in my hand, waiting as she slipped her headphones off and around her neck,

“Pack your stuff away,” I whispered, “I’ll make sure to get the booking up.”

Both of us began our respectable jobs, Kay making sure everything that had been brought out on the ride was back in its place, whilst I scrolled my phone until I brought up the booking reference.

Considering the rainy weather, we both slipped on our raincoats before slinging the bags over our shoulders, waiting for the bus to slow to a stop. Soon enough, with both hoods pulled up, we squeezed down the aisle along with everyone else and stepped out into the fierce winds and rain.

The sound of the continuous downpour and gravel crunching underfoot filled my ears as I scoured the surrounding area for the hostel. Said hostel was some ways down the winding lane in front of us, nestled within a wide valley surrounded by green, speckled hills smothered with trees, curving down to cradle the small building that stood politely at the bottom. Running from the top of the valley down past the hostel was a small river, threatening to burst at the banks from the onslaught of torrential downpour.

A freak gust of wind and the noise of the shuttle bus pulling away seemed to usher everyone forward, and we began the trudge through the churned up mud and soaking puddles. By the looks on everyone faces, we were all desperate to escape the miserable weather as swiftly as possible.

“Tomorrow better be the light clouds we were promised,” Kay groaned over the noise, face twisting in further annoyance as she looked down to find her shoes and trousers were already caked in mud, “cuz I don’t wanna be stuck in a dingy hostel waiting for all this to blow over.”

I hummed tiredly in reply, agreeing since despite how much I adored the rain, this type of weather wasn’t ideal for hiking up mountains in, no matter how much of an adventure it would be. But tomorrow could wait, since right now, nothing but a warm drink and comfy bed could satisfy us until tomorrow.

After slipping over almost twice, whilst quietly laughing at those who did, we crossed the threshold of the hostel, kicking off our mud clogged hiking boots immediately as to not tread dirt all over the place. We also made sure to give one of the men from the bus stink eye as he trampled past, doing quite the opposite, smearing whatever, wherever, much to the dismay of the poor lady at the desk. Thank god any carpet was yet to appear.

Approaching the desk, I gently placed my boots on the floor as I displayed the booking on my phone to the lady behind it. She reached under the desk and brought out a set of two keys, handing them over. We thanked her politely and wandered further into the building, leaving her with the now nervous man who had finally noticed what was on the bottom of his shoes.

Meandering upstairs and down a few corridors of the small hostel, the door sign eventually matched the key.

“Finally!” I exclaimed in relief, excitedly twisting the key in the lock until I felt a click.

Kay turned to me with a face of exasperation that I couldn’t tell was fake or not.

“13?” She questioned. “Weren’t there at least ten rooms available with a different number?”

“It’s my lucky number,” I stated nonchalantly, using my shoulder to budge the door open. I emptied one hand of luggage onto the floor to flip the light switch. “It’s quite funny watching the looks on people’s faces when I tell them.”

With an amused roll of her eyes, Kay followed in and dumped her own bags on the floor. With light now illuminating the room, we turned to inspect our surroundings.

The room was nothing special, just a plain and simple double bedroom; two single beds; a pair of small bedside drawers sat in between, small lamps on top; two wardrobes pushed against the walls at the foot of each bed; and a few portraits depicting the natural surroundings hung up on the walls.

Like I said, plain and simple.

Tucking my shoes into the corner, I crossed the room with Kay trailing behind and clambered over the creaking bed on the right to reach to window. Gazing out into the valley, I realised the rain had slowed to a stop, now able to make out the details of the thick forest outside. Picking up a key that had been left on the windowsill, I flicked off bits of rust that had begun to form on the metal before carefully slotting it into the keyhole and twisting. Pulling the handle up, I swung open the window, taking a deep inhale as I breathed in the fresh breeze that replaced the stagnant air inside.

After taking in our weeklong view, an hour or so was spent putting away everything we had brought. I had overpacked as usual, so Kay lent me half a drawer, in exchange for the window side. Shoes and wash bags were left by the door since the bathrooms were communal instead of personal.

The remainder of the day was us mostly chilling in our room, taking a couple visits downstairs to explore the rest of the building and eat in the small canteen, before heading to bed for the night.

The next few days trudged by contently as we explored the surrounding area, visiting the nearby towns and returning to our room with a concerning amount of bags brimming with gift shop items. I had gone a little crazy after spotting a shelf of glass animals, if the bag containing half a dozen at the foot of my bed said anything.

However, tomorrow’s plans were different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

&lt; Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 >

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Okay, this took many redrafts to write lol, so I really hoped you enjoyed reading it just as much as I did writing it!

Chapter 2 is out now!!

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg