#so using myself and words to myself as a sounding board is about my only option

[ftm-megamind]

a little late in my timezone but. happy javid thursday . i haven't written anything newsies in so long

david can't sleep tonight.

not exactly because he can't fall asleep, or has trouble doing so, but more because of the fact that he's waiting on something. and he hates when someone's late. his eyelids are getting heavier and heavier by the minute, and he's had a very stressful day, both at school and after it, and really, why is jack always late even though he's the one who picks the meeting time?

before david can dwell on it too long, he hears two knocks on his window, a pause between them. he sits up, slowly, so as not to make the bed boards creak and wake his siblings. he slips out of bed, checks just in case if les hasn't decided to follow him again, and then slowly approaches the window.

he's greeted by jack, though they don't exchange a single word, only nodding to one another. not the time for pleasantries. jack steps aside, offering david a hand, and helps him up. david closes the window, shoving a little wooden block inbetween it and the windowsill, so as not to lock himself out.

the two boys quickly make their way up to the rooftop, and david looks around the entire time, admiring how lively new york is, livelier than other cities at night, certainly.

when they settle on the rooftop, on one of david's old, rugged blankets, jack takes out a little glass bottle out of his pant pocket. he unscrews it and offers a swig to david, who contemplates taking the offer. after some thought, though, he decides that it's better not to. after all, what if his parents decide to check in on him later and smell alcohol on him? that would not be good. jack decides against it, too--drinking alone isn't any fun. he does light a cigarette, though.

after a while of sitting in silence, both looking at the stars, jack finally speaks.

"say, dave," he begins, taking a long drag of his cigarette, "if you could go to any place on earth, where would you go?"

david ponders for a moment. "home, i think," he mutters, smiling to himself. "old home, i mean. poland. warsaw."

jack hums, his gaze fixed on david.

"well, what was it like? i'm tryna start a conversation here."

david is quiet for another second. "i don't remember much. i was still little when we left. warsaw was big, and i thought that no city could really get any bigger, so when i came to new york, i was a little overwhelmed," he shrugs. "other than that... it felt nice to use polish outside of home. i really miss visiting my grandparents. they had a little cottage at a small town nearby. we would go at least once a month and go foraging. grandma taught me and sarah a lot."

jack listens, not daring to interrupt. he is in awe of how there's so much wonder and sadness simultaneously in david's eyes and voice.

"that's about it, i guess. it's not like it was perfect," david admits, omitting details so as not to ruin the mood. "that's why we left, after all. papa figured it was safer here."

jack doesn't pry. judging from david's facial expression, it's better not to. maybe he'll tell him one day.

"anyway," david carries on, looking to his side, at jack, relaxing once again. "what about you?"

jack snorts. "c'mon, you know what i'm gonna say. it's far too obvious."

david snickers too, and shoves jack gently with his shoulder. "yeah, obviously it's santa fe, but say some more. like, what exactly you would wanna do there."

"y'know, typical cowboy stuff... i guess i'd find myself a gang and we'd find a nice hideout for ourselves, we'd shoot and rob the bad guys, run from the law... oh, i'd have a trusty horsey as well, 'course," jack lists off the top of his head, as if he's gone over the scenario a thousand times. which he most likely has.

david smiles at jack's boyish descriptions, and then takes a wager. "kinda sounds like you have all that. except for shooting and a horse, but that's still not that far off."

jack huffs loudly, nodding, a solemn smile on his face. "yeah." truth be told, he's been aware of this for a while now. he's kind of grown out of santa fe since the strike has ended, and he doesn't really mind it. not that he doesn't love fantasizing about it still, it's just more like a go-to daydream whenever he has trouble falling asleep. it's funny how long it took him to understand he doesn't need to run away to feel like he has a home. "yeah, i know. partly thanks to you, dave," he admits, shoving david back, far too embarrassed to actually look at him. seldom does he say such cheesy things.

"d'aww," david mocks, in reality his heart skipping a beat and sudden warmth spreading over his chest. "c'mere, you sappy cowboy," he ushers, wrapping his arms around jack and bringing him closer, holding him too tight to consider the embrace a friendly hug. thankfully, jack hugs back, enjoying the warmth and security of the embrace. yeah, this probably beats having a horse of your own and shooting people.

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 5k+

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself.  As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.

Next

The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later. 

“The pirates are coming!”

You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you. 

Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past. 

“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.

You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her. 

“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after. 

“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”

“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”

Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.

While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know. 

The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction. 

“What are you so intently making over here, child?”

Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar. 

“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.

“Am I talking to myself?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”

This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder. 

“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”

Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you. 

“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”

All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers. 

“You should get some rest, Naan.”

The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.  

“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“

“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”

“Well,  if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”

The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it. 

The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down. 

Why must you always be so stubborn? 

The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm. 

“You never did say what you were making.”

You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.

“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”

“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”

“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled. 

Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation. 

In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place. 

I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors. 

You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers. 

“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”

You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see. 

“It’s just not right.” 

“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”

She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right. 

Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard. 

You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work. 

If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her. 

It was time a doctor paid a visit. 

————

The shipyard. 

Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own. 

In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily. 

So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself. 

You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear. 

The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy- 

Holy shit

Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason- 

Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty. 

That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman. 

Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?

Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again. 

In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice. 

While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions. 

Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair. 

“Doc!”

Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem. 

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm. 

Great. They were the grumpy types of people. 

“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat. 

You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners. 

“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”

“Impressive,” mumbled the woman. 

Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest. 

“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected. 

He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you. 

“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”

“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.” 

You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship. 

You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play. 

“Good luck with that.” 

You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with. 

“Thanks!”

“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”

You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.” 

Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry. 

“You do have it right?”

“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”

A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made. 

Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often. 

“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!” 

You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast. 

“I’m no-“

“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.” 

You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way- 

“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“

“No!”

“We are not a crew!”

The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads. 

Geez, what a tough crowd. 

“Ok, wait what?”

“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips. 

“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive. 

If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth. 

“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”

Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.” 

Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.” 

“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.” 

Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat. 

“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.” 

You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him. 

They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear. 

You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice. 

It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there. 

There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary. 

When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child. 

“I’ve never seen a house this big before.” 

Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front. 

“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.” 

Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest. 

“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”

“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”

“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.

By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did. 

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured. 

You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give. 

Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it. 

“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much. 

“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.

His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar. 

“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”

When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about. 

You were worried more about the people than the objects inside. 

“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”

Just tell them, Usopp. 

“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”

“This guy is full of shit.”

“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.” 

Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy? 

“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning. 

He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply. 

Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams. 

Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist. 

Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet. 

A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.” 

“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”

You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.

“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed. 

Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning. 

“You are definitely not welcome here.”

“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”

“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension. 

“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”

Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate. 

“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”

“You remembered.”

My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up. 

“I could never forget.” 

This feels awkward. 

They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers. 

It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received. 

So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.

“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”

Please, let me crawl into a hole and die. 

There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home. 

“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.” 

God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood. 

You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face. 

Nope. No such luck. 

“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed. 

Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”

You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another. 

“Hand it over. Please.”

“No-“

Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale. 

Something is wrong. 

The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame. 

Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care. 

No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it. 

Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest. 

“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”

“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”

“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”

With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly. 

“Is he talking about us?” 

Luffy sounded as confused as you felt. 

“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”

You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit. 

One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.

The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn. 

“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”

You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.

“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”

“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”

Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest. 

Something is wrong. 

You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough. 

Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie. 

Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone. 

The showers seemed like a great place to start.

_______________________

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

[moonstruckme]

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning. 

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after. 

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything. 

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards. 

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine. 

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in. 

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable. 

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment. 

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“You know how to cook?” 

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?” 

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board. 

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.” 

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Didn’t expect you to, love.” 

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?” 

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?” 

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.” 

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.” 

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.” 

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside. 

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.” 

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.” 

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.” 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.” 

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself. 

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food. 

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.” 

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing. 

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.” 

“Do you?” 

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans. 

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.” 

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month. 

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder. 

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask. 

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?” 

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.” 

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity. 

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?” 

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you. 

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.” 

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.” 

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing. 

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness. 

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.” 

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.” 

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.” 

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.” 

“Guess you’ll never know.” 

[kifu]

I finally, FINALLY got another amber in the nestbox out of my near six year-old lynx doe, and I was SO excited! I was going to pull a Code of Development for amber until my Mini Rex started their strike. It's not necessary now that I have it from a couple sources that the NMRRC fast tracked amber, but that's also not supposed to be public knowledge for some reason? Idc. But like, amber has been my fruit of labor for eight years now and I have one and a half in my barn. The half is just broken and five years old.

But that lynx doe massacred her litter today. Just ... bunny parts ... blood ... all over the cage. I killed her. She could have raised up this litter and retired in less than two months, living to a ripe old age. But she did what no rabbit has ever done to me before. Sure, I've seen chewed on newborns. But after three days? Never.

This doe was ... so nice. Gorgeous. Wideband. And she still managed to accumulate two legs (because judges don't know how lynx works, because a wide band lynx is 100% a DQ) because she was just that typey.

I don't regret killing her, but I'm not doing okay. I have one lynx left in the barn. Her daughter. Never produced a litter in two years of living. Dirty girl, too.

Wait, I lied. Vicious is a lynx, too, and comes from a vast history of my rabbits. I never showed her, but I mistake her for an opal a lot because of her color. Not a dark DQ-able under color (imo), but not bright white either. Vicious made a litter after two years of trying. I have a lilac otter out of her.

But like ... I had two Mini Rex litters make it to weaning age this year. Three hold backs that i need to narrow to two. I had ZERO Mini Rex litters last year. My Mini Rex are not okay - and LYNX Mini Rex is what got me started in showing.

I just killed one of my best rabbits - and I should kill a lot more. I'm down to eight Mini Rex brood does. Eight. Just eight. I try to focus on four varieties: amber, black, chocolate, and lynx. You can't work on that with eight brood does, especially when six of them won't even lift for the buck.

Well, Reputa is due for the beginning of October. We'll see how she does. Because I'm so attached to this breed ... and it hates me now. Amber is finally going to show on the tables next year and I'll never produce anything to show. Because Reputa's litter will be otters and selfs, black and chocolate at least. Pimp, her sire, doesn't carry dilute but Venli, her dam, did. I don't want otter ... I want amber again.

[canthelpit0]

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

[captain-joongz]

Space for two

Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader

Genre: smut, both angsty and fluffy, dark themes, positive ending, historical au (maybe like 18/early 19th century Joseon)

Summary: Trapped in a marriage arranged by our families, married to a cold, uncaring man and taking care of a farm in the middle of nowhere, I had sunken to the lowest lows. Aware of my husband's gambling habits and love for brothels that often kept him from home, I'd gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep in a cold, empty bed. But that changed one day, when an uninvited guest made himself quite at home and brought with him warm touches and scorching dreams. Gentleness coming from the one least expected may just be the push into the right direction.

Word count: 25.4k

Warnings: some dark themes, demon Taetae (he's a sweetie though), he's messing with the reader a little tho, he does have some slight yandere vibes, themes of depression and loneliness, infidelity, a shitty husband, some themes and mentions of domestic violence and verbal abuse (at one point the husband grabs her by the hair, throws stuff around the house), mentions of death and murder

NSFW warnings: slightly dubcon-ish (at first he visits her dreams), reader is inexperienced and embarrassed, slight innocence/corruption kink if you squint really hard, wet dreams, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, handjob, unprotected sex (it's joseon :// you be careful out there), some slight breeding kink, half clothed sex

A/N: super late but finally here!! i'm sorry for all the delays, but this just kept getting longer and longer and i had to juggle it between schoolwork, but i hope it is worth the wait! this is actually based on a korean folklore story of prince cheoyong, which i explain in the end notes so i don't spoil anything hehe

I was preparing the food in silence, the only sounds in the room the clanking of my knife on the cutting board and slight bubbling in the pot over the fire. It was winter and so I kept the doors leading to the yard closed, but I still heard the thuds of my husband chopping firewood, the dull thumps of the wood hitting the ground, the swish of his axe in the air.

I was already well used to this, to the silence of this place.

It was a quiet that could only come from unhappiness and spite, the kind that made you feel lonely and desolate, knowing the only other person around rather chose to not speak than engage with you. It was what I had come to know very well in here.

I had found myself married quite abruptly. It was a little over a year ago, when a messenger from the Ryu family of the neighbouring village arrived at our door. My father accepted him, but didn’t speak of what the meeting was about, which raised some suspicions between the women of the family. I was the second child of the family and the eldest of the daughters, and way past the age when women of my standing usually married. It felt like we all knew what it would come to.

My unmarried status was a bit of a controversial story around these parts.

I wouldn’t call our family exactly disgraced, but we weren’t at the full glory the Kangs used to stand at, back in the days of my great great great great-grandfather, who built the family into a considerable fortune, but whose grandson to the family’s great embarrassment failed the gwageo examinations several times and couldn’t secure an official position. The family had tried to bribe their way into the office, but the local official came from a family that had been feuding with ours for a few generations, over something that was no doubt petty and no longer relevant. He basked in the desperation of our family and wished for nothing more than to see them crash and burn, thus if we couldn’t secure a position through the examinations, he wouldn’t allow any bribery in order to destroy our clan.

The embarrassment continued as neither his son, nor his grandson were able to pass the qwageo and our family was stripped of our title. We had been living on the rapidly thinning fortune, trying to keep some sort of decorum, but feeling the full force of shame the other inhabitants from our area showed towards us. To them, we were pathetic. Just some thirty years ago we were strolling through these streets as if we owned them and now, disgraced and quickly running out of options, here we were – on the same level as them.

My father was able to break the family curse by starting a successful shop with trinkets, toys and other useful little devices, which allowed us to stay afloat money-wise, but cast us further into shame, considering our family had once been part of the yangban class and thus weren’t supposed to work. Even if disgraced, rules applied to us, and we were a great embarrassment to those who we used to call friends and allies.

The curse was further broken when father in his quite advanced age managed to pass the gwageo and got a spot in local office. He pushed my younger brothers into studies, as his pride never took this situation lightly. He was brought up to be an aristocrat, but here he was, working his days away like a commoner. In the end, his obsession was fruitful when two of my three brothers also passed their examinations and entered into civil duty, one striving for the office and one for the military service. The middle son, who struggled with his studies, was put in charge of the shop where he excelled.

As such, we were suddenly catapulted back into our previous standing, after several generations of disgrace, after struggling financially and fighting for survival every month, we were back to walking the streets with our chins held high, wrapped from head to toe in silk.

And that’s where the controversy about my marriage started.

As most young people, I had been promised and engaged to a young boy from a different neighbouring village. Due to the fact that we lost our title, I couldn’t strive for marriage withing the yangban class – after all, social standing was inherited after the mother, so I couldn’t be more than a concubine since I would curse my child with low social status. But that would be a hit to my father’s pride. Therefore he rather engaged me to a son of a lower middle class trader. To them, I was someone of a better status as they had never received a title, and my family would expand their funds.

But then several things happened all almost at once.

We regained our status, thus our marriage in my father’s eyes was no longer appropriate, even though finding someone from the yangban who would want me to marry their son would be nigh impossible. He demanded the breaking of the engagement, which was something the society looked down upon, especially since he had sealed the deal years ago. The two families started feuding, the trader now even more eager to secure me for them, and my father with his regained confidence insisting upon marriage to someone “of our class”. And during this time, the boy fell ill and promptly died.

Since we were engaged, I now was to be considered his widow even though we hadn’t had our wedding, but my father insisted that the engagement was broken off and I had no such obligation. The trader of course claimed the complete opposite and demanded we go through with everything as was arranged. The people in the area, even if they followed the drama between the two families closely and listened to gossip religiously, they themselves couldn’t tell who was telling the truth. Our engagement had been in place for years, but it was also widely known that my father has changed his mind and demanded for the wedding to be off.

In the eyes of some I was free to marry, but some viewed me as a young widow, a ghost bride, and thus I couldn’t find another husband unless I wanted to bring huge shame on the family and reap cosmic consequences. But most simply disliked my father for his underhanded tactics and newfound arrogance.

But this situation had made the question of my marriage impossible to solve. It was already unlikely that a match of my father’s expectations would be willing to take me as a first wife and honour me as such, since the yangbans looked down on us heavily, and now I had become tarnished goods in the eyes of potential suitors. My family still tried desperately to pawn me off to someone, but we had turned into a huge joke between the families in the area and I was doomed. Some even started to view me as a cursed woman, touched by black magic, that would bring death to any man who would want to marry me, and that was a final nail in the coffin of my marriage.

But my father wouldn’t give up so easily. He still had something that many desired enough to risk a curse on their family – money and power.

Thus, when the messenger had come and father refused to divulge any information about the nature of the meeting, the wives and daughters that had amassed in our house over the years all whispered about a potential engagement. I thought it was possible, but it was probably for one of my younger sisters. I was wrong.

The Ryu family used to be a powerful local aristocracy, but over the last few generations they had fallen considerably. Their disgrace wasn’t as openly talked about as ours, even though they were the centre of some mean-spirited jokes, however they had one powerful advantage. They didn’t lose their title, just most of their money. While their children still could live their lives telling everyone they were yangbans, they didn’t have the money to uphold the lifestyle. Only one of their sons had an office and it wasn’t enough to keep the whole extended family afloat. There were rumours of gambling, addiction and unwise spending, which were the most probable factors in their fall.

They knew no one self-respecting would marry their children, who were all pushed into working for their livelihood, and they couldn’t marry under their standing lest the children lose their status. That’s when they came up with the bright idea to get into talks with our family.

My father didn’t waste any time. For him, this was perfect – the right class, family with still some respect left intact, he had enough money, so he didn’t mind striking a business deal with the mostly impoverished family and I was used to working, as I had also grown up before our rise. It was just the perfect deal.

From the moment I had first heard about it, it was barely two months before I found myself fully engaged and a week away from a wedding to a man I’d never met before. He was the second son; he had a house on the foot of the mountain a little further away from the town that was the heart of this area. It would take some travelling, but still remained close enough to keep close ties.

Our wedding ceremony was brief and awkward, a lot of stilted conversation and pretend joy, while my mother and sisters all gathered around me in silent support. I saw their sad and worried eyes, the graveness of their usually more cheerful voices, the barely masked sympathy they looked at me with when I interacted with my stone-faced husband. Marriage was something I had since long made peace with, after all it is what every woman has to face at some point in her life, so I had just squeezed their hands and smiled at them gently, whispered words of assurance and prepared myself for the long journey to my new home.

I had soon found out he was a cold quiet man, rough and unhappy. Most of the time he wouldn’t address me with much more than grumbling complaints, cross when I tried to speak to him, when I asked him questions or requested something to be bought, turning away from me and rather spending time tending to his house and to his animals.

I was suddenly confined to a few rooms within an unwelcoming dark house, knitting or sewing or cooking, trying to lose myself in the mindless tasks of caring for a man and a household instead of dwelling on the growing despair in the pit of my stomach. Since then the situation between us has considerably worsened, but I found that the angrier he grew with me, the less he wanted to see me and the more he avoided me, which had begun to bring me relief. I was lonely and I did feel abandoned, but it was better than surviving in the same room as him.

I had gotten used to the air of gloom hanging over this dwelling.

My hand reached over for another carrot and found none, and I startled myself out of reminiscing. The vegetables were cut and the stew was boiling vigorously, so I busied myself with finishing. The sounds of chopping wood have ceased and I could no longer hear any traces of my husband’s presence.

Curious, I opened the door and peeked outside. The bitter coldness of the air immediately bit into my face and I shuddered, my body shocked by the sudden freezing temperatures when it was so warm from the kitchen fire. Looking over the yard, I didn’t see the hulking form of the man I’d come to live with, but I did see his fresh footprints in the snow leading towards the pig sty. Satisfied I walked back in and closed the door again. Rubbing my hands on my arms and cheeks I hurried back to the pot to warm up.

Soon the sun would go down and night would fall, so he was tending to the pigs for the last time tonight, making sure they had everything, which gave me a little more time to finish up dinner.

Some maybe half hour later the door finally opened roughly and he made his way in wordlessly. There were wet footprints on the floor left behind and a puddle was slowly gathering as melted snow dripped from his coat. I bit my tongue and said nothing, just pulled out the table and started setting it for dinner.

No words were traded and yet the atmosphere chilled considerably, the mood dropping low along with the sun on the horizon. We sat down, we ate in silence. Once he was done, he again got up, put a fresh coat on and was out of the door before I could even wish him a good night.

I used to ask where he was going, but there was no longer any need for that. He spent his evenings and nights in the same place every day, it was a habit that must have started a little before our betrothal. He had found himself some new friends from the town, friends that very happily spent most of their time playing cards, smoking opium, drinking and crawling from brothel to brothel.

Around the time of our wedding, he only joined them a few nights of the week and usually came back in the middle of the night. Back then I saw it as a problem and oftentimes tried to dissuade him from throwing away money this way. His family lost all they had because their young lord lived this exact lifestyle, it was foolish for him to fall down the same trap, but it was a frequent cause of arguments between us and the more I pushed for him to not go out and spend so much money, the more he wanted to. Gradually he went more often, came back later, until I had started waking up to an untouched, unslept in bed.

But I do have to admit that nowadays I saw it more as a relief that he never spent his nights home, even if that meant our already hard-to-come-by money was being thrown out the window like it was nothing. I’d come to prefer spending time alone.

I cleaned up after dinner and started preparing myself for bed. The ritual of changing clothes, brushing out my hair and smoothing out the bedding on the mats was helping me calm down every evening, but tonight I couldn’t find rest for some reason. While I sat on the floor and carefully brushed my hair, the house felt chillier than usual and I kept hearing soft creaks from the outside as if someone was walking around on the porch. It’s just the wind and the frost, it must be.

Unsettled I lost the battle with myself and went to look out into the yard. The moment I got near the door, suddenly a gust of chilling wind bust the door open and I screamed with shock, covering my naked arms to shield them from the frost. Immediately I jumped towards the door to close it back up, not before looking out into the yard and the forest beyond the walls of our house. There was a full moon hanging over us in the night sky and its light allowed me to see everything with startling ease, casting an eerie silver glow over the murmuring trees. I quickly shut the door and sat back down to help my heart calm down, as it was beating so hard I feared it might tear right out of my ribcage.

After I laid down, it took me a long moment to settle down enough for sleep to start licking at my consciousness. I kept startling myself with every crack and every hum of the wind outside and the fright from before still coursed through my veins, making me shiver and trying to persuade me there was something wicked hiding behind the darkness, lurking in every corner and waiting for an unguarded moment.

But somewhere along the way I did nod off and when I woke up in the morning, I was certain the strong arms that at some point found their way around my waist and pulled me into a warm wide chest were nothing more than a dream. An embarrassing dream that just spoke of my sombre solitude.

In the first months of our marriage, much to my chagrin, Minhwan practiced his marital rights almost nightly. Some nights he would return late from his outings with friends and immediately roll over on me and demand I submit. I did of course, it was expected of me and I was well aware of that. I had been taught that.

But over the course of several months, the frequency of such encounters lessened as I wasn’t getting pregnant, until we no longer even spoke to each other and his side of the bed became permanently unoccupied.

Of course, there was a simple, and really the only, reason for my introduction into this family – a child. A son. That was the end-goal of this union and the purpose for my existence in their eyes. After I had failed to fall pregnant despite months of effort, the man I married who already wasn’t very kind to me slowly turned into someone crueller, angrier. I could see the frustration taking over him until he completely lost himself in the rage at my uselessness.

He couldn’t divorce me, even though my inability to bear him an heir would be a legitimate reason. His family was already teetering on the edge of respectability, and this would make them the laughing stock of the town, since they definitely wouldn’t be able to find him another bride. That was because of the other issue. Money. They bought me with what last they had left and if divorced they would not only lose my father’s protection and financial help, but also wouldn’t be able to scrounge up enough money to buy another woman, if they even found one that was willing.

Minhwan knew that, knew that he couldn’t get rid of me, and even though his status would allow him to take a second wife or even a concubine, he couldn’t afford them. What little he had he gambled away and spent on girls in the red district; and not much was left for actually running the household and keeping us alive. No self-respecting family would let their daughter enter a family like that and women who were after money and status wouldn’t find anything here. And if he had an illegitimate son from a kisaeng, he could hardly bring it here and claim him as an heir, his father would never let him disgrace the bloodline like that.

Thus in his eyes I was worse than useless. I was his doom, a wasted effort that only pushed him further down and he no doubt felt that the best thing I could do for him was to die, so he could remarry. That’s why I preferred when he didn’t return home for the nights. Living alongside such pure hatred was draining.

When I was sitting by the mirror in the morning, I had just heard him return home. I opened the door a crack and peeked outside, just catching his eye as he was changing into fresher clothes. He held the contact for a few beats of my wild heart and then looked away.

“Breakfast?” he asked gruffly, not even forming a full sentence, while still looking away from me. I followed his gaze and found it stuck to the door leading into kitchen. I sighed quietly, making sure he couldn’t hear me lest he gets angry with my insolence.

“I will prepare it in a second,” was my short answer. He wasn’t interested in hearing anything more, the less I said the better. Thus my morning routine had to be cut short. Walking past him, I was suddenly bombarded with the smell of smoke, stale alcohol and cheap perfume and powder. The stench was a bit too strong for my queasy morning stomach and I felt it roll a few times, threatening to spill even though it was empty. I subtly covered my nose and busied myself into the kitchen smelling pleasantly of food and spices. This room has become my refuge. I knew he wouldn’t overstep here, this was my domain and I felt at least a semblance of power in here.

As distracted as I was, I kept finding my tools in places where I didn’t leave them in. I would turn around and suddenly my spoon would be laying two paces further into the room then I remembered leaving it. I told myself I was just tired, I was feeling unnerved by my husband’s hulking presence on the doorstep of the room, watching me prepare porridge as if fearing I’d poison him if he’d look away for a moment, I was still flustered by my dreams and nervous from the scare the night before. Surely it was that.

That day I spent mostly inside, sitting by a dying fire trying to mend broken and torn clothes, worn thin by hard labour and years of wear, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unsettlement that has been plaguing me since yesterday’s evening.

By the time the night fell and Minhwan left again, I found myself quite anxious to be left alone in the cold house, still feeling like a presence was glued to my side, invisible and watching me, but every time I would look over my shoulder, I’d find an empty room. Before settling down to sleep, I walked out and checked the courtyard again, and just like the previous evening, it was illuminated by a silver light so brightly it was almost shocking.

I looked to the sky and was stunned by the giant full moon hanging over my head. The night was calm, much calmer then yesterday, no wind shaking the trees and the only sound was the distant cawing of a bird. The white snow reflected the night sky and blinded me, but not enough to not notice the stark contrast of pitch black footsteps disrupting the otherwise clean coat over the ground. I could see their path clearly, leaving the house and disappearing behind the gate, and they filled me with gentle sadness. With my mind off of the ghost of a feeling that’s been following me the whole day, I made my way back inside to sleep. But I wasn’t prepared for what the night had prepared for me.

As soon as I closed my eyes and started drifting off, I felt the mat and bedding shifting as another body laid down next to me. I had fully accepted it, not questioning the arms making their way around my waist and pulling me into a warm hug. It felt as a very clear dream, and I found myself fighting to open my eyes to see, but instead chose to sink into the comfortable atmosphere. There was a hum behind me, but the voice was so deep and pressed so close to me it almost felt like a purr. Non-consciously I answered with my own, drifting with the current. I fooled myself into this, so desperately needing to feel a nice touch that I didn’t even want to think about why somewhere deep down I felt alarmed and unsettled at the situation. I buried that away and let the hands run along my sides, basked in the quiet humming somewhere right behind my ear and the warmth it filled me with.

When I woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of a door slamming open and heavy steps and sighs. I was confused for a few moments, subconsciously searching for the comfort I had felt in my sleep, only to be hit with a wave of embarrassment and mortification. I had been dreaming again, imagining inappropriately a stranger’s presence in my bed, hoping for a touch and comfort of man’s hands.

I felt the blush spill over my face just as the door to the bedroom flew open and my husband found my gaze. I saw suspicion in his eyes, most probably not used to seeing me in such a flustered state and questioning what could stand behind it. His eyes shifted subtly over the room as if looking for a hidden lover and in my mind I chuckled. He dragged me away into the woods, and living in the middle of nowhere and not allowed to leave the house without him or an attendant I couldn’t afford, how could I have possibly found a lover? No one came here and I went nowhere, the only company I knew was the animals and a warm fire, a needle and a thread and worn books, I couldn’t take the same liberties he has been taking for a better part of our marriage.

When Minhwan made sure I was completely alone, just as he left me, he looked back to me and asked for breakfast. That broke the strange silence and I was thrown right back into the routine of my normal days.

Over the following few nights, the dream kept coming back to me, but every time the unknown man in my fantasy went a little further. More often than not I found myself waking up with a start, blushing red from head to toe at the daring hands that kept straying more and more south, embarrassed with myself but also not wanting them to stop before I had the chance to experience whatever my subconscious wanted to grant me.

At first, his hands would only lightly caress along my side, as if trying to console me and help me sleep peacefully, while he hummed along some kind of a lullaby behind me. Everything always felt pleasantly fuzzy and I’d come to think of him as my dream guardian. My days, in comparison, felt dull and sad, and I’d found some sort of peace in these dreams.

But soon, the direction started to change. The hands strayed lower onto my thighs, grabbing the flesh lightly and teasingly, or going over my stomach until they were right under where my breasts were. I could feel him pressed closer to me too, his front moulded around my back, shoulders caging me in, the sweet humming slowly turning into something more akin to satisfied purring, causing me to flush red and a rush of excitement to flow through my veins. He always laid behind me and his existence felt like half here half not, but the closer he pushed himself, the more solid his presence was, the warmer I felt in the embrace and the more flustered I woke up.

Clearly, I hadn’t been taking proper care of my body and it was screaming for some sort of attention, there was no other explanation for these embarrassing dreams. The shame I felt from such urges surfacing in this manner was overshadowed only by the pressing loneliness, and I kept telling myself that even if I am a married, proper woman, dreams are dreams, and indulging in them a little wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? So, I let myself slip into sweet sleep every night, anticipating where my mind would take me.

During the day the little slip ups would continue. I would misplace things, find them in completely different places then I’d left them before. Sometimes it felt as if I was losing my mind, that the combination of the strange dreams and my sudden scatteredness meant I was finally feeling the effects of the situation I’d find myself in. But I could swear sometimes I would catch a glimpse of shadow or hear a gust of wind that sounded suspiciously like a laugh when I couldn’t find something. It made me feel even more insane.

The moment I realised what was truly happening came a few days later. Even though I was a little unsettled, I’d grown accustomed to the dreams and I treated them as my little escape, no matter whether I should have been concerned or not. I felt comfort from them and they felt like a dirty secret of mine, something I shouldn’t have been doing but it felt so nice I couldn’t stop myself. My husband spent all his nights god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who, I could allow myself this little thing.

Usually, I would sleep through the night without a problem and in the morning I’d be woken up by Minhwan coming back home and barging into the bedroom to ask for a breakfast, but that night for some reason I was shaken out of my sleep somewhere in the dark hours of the early morning. There was some noise outside, something that sounded like a wolf howl, and it was so close I was almost afraid to check the yard in case there was a wild animal there, but I had to go see whether the rabbits and chickens we were keeping were peaceful, just to be sure.

I moved to get out of the bed, but found an arm around my waist pinning me to another body and keeping me in place. My first instinct was to panic, but quickly that was overridden by utter bottomless embarrassment. What if Minhwan has been returning home earlier than I thought and this whole time my mind only substituted some unknown man in the place of my husband as I was falling asleep? Had I been embarrassing myself in front of him the whole time, dreaming about such immoral things and imagining a stranger’s embrace? But he had never touched me like this, and even when we shared a bed at the beginning of our marriage, he never showed the habit of hugging something while sleeping. He always kept himself to his side and never touched me unless completely necessary, even during marital activities. I couldn’t imagine him slipping quietly into bed in the middle of the night and embracing me so tenderly.

Complicated emotions flooded me, not knowing what to make of this, but in a moment of weakness I fooled myself into thinking this could maybe be a beginning of a better marriage. That was shattered the moment I reached back to gently pat at his thigh to wake him up to go check on the animals. There was some shuffling, the arm tightened around my mid and suddenly I could feel him nosing at the crook of my neck, laying a single long wet kiss there. I froze and flushed, completely flustered and even more confused by the situation. Then he chuckled and ice cold flooded my veins. I felt myself freeze in place, terror keeping me so still I barely even breathed. That wasn’t my husband’s voice. It was deep and velvety, rich like the dark chocolate I’d once gotten the chance to try in the city, completely different from Minhwan’s quiet rough commands.

Fear was making it hard to think, but I knew he realised I was awake based on how stiff I’d gotten, I could hear him quietly breathing and waiting for my reaction. There was certain amusement to him, I didn’t know how I felt it, but somehow I just did, something about him gave off excited anticipation and I imagined a sly smirk stretching his lips as he laid there. Then suddenly as if everything caught up to me, I felt my body jumping into motion, tearing his arm away and flying out of the bed. I grabbed the first thing I could see, which were my shoes, and turned around to try my best in defending myself against this stranger that’s apparently been sneaking into my bed deep into the night.

But the moment my eyes fell on the bed, it was empty. No sign of anyone being there. Frightened out of my mind, I searched the room with my eyes, but it was mostly bare and there wasn’t a place that could hide a man. I knew he was bigger than me, I’d felt him behind me and I was sure he couldn’t have been hiding in the sorry state my bedroom was.

For a moment I just stood there and processed before my knees gave up on me and I slid down to the floor, shoes still tightly clutched in my hands, heart beating out of my chest. I wasn’t going insane. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. There was something not human in my bed.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night sitting on the bed leaning on the wall and watching the room. My eyes frantically jumped to any movement, even the tiniest flickers of shadows would make my hands twitch, fingers tightening around my slippers, ready to jump out and fight for my life. But nothing happened. The only sounds I could hear were coming from the wind tearing into the walls of the house and messing with the trees and branches outside, and at some point the room was so still I almost felt as if I fell through the cracks into a painting and was now stuck inside.

Thus I had hours to sit there and stew in my fear and humiliation. Whatever the being was, it must have had nefarious intentions, why else would he sneak in like that and make my dreams turn to such depravity? And here I was, fooling myself into thinking it was okay to feel such cravings and giving into them, anticipating them and with bated breath hoping maybe the next night the dream lover will finally cave and touch me in a way I’d barely ever felt in my life. Instead I almost gave myself over to a demon, let him have my body and feed off of my energy, damn my soul and prove that I truly was cursed.

I also had a lot of time to think of my next steps. But what could I really do? I could never tell Minhwan and ask for his help, he’d chase me out as an impure woman. Once I’d tell him the nature of the encounters,  he’d accuse me of adultery and use it as an opportunity to get rid of me. If I was returned to my father in such a manner, death would be more welcoming than facing his rage and humiliating the family. Telling him would do more harm than good.

I could buy myself talismans and hide them around the house, but there were many, each of them used for a different ailment. I’d have to visit the village shaman and pay her to exorcise me and our home. I’d have to explain to her the troubles I’ve been having so she could paint me appropriate protective talismans. It was obvious that the being must have been a demon of lust and once I admitted that, the delicious  gossip would no doubt spread and I would be as good as dead.

No, I couldn’t tell anyone what was happening. I had to chase him out myself, no matter what it took. Come morning, I was completely exhausted but determined to deal with the situation myself.

When Minhwan barged into the house, pale in complexion and with dark bags under his eyes, I was already preparing the breakfast on the small table, looking similarly dead on my feet. The man’s eyes flitted over me, but he didn’t seem to take notice od my state and only grunted, pleased at not having to wait for food or scream for me to leave the bed.

I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even notice when he left for the yard, didn’t even have time to process the usual air of coldness and disinterest he brought with him, as I was too preoccupied thinking of the unwelcome guest. The little tricks with misplacing things must have also been him. I felt rage lick at the edge of my mind, suddenly making itself known in such an intensity I surprised myself. I’d fully start to believe I was no longer capable of feeling such strong emotions, but here I was. Thinking of million ways to get back at someone who’s been making a fool of me for his own entertainment for the past weeks.

The next few days were suspiciously uneventful. No more visits, no more “dreams”, even all my tools stayed suspiciously still and didn’t suddenly appear at places they weren’t supposed to be, but I wasn’t a fool. I knew he wouldn’t give up so easily, not to mention I still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched or messed with.

And slowly he had begun giving me subtle hints he was still as present as ever. The books that were put in order, the robe that was waiting for me on by the partition one evening, water refilled in a cup I knew I’d finished. He suddenly switched to being helpful instead of messing with me, but I knew it was all just entertainment to him.

One of the bigger ones was some days later in the evening. I’d taken to walking around the veranda checking on the yard and the forest outside of the yard walls. As usual, there were footsteps in the snow, my husband left them there every night when he left, but that evening there was something different about them. I frowned, trying to discern what about them caught my attention. I leaned over the railing to inspect them closer with a sense of foreboding looming over my head like a silent monument. The moment I realised what it was I gasped and dread and anticipation filled me. The footsteps, they didn’t lead from the house. They led towards the main entrance.

This must be it, I thought to myself. This must be the night.

When I walked back inside, I lingered around each room a little, watching the surroundings like a hawk and expecting him to jump out at me from every corner and every shadow. But the house was still and silent, not even any sounds from outside creeping in. I slowly walked towards the bedroom and found it empty and in the same state as I’d left it. I made it through my little nightly ritual without a hitch, but anxious and expecting something to happen any moment. It didn’t. Lying down in bed, I continued sharply watching the room, but to no avail. Even though I could basically taste the anticipation in the still air of the room, and knew the demon was most definitely watching me back, he didn’t make any move. I fell asleep suddenly, without realising I was even teetering on the edge and when I woke up, I wasn’t sure whether the fingers I felt gently carding through my hair just as I succumbed to sleep were my imagination or not.

He didn’t return abruptly, instead he slowly built it up, as if testing how far I’d let this go. Sometimes he would hand me things when cooking or I would be looking for something only to find it gingerly sitting on the table a few hours later, as if suddenly becoming helpful would make me more accepting of whatever his end goal was and I would let him return like nothing happened.

The problem began when he started leaving flowers for me. The gentle quivering of my heart when I saw a beautiful little flower in bloom laying by my bedside was alarming to me, and I didn’t want such a confusing feeling to enter my life. But I couldn’t help myself.

Without thinking I picked it up and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweetly, almost too ripe, the scent permeating the air and everything around it, making me slightly dizzy. I couldn’t remember when was the last time I received a flower like this, maybe when my little brother was still a child and brought it for me from playing in the fields. Our father scolded him then, for running around with other boys instead of studying, but after that whenever either of us saw the little white blossom, we would giggle at each other, sharing smiles like tiny secrets.

I was startled by a tear sliding down my cheek at the memory, the sudden reminiscing of my family, of the one person I was truly close to before he joined the military and went to Hanyang. He was to be married soon too, already at that age when the promises turn to actions and I couldn’t wait for the spring to come so I could travel for his wedding. I’d met the girl before, she was a shy quiet daughter of a smaller aristocratic family who just recently got their title for their merits. I quite liked her, even if I didn’t get much time with her before leaving.

He was the one person in our family who had a chance of a happy marriage, I hoped he would. No matter what our father tried to create out of him, he was a sensitive boy, full of mischief and laughs. I so desperately wanted his life to turn out better than mine did. Or that his marriage wouldn’t end up like our eldest brother’s did. He had married first, when we still scrounged for money, I remembered going to his wedding as a young maiden and being swept away in the celebrations, wishing for my own wedding with red blushing cheeks as young girls did. His wife was a practical woman, strong and resolute, but kind. They never had much affections between them, but they had an understanding and their marriage functioned well. I believed my brother respected her as a husband should his wife, but I was wrong.

After our title was restored, our father started pushing my brother to divorce her so he could marry a lady from an aristocratic family, but he couldn’t do that. She had given him children and wasn’t causing him any troubles, so a divorce wouldn’t be allowed. So my brother did the next best thing. He married a woman of a high standing and made her his main wife, pushing the first wife into a secondary position in the family and robbing her children of their inheritance of the title. Since then she became quiet and withdrawn, no longer she was allowed to make any decisions and lived only to serve a man that didn’t even look her way anymore, couldn’t even explain to his firstborn son that he no longer would inherit his estate and left her to pick up the ashes and survive such disgrace.

It was terrifying when it happened. While she never showed much gentleness, she always smiled at the children and sometimes would sneak me sweets like I was one of her own, even when I was the second oldest child of the family. My heart bled for her, and I started to fear my own marriage, knowing I would never get any aristocrat’s respect due to our family history. At that time, I had no idea that what would happen to me would be even worse.

I was startled by a sudden touch on my cheek, a finger wiping away the few stray tears falling down while I sat on the ground and stared at the pretty flower. I gasped and tried to flinch away, but another arm snaked around my waist and I could feel his head leaning on my shoulder. He sat behind me once again, like always, holding me as if he didn’t want me to see him.

“Shhhhhh…,” came his deep honeyed voice, whispering in such a gentle way that I could feel a wave of goosebumps hitting me, “I didn’t know it would make you cry.” Against my better judgment, I could feel my body relaxing into his embrace and a few more tears slipping out. He rocked us from side to side, trying to console me, but it was like my dams broke and soon I was sobbing in his arms, pushing my face into his shoulder and clutching the single blossom in my shaky hands.

I couldn’t say when the last time I was held so tenderly by someone was, but it must have been when I was a child still, begging for my mother’s touch any time something happened. I was warm, wrapped into him, and soft. There was a hand in my hair, carding through the locks and caressing me like a lover would. I couldn’t stop the stream of tears and emotions and I felt ashamed and scared. I couldn’t trust him, and it hurt because no one’s ever treated me so softly, but I knew. Knew it might be just a way to get closer to me. So I decided to allow myself this just for a moment.

I let him hold me, listened to him hum some kind of a song I didn’t recognise, let him lull me into a half-asleep state until I was draped over him, boneless and numb. His hands never strayed like before and he seemed to be genuinely trying to console me. In my mind I scolded myself, believed myself pathetic for falling for such tricks and for being so desperate I would let a demon embrace me just to feel some warmth, but outwardly I didn’t let anything show. I was too drained for that.

When I quieted down and just limply hung off of his frame, he must have decided it was time to sleep. He grabbed me and carried me onto the bedding, making sure my head was pushed into his shoulder so I couldn’t look at his face. I found it strange, but had no energy to ask him anything, just letting him manoeuvre us around until we were lying just like we used to before I caught him, on our side with him behind me. Sleep came and claimed me suddenly and out of nowhere, but I found myself strangely comfortable.

When I awoke in the morning, the house was silent and the bed was empty, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Would I have confronted him and demanded answers? Or did I allow myself to be vulnerable around someone that wished for my downfall and now I found myself inappropriately attached? One thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t like thinking about it, and so I got up and went about my day as if nothing had happened. I did find myself wondering what happened to the flower, as it was nowhere to be found, wondering whether it even was real or if I hallucinated it. But after that night, a fresh blossom was waiting by my bedside every evening, leaving me full of complicated confusing emotions. No sight of my demon, though.

“Do you want that?” a gruff voice by my shoulder growled and I barely stopped myself from scowling. The hairpin I had been staring at was suddenly plucked from the table by the eager merchant who understood that question as my husband’s intention to buy it for me. The older man pushed it towards me and started reciting all the reasons why such a lady like me absolutely had to have such a decoration, hoping to pitch it to a loving husband doting on his wife. Unfortunately, his guess was completely wrong.

“How much is it?” I asked towards the merchant, who seemed confused by me talking to him while Minhwan stared daggers into my back. His eyes flitted between us, awkward silence taking over for a few seconds before he stuttered out the price, looking at no one in particular. I went to fish out the amount from my purse, but my hand was stopped by another much bigger and rougher one.

“You don’t need it,” Minhwan said resolutely, voice leaving no space for discussion, “Don’t waste money on useless things.” I gritted my teeth, minutely losing control of my expression as rage swept through me at his statement, but as soon as I saw my husband’s eyes narrow in warning, I schooled myself and pulled from the stall.

“Of course,” I answered with false demureness, shooting the merchant an apologetic smile before ducking my head down and following after Minhwan through the market like the picture of the perfect wife. We walked around for some time, from stall to stall, haggling for vegetables and tools, whatever was needed around the house. Minhwan didn’t like it when I spoke to the vendors, he had me trailing behind him with a veil on or my head demurely ducked down like an obedient wife, and I was to speak only when he asked me something. Thus I spent most of the time in the market saying only “yes, we need it” or “no, I think we still have enough”. I hated it, but there was nothing that could be done.

The ride back to the house was also incredibly tense. I could still feel my husband’s rage at my earlier behaviour and knew that the moment we walk back through the gates of our farm, he’ll have some things to say. So I sighed and waited for the endless journey to finally reach its final destination.

To my shock and unease, nothing came when we walked back into the house, supplies in hands and struggling to pull the baskets through the door. Silence was all that greeted me. Minhwan helped me pull things into the kitchen and then with one last burning hateful stare he walked across the house. I watched him rummage through a chest, pulling out his only other jungchimak he usually wore when outing with his friends. It was the better one, in deep indigo colour, that made him look like a young affluent yangban. I snickered behind my hand and pretended to sort through the different bags and baskets we brought back.

When Minhwan was done changing, he charged out of the door without even a second glance. I looked out of the kitchen door facing into the yard and watched him until the gate slammed shut behind him, then I returned to the task at hand with a sigh. He didn’t do this often, but sometimes when I would make him angry, he just left. Without a word. He likely wouldn’t return until late noon tomorrow morning.

I’d long since given up on trying to stop him when the sun was still high up in the sky, he would still leave, just significantly angrier, which would result in him throwing out more money, so it was better to not get in his way when he wanted to drink, smoke and fuck his frustration away god knows where with the other young men.

I busied myself cleaning around the house and caring for the animals, finishing the work he had left. I found myself gritting my teeth in anger and annoyance as I chopped the firewood, wildly swinging the axe around and taking it out on the logs. When the time to go to sleep came, I was drained, both emotionally and physically, too strung out and tensed to even enjoy my nighttime routine like I usually did.

When I turned to the bed, a single hairpin was lying on the bedding. A beautiful, red, lacquered hairpin with a carving of a flower and a single red gem in the centre. The one I’d been looking at while we were in the town and almost bought to spite Minhwan. A mix of emotions overtook me, the most prominent one being sudden anger. My heart stuttered under the weight of it, the frustration of the day and the past weeks bursting through me in one big eruption.

Our uninvited guest was keeping himself surprisingly scarce after that night I had cried, but kept bringing me flowers. I accepted them with complicated feelings, but I had convinced myself into believing that since they’re already here, since they already have been plucked, it would be cruel of me to not accept them. So, night after night I tucked them away so Minhwan could never find them. I didn’t even know where the demon was getting them, since we were in the middle of a tough winter, but after all, I should care for them all the more, right?

But the hairpin was a step too far. I did not need to be reminded of my shameful behaviour and of the fact that my husband felt it appropriate to blow all his money away but couldn’t spare a single silver to let me buy a hairpin, and definitely not in such a way.

“Okay, come out,” I spoke loudly into the empty room, “We need to talk. This can’t keep happening.” I looked around, but everything stayed silent and still. Then, a soft voice rang out.

“Close your eyes.”

I stood up and crossed my arms defensively, spinning around to try and catch a glimpse of the being.

“Why?” I asked gruffly, speaking to an empty bedroom like a lunatic, “Why do you not want me to see you?”

“I can’t let you see me until you truly want to,” the answer came, the voice just as melodic and soft as it was before, as it was always, and I involuntarily shuddered.

“I do want to see you, right now,” I replied, ticked off. He just wanted to have the upper hand and not face me head on, I was sure of that. There was silence again, seemingly even the wind outside the door quieting down to listen to us, the room unnaturally still.

“You want to scold me,” he answered petulantly after a moment, sounding more like a child. I could hear the pout on his lips, the childlike upset of doing something wrong and not understanding why. My resolve softened a little, but I pulled myself together, determined not to let the demon play me like that. I couldn’t keep letting him get away with everything.

“So you know,” I stated, the anger seeping back into my voice, “You cannot keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” I could hear genuine curiosity in his question, one that filled me with exasperation.

I gestured to the hairpin wildly. “This!” I exclaimed loudly, “The leaving of gifts, the creeping around, nothing of it. Leave while I’m still asking nicely.” Even as the words left my mouth, they felt like an empty threat. What could I possibly do against him? I’d let him go this far, what could I do to stop him now? But he completely ignored the second part and focused solely on the gifts.

“Do you not like them?” there was slight dejection present in his voice, like he didn’t understand why it was such a problem, “I thought you did. You never threw them out.” I cursed my soft heart. I should have never let him get away with bringing me flowers, I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that. I should have been resolute and told him to leave right then, not let him coddle me and embrace me when I felt sad.

I hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I found myself not wanting to upset him by saying no, falling victim to his sweet demeanour. Again. I groaned with frustration and hit my forehead with my palm.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” I started a little softer than before, “It’s just embarrassing.”

“Why?” I groaned again. Good lord, this was going to take a while.

“Because…” I stuttered for a moment, the vulnerability of words on my tongue shocking me, “It feels humiliating. My own husband wouldn’t buy it for me and it feels like an insult for a demon to do that.” There was a beat of silence, in which I almost managed to persuade myself that there was never anyone there and I had been talking to myself the whole time, but then he spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to humiliate you,” his voice was quiet, contemplative, “I wanted to make you happy.” That shocked me enough to have me stutter over a few breaths, wildly looking around the room with wide eyes. “W-why?” I managed to squeak out, flabbergasted at such admission.

“It felt like you needed it,” came his simple reply, as if talking about the weather. That statement drained the whole fight out of me, leaving me standing there unsure and confused, filled with shame and wonder at the simplicity of it all.

“What?” I whispered, not really looking for an answer, just voicing out my inner turmoil.

“It felt like you needed it,” he replied a little louder, “You were always so sad. I didn’t like it. You shouldn’t be so sad.” It was such a simple statement and yet it pulled down the walls of my heart and made it flutter. I chided myself for being so easy to fool with a few sweet words, but I couldn’t stop the lightness taking over my heart, the relief bleeding into my every pore.

Someone saw my suffering, I thought to myself. Someone noticed my pain.

“What are you?” I whispered the question into the empty house, but no man stepped out into the light, no shadow moved. He was silent for a moment and then said: “Close your eyes.” And this time I did.

The moment my lids fluttered closed, I could hear slight shuffling of clothing behind me and light footsteps. On instinct I went to turn around, but a hand suddenly tightly covered my eyes, startling me slightly. I jumped a little, pushing myself back straight into his chest, which embarrassingly enough was a position I’d gotten used to over the past weeks. Then a silken ribbon touched my cheek and the hand moved quickly to tie it over my eyes.

“So you don’t try to cut this meeting short,” he explained lightly, voice full of amusement.

“But I do want to see you, is it not enough that I no longer wish to scold you?” I asked, confused by the strange rules.

“You need to desire to see me, truly, with your soul,” he said lowly, voice deepening into the honeyed register I was used to hearing from him and I shuddered lightly, feeling the words trickle down my skin and bite into my very being.

“S-so I can only see you when I want t-to-“ I couldn’t bring myself to finish that thought, the sinful image burning into my brain making me stutter and blush so fiercely I felt as if I burst into flames. I ducked my head, but his chuckle followed me, melting over me. There was no longer any amusement in his voice, now there was something darker and heavier, threatening to consume me from the inside out.

“Smart girl,” he whispered and I couldn’t help the wave of goosebumps that hit my skin when I felt his breath on my ear and neck. The sudden turn from his earlier more innocent voice and words left me confused and flabbergasted, blushing at his newfound confidence. I felt him lean closer into me, nose almost touching the crook of my neck, only to whisper: “Time to sleep.”

Before I could react, he swooped me into his arms and I yelped in surprise, before hiding my face in my hands in embarrassment. He carried me to the bed and very gently laid me there, his hands smoothing down my nightgown and pulling the blanket over us. My face burned, but I stayed silent and let him happily chirp behind me as he pulled me closer to his chest and made himself comfortable.

It felt like years before I fell asleep. I just laid there, feeling his chest move and his breathing deepen until I was sure he was sleeping, but even then I didn’t reach back to untie the ribbon. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust his words. That’s how I finally got pulled under, with my heart trembling with careful hope.

Come morning, something new happened. When I woke up, his strong arms were still wrapped around me and as soon as I started wiggling in his grip, he woke up with a content groan and a big stretch, like a cat. I blushed again, which seemed to become more of a permanent thing in his presence. I went to call out to him to scold him, when I realised something. I didn’t know his name. I haven’t asked him for his name all this time.

“Good morning,” came his morning raspy voice, then he burrowed his face somewhere deeper into the bedding and my hair. The ribbon slipped during the night and with my movement it unravelled onto the pillow, making me freeze slightly. I reached for it, playing with it between my fingers a little, before I spoke to him too.

Good morning...” I trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to ask him his name, “d-demon?” I flushed in embarrassment. Truly perfect, why not just call him a pervert if I was going to be like that? Behind me, the man chuckled and wriggled a little, presumably to make himself more comfortable. I couldn’t believe I let myself lie with a man like that, but it was better to just not think about it.

“Taehyung would be a bit better, but I’ll take it,” he replied nonchalantly, but then suddenly stiffened. Before I could truly register his alarm, the entrance door slammed open and heavy footsteps made their way into the house. I panicked and flew out of the bed, but when I turned to warn Taehyung, I was met with an empty bed. The other half was even made as if nobody slept there.

Seconds later, the doors to the bedroom slid open and my disgruntled husband peeked in. His hair was a mess, his face taunt and white, bloodshot eyes adorned with dark circles underneath. He looked like death itself, the exhaustion seeping out of him in waves, but he still managed to scowl when he laid eyes on me still in my nightgown. I wondered what time it was, but concentrated on schooling my expression and not showing my flustered state, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. He regarded me with slight suspicion in his eyes, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.

“Make me a breakfast,” was all he said and then he disappeared into the house. I glanced at my little vanity sitting in a corner of the room and noticed the hairpin sitting gingerly right in the middle of it. I swiped it away quickly putting it with the flowers, and started getting ready for the day. But the thoughts of Taehyung and his words and behaviour wouldn’t leave me for the rest of the day, plaguing me when I was making breakfast, when I was cleaning up the melted snow Minhwan carried into the house on his shoes and clothes, and embarrassingly enough even when I went to wash up that evening, wondering whether he could see me now too.

The peak of the winter came and went, but the layer of snow stayed thick, blanketed over the world and painting it pure white. I had found myself much fonder of the quietness it brought, how it swallowed all sounds and created a bubble of calm over everything, especially when my husband was gone from the house, which has become more and more frequent. Lately he left earlier and came back later, turning more and more pale with every morning. He didn’t speak to me about what he did, he barely ever spoke at all, but the tension in his shoulders and the troubled angry expression that has made itself home on his face told me that he must have gotten himself into some big trouble. I found myself just as anxious, waiting for him to tell me we would be losing it all because he made a bet or let himself be swindled.

Taehyung, during that time, worked hard on trying to distract me, bringing me little gifts and messing about the house trying to help me. Anytime I would come across clothes that have been rearranged or things that have been cleaned up, but put into the wrong places, I would sigh and jokingly glare around the room, but I couldn’t stop the fluttering of my heart and the fondness that spread through me at hearing his disembodied giggles.

During these evenings he took to covering my mirror, sitting behind me and brushing my hair for me. We would spend this time in comfortable silence, resting against each other and enjoying the simple companionship. It was such an intimate act, like we were lovers taking care of each other, like husband and wife who love each other, I would find myself flustered and blushing, feeling like it was my wedding night all over again. It was such a strong contrast to how tensed and hostile the silence was when my husband was around, that I often shamefully dreamed and pretended that Taehyung was my spouse, that this was a part of our life and our routine. He would caress my hair, my sides, press soft kisses to my shoulders, play with my hands and my fingers, and when we retired for the night, he hugged me tightly, pressing himself into me and making me feel safe and secure.

The longer this went on, the more torn with fervent longing I was, wishing this was my life and not just pity that a passing demon took on me. I was choked up with emotions, the words “stay”, “show yourself to me”, “love me” always on the tip of my tongue, fighting to spill, chest heavy and full like I was about to burst. It hurt. I hurt. I wanted a life I couldn’t have; I wanted a man that would take my soul and leave once he’d gotten what he came for, and I hated myself for it and I hated my life.

Taehyung felt this in me, felt this shift from happiness back into tortured silence, I could feel it in his touch, in how gently his hands and fingers regarded me, how reverent his lips were on the skin of my shoulders and neck, I felt it in his voice whispering praise to me. The desperation to make it all better, the frantic beating of his heart against my back because he feared he did something to upset me. No matter how much I wanted to ease him, the words would just not leave my mouth.

And my body, it betrayed me. It lit up with every touch, heat pumping through my veins with every brush of his lips, I could feel it swirling in my lower belly and oftentimes found myself hoping for his daring hands to explore as they had been doing back then before I caught him. But Taehyung stubbornly never strayed from the safe spots, never returned to his previous antics.

One night when he didn’t show up, I had a lot of time to think about where this was going and how I was dangerously teetering on the edge of improperness. When I sat alone by the bed and worried for him, called out to him and then promptly spiralled into believing he had grown tired of me, the feelings of pain and despair it filled me with shocked me. I missed him. I missed his touch, his presence, his voice. I didn’t want him to leave me. I’d grown attached to him, to a shadow that spoke to me and treated me with gentleness and kindness.

I wanted to see him. I looked at the ribbon lying on my vanity, the one he used every night to cover my eyes so I couldn’t swindle him and peek when he wasn’t paying attention. I wanted it gone.

I wanted. I longed. I needed.

Falling asleep that night was a challenge, I couldn’t find a comfortable position when I suddenly laid alone once again, too used to a warm comforting body behind me. And when tiredness finally overcame me, he visited me in my dreams, his bold hands exploring places that haven’t been tenderly touched before; drawing out sighs out of me, body trembling with unknown pleasure as his fingers dipped between my legs and leisurely moved in little circles over the bundle of nerves. My dream self was moaning and writhing in his arms, begging for him to never stop as the pleasure mounted until it burst out in a bolt of pure ecstasy. I jolted awake, breathing heavily and still shaking from the intense sensations. Startled I realised there was wetness coating my intimate parts and the top of my thighs, the sticky feeling making me blush in embarrassment. My whole body seemed to be tingling from this experience and I couldn’t calm myself down.

“Taehyung?” I called out carefully, checking that he wasn’t around to witness this. When no answer came and the man himself didn’t come out and shown himself, I quickly ran to the vanity to grab the first cloth I found and cleaned myself. My shaky hands couldn’t hold onto anything properly and I couldn’t get my breathing back under control, the experience leaving me full of confusing feelings, longing filled with arousal mixing with shame until I my head was spinning and my chest hurt. After that, I didn’t fall asleep again, instead I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my own heart.

The only thing that saved me from getting suspicious stares from my husband was that he himself barely looked at me. But it felt different from his usual coldness, he looked haunted and worried, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even realise anyone else was present. It made me anxious. Whatever he’d gotten himself into, it seemed bad and if it came to it, he’d drag me down with him. For the first time in so long I found myself wishing he’d just talk to me, tell me what was happening so I could stop drowning myself in worry. But I knew that if I had come to him and asked him, he would get angry. So I waited for my life to end with bated breath.

Taehyung returned after two days and acted as if he was never gone, as if he didn’t suddenly disappear without a word and left me spinning, thinking he’d never return. When I heard his voice ring out it the empty house for the first time in so long, I couldn’t stop the tears of relief and he spent the whole evening and night holding me and consoling me, whispering into my ear how he’d never leave again.

More than ever I realised the burning desire coursing through my veins whenever he touched me. I wanted him, like wife should want a husband, and it was getting harder to ignore the way my body responded to him. I wasn’t sure if Taehyung was aware of my plight, if he registered how I seemed to stiffen anytime he pushed me closer to himself, how I held my breath when his arms snaked around my waist, how I shuddered when his hands slipped through my hair when he tied the ribbon over my eyes. I didn’t know if he noticed, but if he did, he didn’t say or do anything. Sometimes he would get closer to me, nose at my neck or play with my ear and then he would suddenly stop, as if he remembered himself, and pull away. And I wanted to scream at him. To not go. To do more.

And the more the situation went south in my marriage, the more I realised that my heart has long since been stolen by a being I haven’t even seen, but whose actions spoke louder than thousand words.

And so I decided to take the situation into my own hands. Or, well, to put it into Taehyung’s hands.

Some nights I would dream about him, even when he laid behind me I just wouldn’t have enough. And in those dreams, he would do the things I desired from him. It felt like my dirty little secret, enjoying him in such way in the privacy of my own mind, but knowing he was there. That he could be witnessing me be improper, could be witnessing my needs resurfacing in this manner. He never showed it, but sometimes I wondered if he knew, if he was waiting to make a move. And it excited me even more. The tension kept thickening, and I boiled, I boiled until one day I just… burst.

I had woken up in the middle of the night, woken up by my own dream as usual, hot and breathless, but just short of release, pent up and frustrated and needy. Taehyung behind me stirred, but his breathing stayed deep and stable, arms minutely tightening before he relaxed again. I felt my wetness seeping down my thighs, squeezing them together on instinct to chase the pulsing and throbbing there, choking out a little whimper and squirming in my place.

That seemed to shake Taehyung out of his sleep, I could hear the shuffling of his clothes, his hand flexing on my belly. He raised his head and murmured something, but I couldn’t hear through the rushing of blood in my ears. I was so aroused my head was almost spinning, my mind zeroing only on getting back to the pleasure I had been feeling. I squirmed in his arms again and whined.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” came his quiet raspy voice by my ear and I could feel goosebumps breaking out over my arms. Without saying anything I reached for one of his hands and pulled it lower, until it laid over my thigh. There was silence behind me and neither of us moved for a moment.

“What?” he whispered again, confusion lacing his voice as he started caressing my thigh, thinking I just needed comfort, “Did you have a nightmare?” I shook my head, frustrated at myself for not being able to get the words out of my mouth, so instead I grabbed his hand again and this time I gently laid it over the very top of my thighs, the tips of his fingers just grazing my intimate area. Taehyung froze for a moment, and I held my breath, fearing his reaction.

But then he released a long breath and his hand moved, grabbing onto my nightgown and slowly pulling it up over my legs. “Are you being naughty?” he asked me playfully and I trembled with anticipation, the searing heat seemingly reaching a crescendo with the promise of his touch. The moment I felt him gently caressing up the naked skin of my thigh, I whimpered again and immediately lifted my leg to grant him access to where I wanted him the most.

Behind me, there was a chuckle, so deep and rumbly I felt it in my bones, satisfied and overjoyed with my eagerness. Taehyung nosed up my shoulder, until I could feel him laying searing wet kisses into the crook of my neck. His hand suddenly shot up back to my knee, grabbing it so he could hook it over his legs and keep me spread. I blushed, but another gush of wetness seeped onto the skin of my thighs at the prospect this finally happening.

“Want to have your pretty little cunt played with, hmm?” Taehyung whispered into my hair, the smirk evident in the smugness of his voice. This was his element, and I ducked my head into my arms, embarrassed by the words and the actions, embarrassed by my body screaming for him. He didn’t seem to need an answer, pleased with my shyness and with how my body responded for me, arching into his touch and begging for more. So he indulged, both himself and me.

His fingers descended between my legs suddenly, shocking a moan out of me as they glided through the wet folds until they settled over the little bundle of nerves. He touched me teasingly, circling it lightly, tapping and pressing on it and then sliding his fingers down to play with my entrance, as if testing how much I would be able to take.

I trembled whole, overflowing with relief, pleasure and burning need for more, spilling out of me on sighs and whimpers. I lost the control of my body as it swayed and arched, pushing into his elusive playful fingers. When my whines took on a more desperate tone, Taehyung finally seemed to be satisfied enough to stop teasing. He started playing me masterfully, fingers drawing tight quick circles on my clit, making me choke on my spit, brain not comprehending the sudden onslaught of sensations.

I found myself hurling towards that edge of ecstasy quicker than I’ve experienced before, my whole body singing under his touch, thrumming with the fulfilment of all the desires that had been piling up over the past weeks.

“Let go whenever you need to, don’t be afraid,” Taehyung whispered to me, voice low and aroused, and I arched with a silent scream as the release overtook me, bursting through my body in a single white flash. Taehyung carried me through it, fingers slowing down but never stopping, little quiet groans leaving him at seeing me blissed out. When the pleasure ebbed away gradually, I pushed his hand away with a quiet whine, feeling too much all at once.

He led me down from the high gently, hands running over my body, over my sides, his voice murmuring loving words into my ear, telling me how lovely I was, how well I did for him. I soaked it all up, preened under his care and attention and loved every moment of it, the fear and insecurity about his intentions taking the backseat for a few calming moments. My body thrummed with the after-shocks of my climax, and I pleasantly floated on the feelings of relief and release.

I was still catching up to my brain, when the words “I want to see you” tumbled out of my mouth. Taehyung’s hand stopped for a moment and then grabbed onto my arm gently. He hummed, non-committally, fingers suddenly teasing again as he lightly dragged them on my arm up and down.

“Do you really?” he whispered sensually, almost purring, and I gasped at the sensation. Before I could reply, he was suddenly gone. I heard him moving around in the room, the sound of his steps, his stable breathing and the light clanking of items as he moved them. I had no idea what he was doing, but when he was satisfied, he returned to me. Taehyung leaned down to me and grasped my arm, pulling me up to stand.

“Get on your feet, darling,” he told me sweetly, the sudden nickname making me blush as if we weren’t just wrapped in each other in such sinful ways. I stood, knees still a little shaky, but managed to hold my weight. I was a little achy, but it was a pleasant and boneless feeling, as if everything had been drained away and all that was left were soft sweet clouds.

Taehyung’s hands left me, and I could hear him stepping away, his heels hitting the wooden floor heavily. I held my breath in anticipation, my hands trembling, my body still confused from the screaming pleasure it was put through just moments ago.

Then, he spoke.

“You can pull the ribbon down.” His voice was smooth, kind and happy. My arms moved as if they had a mind of their own, lifting up to my head to grasp at the ends of the ribbon to pull. When it fell away, at first I was left blinded by the light for a moment. I blinked; eyes hurt from getting flashed with white after so long in the dark. I hurriedly wiped away the few stray tears and gently pressed on my eyelids to alleviate the pressure. When I opened them again, he stood in front of me.

He was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. I gasped as I took him in, the softness of him.

He had long black hair, half done up into a bun at the back of his head. He was dressed in a black cheollik with red hems and pulled together by a silk red string adorned with dark grey jade, and his underclothes were also in black. He was barefoot, standing on my cold wooden bedroom floor like he didn’t feel the chill at all, when I already started shivering in my thin night robes. My eyes shot back to his face. He was ethereally pretty, all sharp edges but still looking so soft and lovely it stole my breath away. Even though his eyes were shockingly blue, I could see the kindness in them, unlike his mouth that was pulled into a mischievous smirk. Just I as I imagined he so often had.

I could see he started nervously fiddling with his sleeves, face flashing with panic and unsureness. He stepped from foot to foot, looking at the ground bashfully, before looking back up at me with wide round eyes full of pure-hearted earnestness.

“What do you think?” he asked, as if I was looking at fruit at the market. He squirmed in his place again and I couldn’t bare to let him believe that I didn’t think he was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. In a few quick strides I crossed the room to him and threw myself into his arms. He caught me, as always, and I had begun believing he always would, and pressed me closer into him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled him down by his neck and pressed our lips together.

Taehyung caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around me and taking charge, kissing me like a man starved, passionate and hungry and all-consuming, filling my head and my heart with him and only him. I dreaded my husband’s return, because it would mean my little fantasy dream life would dissolve and Taehyung would have to disappear again, but for now I focused on his mouth claiming mine with such fervour it left me breathless.

Seeing Taehyung made things both easier and more difficult. Nothing much changed between us, only now I saw him messing with my things and “helping out” around the house. I heard his endless giggles and sometimes would catch a glimpse of his figure before he disappeared into a different part of the house, and I always trailed behind him and looked for whatever it was he misplaced or swapped.

I found that even though he was visible to me most of the time, he still didn’t talk much, preferring to sit by me and watch me with fond eyes. He would silently take heavy things from my hands and carry them for me, only sending a playful grin my way, or push me away from the cutting board to prepare the ingredients himself with a simple quiet “let me help”. I liked it. Taehyung filled the space with his presence, with kind eyes and gentle laughs and comfortableness I haven’t felt with anyone else. Sometimes laughs would just bubble out of my throat at his antics or at his expressions and I stopped, surprised at my own ability to laugh. I was happy. I felt content.

I loved him, and I knew that. I wanted my life to be like this from now on until the end of time. More and more often I found myself thinking how married life wouldn’t be that bad if my husband was Taehyung, and I blushed at those thoughts, but couldn’t fully fight them away. I imagined him chopping the firewood in the yard (he already did that for me after he saw me with an axe one), taking care of the animals (it wasn’t unusual for him to feed the hens and the pigs after sundown, since Minhwan was already long gone around then) and then coming home to happily eat supper I worked so hard on (he loved my cooking and never failed to compliment me). I loved watching him walking around the farm as if it was him who owned it, him who married me. Him who loved me.

And during the nights… Taehyung was more than happy to dote on me, naughty hands suddenly insatiable once I showed interest, bringing me to the peak of pleasure every morning, wandering around my curves and gently squeezing and loving on every inch he could reach. I melted in his hands, my brain suddenly interested only in how to get him to please me again. But he never moved it further, no matter how much I gently probed, tried to touch him back or insinuated that I would like to do more, he always grasped my hands and pulled me into a tight hug until we ended up falling asleep.

I was confused. I wasn’t a virgin. I knew how it worked between men and women and I trusted him with my body and my pleasure, and I wanted to return it too, learn how to please him too, but he didn’t seem to want that to happen. He would always give me this unsure smile and then hold me all the tighter and I didn’t want to push him.

But while I found my domestic bliss in Taehyung’s presence, it was harshly brought down every time my husband returned home. Even though he’d become strangely withdrawn, he always seemed to fill the house with gloom and uncomfortable tension, choking every spare inch in despair. I was dancing on eggshells around him, trying my hardest not to draw his attention lest he redirects his ire to me.

This explosiveness was also new. He’d been angry at me before, but never like this, never with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands, spewing poison until I was trembling with fear and shame, and then walking out. He would scream at me for the food not being warm, about spilling something on the floor, about not cleaning proficiently enough, and I begun to dread his returns, because he would always smell of alcohol, opium and other vices, and immediately find something to vent on, only to become silent and absent the moment after.

I could see on Taehyung he was worried for me. I wasn’t a fool, I knew he was present and heard everything, I could feel it in his sad tender eyes, in his loving caresses and the little gifts he would leave me. I wanted to assure him that everything was okay, that this was just my life and I had to deal with that, that him being around the house was already making a dreadful reality all the more bearable, but sometimes he just zoned out and I saw the cogs turning in his head, trying to come up with a way to somehow deal with this. But there was nothing that could be done.

While Minhwan spiralled and came home looking worse and worse every day, Taehyung tried his best to raise me up and make me feel better. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

One afternoon we were enjoying a particular sunny day, the door to the kitchen cracked open to let in the crisp freezing air, but I couldn’t feel the chill, not with Taehyung plastered to my back. He hung off of me, hugging me and whining playfully, his hands ever so often straying to my thighs or breasts, trying to rile me up while I made broth. I would always slap them away, but I couldn’t hide the blush on my cheeks or the way my body started responding to him and demanding his attention lower.

I was playing with the idea of letting him pleasure me right in the kitchen in the middle of the day, when Taehyung behind me stiffened, arms tightening around me. At first I didn’t register it, but when the sound of snow crunching under someone’s shoes reached my ears, I panicked. Throwing the wooden spoon away I turned and pushed Taehyung away from me.

“Quick, disappear! Minhwan must have returned!” I whispered urgently, almost sobbing with frustration when the dark-haired man just continued standing there as we both listened to the footsteps getting closer. He was looking out the door, his face curious but impassive, as if he didn’t realise the impending doom.

“Taehyung!” I cried out desperately, pushing him away just as the doors slammed opened. I froze and turned to the door, while Taehyung’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into his chest. At first I recognised the gesture as protective, but then I realised it was too casual.

I forced myself to see through the panic and registered that in the door stood a complete stranger. He regarded us both with a bored expression, his eyes sliding down my panicked frozen face and then skipping to Taehyung, sneering lightly in a pretend angry manner.

“So this is where you spend your days, I haven’t seen you in forever,” he grumbled a touch whinily and made himself comfortable on one of the seating pillows in the corner. He had elegant gestures and moved about in a graceful manner, he was also dressed in expensive clothes, showing off to everyone his status as a son of a wealthy yangban family. His face was sharp and impassive, but I could see a strange spark of something in his feline eyes.

“Hyung,” Taehyung said cutely and pulled me towards the man in expensive robes, “this is Y/N.” I stared dumbly between the two men, flabbergasted at the situation I had suddenly found myself in. Hyung? Was this another demon?

The man in question nodded towards me, showing polite interest. He looked intimidating, but whenever his eyes jumped to Taehyung, there was softness in them, and his face would suddenly relax and look more human and boyish.

“This is one of my hyungs,” Taehyung said towards me and then leaned closer until he could whisper into my ear: “He’s a tiger spirit.” I gasped lightly and looked at the man. He gave me a goofy toothy grin, his posture loosening as he made himself more comfortable. I slipped into the hostess mode and started offering drinks and food and he indulged happily, even getting Taehyung to take a glass with him. I listened to their gentle teasing for a while, content with watching him be so happy and carefree.

“So if one wants to see your face around these parts, they have to come here, huh?” said the tiger with a little smirk and winked towards me. I giggled and added: “As long as my husband isn’t home.” I immediately blushed, but the feelings of shame I used to feel over this have ebbed away and now I could only feel a little twinge of it as a phantom pain, before I put it away and focused on the men in my presence.

“Oh, I know your husband very well,” the man said, his face turning into a mysterious sharp hungry grin, “He isn’t home very often.” Taehyung tensed behind me, and I glanced at him, before throwing a confused smile at the visitor.

“What do you mean you know my husband well?” I asked, ignoring the way Taehyung’s hands tightened around me. I refused to turn his way, instead focusing my all attention at the dangerous being sat in front of us.

“He plays cards out of his league,” the man stated, eyes glinting with some feral contentment, “He lost a lot of money to a lot of people. An especially big sum to a certain very dangerous man that likes to prowl around those parlours.” It felt as if I was thrown into a freezing water, the panic seizing me at this information. I had known, to a certain extent, that he must have gotten himself into something, but losing in cards and owing money to someone dangerous, that would absolutely destroy my life alongside his. Distressed, I looked to Taehyung, who immediately pushed his hand into my hair in an attempt to comfort me.

“Hyung, stop that,” he scolded the man gently, “Stop scaring her.” I blinked at Taehyung owlishly.

“You knew?” I whispered the question, my heart aching when the dark-haired man looked away with guilt etched into his handsome face.

“I told him,” the older man piped up again, gently inserting himself back into the conversation he himself started, “I happen to have an insight into the situation. Don’t fear, dear, this is between your husband and the forces he messed with.” The vague statement did nothing to ease my anxiety and my eyes flitted between the two men again, but I chose to not say anything anymore. They shared a resolute look, full of determination, and then moved on from the topic.

Mr. Min, as I finally learnt his name, stayed for a better part of the afternoon, only departing once the night fell with only the moon lighting his way. His sharp eyes seemed to glow in the dark and once again I was reminded that he was a spirit of the mountain. I snickered gently at that. Look at me, the cursed widow dining with a demon and a tiger. If the old ladies in my home village knew that, they would lose their minds.

Taehyung wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we watched his friend go, looking at my amusement fondly, but the way his hand squeezed me I could tell he was worried about the conversation we had. I looked at him, truly looked at him, and contemplated whether to bring it up again.

He sensed it, his face turning a little guilty and sheepish again, before turning to me, grabbing both of my shoulders and saying: “Y/N, do you trust me?” Did I? Of course I did. I loved him, I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone. He never failed me, never gave me a reason not to trust him. So I nodded firmly.

“Then know that it will be taken care of,” he stated, voice gentle and kind, “I wouldn’t let this impact you.” I nodded again, looking at him fondly before caving in and seeking the warmth of his embrace. He held me tightly, then and through the night, whispering words of love. I trusted them.

I should have known that this would smudge lines, that me living my little fantasy with Taehyung and him living in the house fully visible would lead to us being careless and slipping. But still, when it happened, I was sorely unprepared for the whirlwind it started.

We depended too much on the belief that Minhwan wouldn’t return home early. He didn’t, in the past weeks. Every morning, I would watch the sun climb pretty high up on the sky before the door slammed open and he trudged in wordlessly demanding food. Taehyung spent the mornings lazily spread out in the bed, stretching like an over-sized cat, grinning at me lazily and watching me get ready for the day. And usually I would be woken up by his gentle hands or kisses, or by the sun shining through to my face, or the cold would make me turn and snuggle deeper into my lover’s arms.

So when I got woken up by a scream, I was shocked and confused to my core. I jerked up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and looking for the source of the commotion, heart beating out of my chest and throat tight. It was a cry of rage, a man’s ire bursting through the quiet comfortable space of early morning.

There was a flash of movement and then suddenly I was being painfully pulled out of the bed by my upper arm. I cried out, legs fighting to get into working order and stop the pain from the uncomfortable angle. Suddenly I was face to face with a seething Minhwan, his face red and bloated, twisted into a grimace of pure primal rage. He grabbed onto both of my shoulders, nails digging into my skin until I feared he would draw blood, shaking me violently.

He screamed something, but I was too tired and shocked to fully comprehend what has happened. Panic started pumping through my veins, my breathing getting out of my control as I choked on the instinctual fear of being met with a man in such an emotional state. He shook me again and I got dizzy. Behind me the bed was empty, but very obviously slept in.

 As if wading through a thick fog, I finally realised he must have seen Taehyung in the bed and my knees buckled. He let me fall, let me knock painfully into the wooden floor as he paced around the door. Thoughts going a mile a minute I scrambled to try and come up with something, with anything instead of just sitting there staring dumbly. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, slipping slowly down as my mouth opened and closed. My head hurt, my chest was so tight I could barely breathe and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might just tear right out of my body. I looked at my shaking hands and released a few strained breaths.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Minhwan was suddenly screaming right into my face and I flinched. It was as if a filter lifted off of the world and the sound was suddenly getting to me fully, the thumping of his feet on the floor, his ragged breathing, his enraged mumblings. I stared at him blankly for a moment and in a split second decided to play it the only way I could.

“W-what happened?” I asked quietly, still looking at him with wide confused eyes, movements sluggish. I put a hand to my head, shaking it from side to side. At least I didn’t have to pretend I had a headache.

Minhwan stopped pacing and regarded me with suspicion. Come on, I prayed to myself, I know you must have seen him disappear in front of your eyes. He watched me for a moment, and I made sure to look as disoriented as I could, blinking blearily around and pulling a blanket closer over my rapidly cooling body. The seconds ticked away as he just looked around the room, watched the bed, the doors, as if measuring whether the man could have gotten away around him. He wasn’t saying anything for the longest time, and I felt like I was losing my mind, fearing any moment he’ll decide I was a liar and do god knows what in a fit of rage, but then he looked at me again with eyes filled with more confusion and fear than rage.

“Do you really not know?” he inquired, and his voice was grating to me, rough from speaking and drinking the whole night. I nodded slowly and then asked again: “What happened? Why were you screaming?” His face filled with determination, and he wordlessly walked out of the room. I scrambled to follow after him.

“Where are you going? What’s going on?” I hammered him, looking for a confirmation that I was safe, at least for the moment, but he just silently started fastening his hat back on. Finally, right before walking back out of the door, he turned to me and said: “I’m getting the exorcist.”

The next few hours I spent sitting in the house in panicked silence, wondering what my fate would be beyond this day. What would the shamaness say? How will this go? Do I have to pretend to get exorcised? I tried calling out to Taehyung, but he didn’t respond once. I bit my nails and paced around the house, counting every second ticking by as if waiting for execution.

By the time the door slid open again and stone-faced Minhwan stepped in, my nerves were completely frayed, and I could barely support my own weight on my shaking knees. My head snapped into the direction of the noise, and I saw a man and a woman step inside. The moment their eyes landed on me, they bowed slightly to me, but said nothing and instead followed my husband through the house into the bedroom. I hurriedly trailed after them, shaky hands with nails bitten almost bloody grasping onto my skirt to ground myself at least a little bit.

When I stepped into the room, Minhwan was gesturing to the bed, still unmade as I was too panicked to clean, and explaining what had happened.

“I walked in and saw four feet instead of two,” he said darkly, anger shining through to the surface again, “They were clearly man’s feet. I threw a shoe at him and started screaming, but then he was just gone. He disappeared into thin air. When she woke up, she was disoriented and had no idea what was going on.” I listened to him with a lump in my throat and when they all turned to look at me standing in the door, my knees almost buckled. I hoped that my nervousness would be interpreted as my unawareness, but when the woman’s eyes bore into me with a startling intensity, I couldn’t help but flinch and look down.

She came over to me and an expectant silence fell over the room, all of us collectively holding our breath and waiting for her judgement. She grabbed my chin, not roughly but definitely not gently, and moved my head so that I was looking at her. Her eyes flitted across my face, in search of something. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but I wondered how I must have looked to her. Did I look guilty? Did I look sick? What did she see?

She examined me for a moment and then let me go and stepped back to the man. She looked at him and nodded.

“It is a demon of sickness,” the man spoke, “He was draining your wife’s life energy, eventually saddling her with plague or similar illness. It is good you caught him before he did irreparable damage to her.” I touched my own face, wondering how bad I looked for her to come to the conclusion I was getting drained in such a way, but felt immense relief. Before I caught myself, I swayed, the feelings of anxiety crashing onto me, leaving my body too weak to stay upright. I crashed into the door and barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor full force. The woman rushed to me and pulled me up, holding onto my arm and helping me stand in a manner she must have believed was comforting.

“Don’t worry, darling, he will not get you,” she whispered in a raspy old voice, “We will take care of this.” I mumbled something out, an insincere thanks, and propped myself up by the door. Instinctively I looked to Minhwan and found him already looking at, eyes coldly assessing me. He was scaring me, I had no idea where I stood with him and what was going through his mind, but I hoped this would buy me some time. I looked back to the floor and started smoothing out my skirts with shaky hands.

“We will get the supplies we’ll need and return tomorrow with the dawn,” the man spoke again, looking mainly to Minhwan, “For tonight, hang garlic and onion around the house. The foul smell will keep the demons away. I will draw you a talisman for your door and main gate, plaster it on the wood and keep it there until we come.” My husband curtly nodded.

The pair started moving towards the door to leave and Minhwan followed them out. I took the time to slide down to the door. I was trying to keep myself calm, but the stressed tears came anyway, rolling down my cheeks and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Once Minhwan returned, I was silently sobbing on the floor, too overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in these few hours.

Minhwan regarded me silently and then moved to the main room, sat by the fireplace and didn’t speak again. I sat there, filled with dread, and waited. Waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to fly off of his handle and do something, but the house was eerily silent. In the end I pulled myself together and moved about my day as if nothing was happening, as if Minhwan wasn’t sitting in the other room counting minutes before sun went down. The uncomfortable atmosphere stretched over us like a suffocating blanket and even though I went with the motions, cooked food and served it, I wasn’t even interested in eating, and neither seemed to be Minhwan.

With dark setting over the dwelling, the moon shining over the snow and creating a silver glow over everything, I found myself anxiously glancing at my husband to see whether he would leave, but he stayed firmly sat. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had to have a talk with Taehyung, confide in him and see what he thinks we should do. I desperately craved his comfort and calming presence, I needed him to hold me and kiss me and whisper about all the things he loved, I needed him to whisk me away into the woods and keep me away from this life I had found myself in.

As I paced around the bedroom nervously, I realised that. I wanted to leave with him. I wanted to flee into his reality and leave my own behind. I needed to talk to Taehyung soon.

The door slid open, and I flinched and instinctively moved a few steps further into the room. Minhwan looked at me, his eyes empty and dark, and then moved to the corner of the room, sitting down and staring soullessly at me.

“Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?” came his gruff voice when I stood there frozen for too long, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I could hear a certain accusation in it and my heart jumped into my throat. Without saying anything, I mechanically moved to my vanity and started brushing my hair while keeping an eye on my husband’s dark form slouched in the corner. His eyes never left me, slowly with every second ticking by filling with more and more pure hatred.

The room felt as if it was freezing, the air so heavy with tension I could taste it on my tongue. I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, my clammy hands squeezing around the brush.

“I feel quite stupid now, you see,” Minhwan started suddenly, his cold voice startling me. I turned around to look at him, trying to keep my expression neutral but knowing I probably looked truly scared and guilty. He stared at me expectantly, but when I failed to say anything, he continued.

“I saw it,” he simply stated, “the hairpin.” It felt as if time stopped, the blood freezing in my veins with one simple word. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but I ultimately failed to say anything. He knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to the market to buy it myself, there was nothing I could say to excuse that.

“I saw how certain mornings you seemed to be flustered,” he continued quietly, “how you changed, I saw the flowers you tried to hide.” He chuckled darkly, mirthlessly, but stayed sprawled out in the corner, watching me. I sat frozen in front of my vanity, brush still in hand, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I ignored it, of course,” Minhwan carried on, seemingly okay with being the only one to talk, “I know how hard it is to get here and there’s no one close enough to sneak here like this. But when I went to town for the shamaness, I started remembering these moments. I saw the hairpin in my mind, as clear as day. And it made sense. Whatever he is, you knew about him.” I gulped, but said nothing, staring at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movements and I looked up startled. Minhwan was now moving towards me, slow and calculated, and dread filled me.

I looked up at him and couldn’t help a few stray tears escaping me. Minhwan watched me coldly, but it was so different than what I was used to from him and it terrified me. This was a different kind of rage, the kind that made people unpredictable, the kind when you know the person is so angry they’ve become calm.

He slowly threaded his hand into my hair, gripping it tightly until I could feel slight pain. He angled my head, watching the tears slide down my face with a scowl. Then he pushed my head away and released my hair, sending me crashing into the vanity. I caught myself on my hands, but the impact still hurt and I whimpered through the tears.

I heard Minhwan moving about the room, thrashing the chest I kept some of my belongings in, tearing through my fine robes and sending little reminders and keepsakes flying through the room and crashing into the floor and the walls. With every crash I flinched again and again, shrinking into myself and slowly slinking into the corner behind my vanity.

Minhwan finally got to what he was looking for – the dried flowers and other little gifts Taehyung has been bringing me. Whatever he got his hands on, he destroyed, tearing the flowers apart or breaking things by throwing them on the floor. I watched him helplessly, now fully sobbing as I witnessed my life being torn apart.

Minhwan paid me no mind, his eyes catching onto something in the chest. He bent over to pull out the object, and I eyed him carefully before I realised what it was. The hairpin. He glanced over at me and when he saw my eyes trained to it, he smirked with such malice it made shiver. He gripped it with both hands and then with a quick gesture broke it in half. Before I could stop myself, I cried out with my hands outstretched going to grab it, grab him, just do anything to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t. Minhwan threw the broken pin on the floor, and I watched the little gem break away and fall through the tiles.

Minhwan walked over to me again and crouched down so he could look at me closer.

“Did he get you pregnant?” he suddenly asked, and it was such an unexpected question it shocked me into silence as I just stared at him dumbly. Then I just slowly shook my head. Minhwan’s face stayed impassive. He just stared at me until I started squirming in my place, my skin crawling with fear and nervousness.

Then he just got up and walked out.

I stayed put, not daring to move from my place, but I strained my ears to hear whatever he was doing. He walked around the main room for a moment and then his footsteps seemed to get further away until I heard the door slide open, slide shut and then silence. I held my breath, waiting for a moment before I allowed myself to decompress, immediately slumping down onto the ground. With the stress rapidly draining from my body, I found myself a shaking crying mess. I crawled over to the chest and grabbed onto whatever destroyed piece of memory I could, cradling them to my chest and desperately hoping that I could mend it, that it would all go away. That I’d wake up in Taehyung’s arms and he’d console me and tell me it was all a bad dream.

I didn’t sleep that night. And Minhwan didn’t return in the morning. The shamaness and her husband came knocking with the dawn and I sat on the porch and expressionlessly watched the main gate rattle and shake under their fists, listened to their raised concerned voices calling to be let in. I was drained, empty and exhausted. I waited until they got tired of it and left, and then I continued sitting there watching the trees move, the sun travel the sky. I could barely feel the frost biting at my fingers, my arms, my face. I could barely feel anything.

For two days, I waited. I sat around the house and watched the walls, walked around the yard and looked outside, into the forest and the trees. Minhwan didn’t return. Taehyung didn’t return. I was completely alone, in the silent house, just wondering whether I was forsaken by both of them, wondering what would happen if neither of them came back.

On the dawn of the third day, I heard footsteps in the yard. My stomach dropped and my heart felt like a piece of ice. Footsteps meant Minhwan. Footsteps meant the end of my life, meant my husband was back and there was no telling what he would do.

I drew the blanket closer to myself and resignedly made my way outside. I would accept whatever was to come. Except the moment I slid the door open, I saw a sheepish Taehyung nervously stepping from foot to foot in our yard. I could only guess how I looked, but when he saw me, he closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, arms immediately pulling me into his chest. I felt my resolve break and desperately clawed at him, pulled him closer, just needing to touch him and make sure he was real and he came back.

He pulled back and I whined, but he took my face into his hands, gazing upon me with tenderness and sadness and despair. His fingers smoothed out the worried lines on my face, touched the puffy cheeks and eyes, gently caressed my face until I could see my vision blurring with unshed tears. Taehyung sighed and bent down to lightly kiss my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly, his voice like soft caress for my soul after days of loneliness and solitude, and sudden onslaught of emotions hit me like a stone wall. I grabbed onto his robe and looked into his kind beautiful eyes.

“Where were you?” it came out choked on a sob and I couldn’t even wait for his answer before the dam broke and I started crying. Taehyung held me through it, he took me in his arms and carried me inside, petted my back and held my face, whispered to me and it almost felt like a huge déjà vu to the first night I let him get closer to me. He apologised again and again, and I should have pressed for more answers, but I was so relieved he returned, I couldn’t bring myself to ask more.

When I calmed down, Taehyung’s attention was finally drawn to the state of the house. I didn’t clean up the bedroom, I barely even slept, and all the broken things were still lying around. It must have been quite a sight – a broken life, and in the middle of it all, a broken me. But instead of saying anything, he just reached over to grab the remnants of the hairpin. I watched him wordlessly, heart struck with grief at the sight of it, but he played with it for a moment, eyes peeking over at me and grinning mischievously. I returned it shakily, heavy emotions still weighing the corners of my mouth down but I tried, head leaning on his shoulder.

He encased the broken parts of it into his hands and shook them little. I thought nothing of it, watching his hands turn from side to side, expecting this to be just a way to distract me, but when his hands stopped, he uncovered his palm with a grand gesture and I gasped. There, lying on his palm, was the hairpin in one piece, looking as if it’s never been broken.

I immediately went to grab it, but he moved his hand away, keeping it out of my reach. Instead, he grabbed my brush and started slowly brushing out my tangled unkept hair. I let him care for me, I sat there on the floor of my thrashed bedroom, leaned on him and listened to him hum as he played with my hair. When Tae was satisfied with it, he tied my hair with his red ribbon and then pushed in the hairpin.

The fondness in his eyes when he looked over his work warmed my heart, and I relaxed into his embrace.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Taehyung whispered again, “I shouldn’t have left you alone.” I shook my head and tightened my arms around him.

“There was nothing you could have done,” I told him and attempted to smile. I wanted to ease his worries, but I still felt too shaken.

“I should have been here,” Taehyung reiterated, “You needed me, and I failed you.” I squeezed his waist, trying to share comfort to him as he did to me. He looked at me fondly with a little smile, then kissed me gently.

“Where were you?” I asked again, this time much more calmly. Taehyung’s face fell immediately and I expected him not to want to tell me, but with some difficulty he started talking.

“I went to my hyung,” he admitted to me, and I realised there was guilt in his expression, “I asked him to sort something out for me.” I looked at him confused, but his face has turned hard and cold, gazing out of the room. I wanted to ask more, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It didn’t matter now, all that mattered was that he returned.

“We need to leave,” I blurted out suddenly, the calmness leaving my body. I turned on my knees and grabbed onto his clothed shoulders, looking into his eyes with urgency. Taehyung smiled at me and attempted to sit me back down, but I wouldn’t let him. “We really need to leave, before my husband returns,” I continued, the words falling out of me quickly, “I don’t know where he went, he hasn’t returned for a few days, but when he returns I cannot say what he will do.”

Taehyung’s hands pushed onto my shoulders, gentle smile on his face, mouth opening to tell me something, no doubt to calm down, but I jumped in before he got a chance.

“No, you don’t understand Taehyung, he knows,” I whispered urgently, “He knows about us. When he returns… Taehyung, I’m scared of what will happen…” I trailed off, hands flexing and bunching up the fabric of his robes. A few stray tears escaped my eyes, and I was surprised I even had some left in me, after the last few days.

Taehyung gave me a soft smile, hands coming up to hold my face. He gently wiped my tears away and bent down to kiss my forehead, my nose and finally my lips. I watched him, despair mixing with love and fear inside of me, making me feel like I was about to explode. I didn’t know how else explain to him that we weren’t safe here.

“I’m ready to leave,” I whispered again, desperate and broken, “Please Taehyung, I’ll go with you. I’m ready to go. There’s nothing left here.” He said nothing, but caressed my hair, fingers smoothing out the edges of my cold wet face. His eyes were trained on his hands moving on my skin, as if he wasn’t registering what I said at all. I could see in them that he was battling something, lips pursed in a bittersweet smile like they were trying to keep in some awful truths.

My heart gave a few painful pumps before it felt like it stilled completely. My hands fell from him as despair and hurt took over. Suddenly the realisation hit me, the realisation of what this must have been for him. A goodbye. My lips curled around a silent sob, but I couldn’t cry more, there was nothing left inside.

Taehyung noticed my plight and immediately pulled back into him, and I realised why he looked so guilty when we sat down.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” the words barely left my mouth, so quiet they could be barely heard, but Taehyung reacted to them immediately, arms tightening around me.

“No, darling, of course I’m not,” he replied, but I didn’t want to hear more lies, not now and not ever. My own hands balled into fists in my lap.

“Please, tell me the truth,” I said resolutely, looking straight into his eyes that were coloured by confusion at my statement. “What are you talking about?” Taehyung asked, lost and worried. His hands travelled across my shoulders and back, grabbing onto anywhere they could and then passing on as he tried to comfort me without fully knowing what was happening.

“You didn’t respond before,” I told him, and the realisation seemed to hit him almost instantly. “Oh, darling,” he whispered and kissed me softly again, “of course I want you to leave with me. But…” He seemed to struggle there, looking down to his lap guiltily, fingers digging into my shoulders nervously. I grabbed onto his shoulders too and pressed a little closer, until our faces were just a breath away.

“What is it?” I asked, desperate for a resolution, desperate to leave this all behind and go into the woods with him, follow him wherever he’d take me.

“Your husband…” Taehyung started and I tensed at the mention, but I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next, “he isn’t coming back.” I scrunched my face up in confusion. Taehyung avoided my eyes again, this time looking towards the door with a quiet resolution painted on his face.

“What are you talking about?” I pushed out of my mouth, mind muddled and tongue tied, “Of course he is, and he’ll bring all hell back with him.” Taehyung sighed, hands flexing into my skin.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he reiterated, urgency taking over his sweet, honeyed tone, “He isn’t coming back. Ever.” I froze when I finally put together what he had tried to tell me. I wish I could say I was terrified. I wish I could say that I was filled with dread and panic and disgust instead of relief, I wish I could say that I pushed him away, confused and hurt, instead of letting out a shocked laugh, hands immediately searching for his face. I turned him so he’d look at me.

He was painted with shame and guilt, with fear that I would hate him for the implication, so I gently caressed his face and laid a little kiss over his furrowed brows. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief. My heart was beating fast, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of nervousness or joy. I wondered whether that made me a bad person, whether I was cursed after all. But when Taehyung opened his eyes and gave me a toothy grin, it didn’t seem to matter much.

“What did you do?” I asked the question in a hushed whisper, as if discussing my husband’s demise was a thrilling secret just between the two of us. Based on the dark-haired man’s reaction to it he was expecting to hear a horror-struck tone, not the casualness with which I spoke about this matter, but he shook the surprise quick enough.

“Do you remember my hyung? The tiger?” Taehyung begun his explanation, a small smile taking over his face when I nodded in answer, “He was the one your husband owed money to. It was a matter of time before he’d gotten himself reaped, I just called in an early favour.” I frowned slightly at that.

“You mean that my husband was always destined to die?” the question was asked more out of curiosity than concern, but Taehyung still seemed to be a little on edge, fearing my reaction and attempting to gauge my emotional state. Still, he indulged me.

“He was since the moment he decided to play cards against a spirit,” Taehyung explained, “Tigers don’t play for money. We have no need for earthly possessions. But the more the human loses to you, the more under your power they are. With the mounting debt, the spirit only bides his time, terrorising the soul and pushing them into losing more. Then the spirit only waits until they’ve lost the amount of money that could buy their soul, before reaping. Your husband was a lost cause since Yoongi set his eyes on him.” I took in the information slowly, but to me his death was inconsequential now. Taehyung would take me away, I didn’t have to fear being left behind and collected by a family-in-law and living out the rest of my life as a proper widow, a property of my husband’s relatives. With that my only concern was taken care of and I found myself empty of any big reactions regarding his impending sudden demise.

“Do souls have prices, then?” I inquired more, interested in his earlier statement. Taehyung’s eyes sparkled slightly, as if he was delighted I wanted to know more, delighted that I wasn’t mourning, that I didn’t think him a murderer.

“Yes they do,” he answered simply, “a saint would be hard to tempt, the amount would be higher. A tyrant on the other hand, a sinner, they don’t take much.” I hummed quietly, absent-mindedly playing with some of Taehyung’s long hair. It didn’t take much to know which category my husband fell to. Getting my questions answered, I was satisfied to let this subject go. I felt as if a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and off of my heart. I found myself cautiously hopeful, looking forward to leaving this house and everything in it behind, letting it rot and fall to the ground and never return. But Taehyung seemed to have something else on his mind still.

“It was me,” he confessed quietly and suddenly, leaving me confused what he meant. He looked at me, gauging my reaction, fingers nervously playing with the edge of my jeogori. “It was me who told hyung to seek him out and tempt him into playing,” the man finally got out and it seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders too.

I said nothing, hands migrating to caress his hair gently, smiling softly, and then getting up. I walked across the room to where my possessions laid strewn across the floor as if they were violently gutted from the insides of the chest. I found a cloth big enough and started piling the most important things inside. Taehyung watched me quietly, unsure of where I stood, still believing I could shun him for this. I smiled at him again when I caught his sad eyes watching my hands move. He returned it, in the same cautiously hopeful way I felt, and I could just think to myself. How perfect. We’re perfect like this.

“I just need to grab a few things and we can go,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. His returning one was as bright as the sun itself and I felt my drained heart tiredly jumping in joy.

When I gathered everything, he took the bundle from me gently into one of his hands, the other holding mine as I quietly led him out of the cold empty house. Outside, the air was crisp and freezing, but the sun was shining and it filled me with happiness. The snow was sparkling, reflecting the rays of sunlight, blinding me slightly, but I had everything I needed, and it was a beautiful day outside. I squeezed Taehyung’s hand and he returned it.

Once stood in the gate, I turned back to the house wordlessly. I could see through the open doors the mess that was left inside, the state of the bedroom, and the two trails of footsteps leaving forever. Taehyung watched me carefully, making sure I was okay. I nodded at him and he grinned gently. We both turned and walked away.

He led me through the forest, up the mountain path. I’d never been here before, and it seemed that it was a long time since someone else than the demon himself took this path. Briefly I wondered if it even was visible to other people or if it was one of those paths you see once out of the corner of your eyes and then never find it again, even if curiosity kills you from the inside.

Taehyung was walking confidently now, once we crossed the threshold into his world he gained strength and resolve and led me through the trees until we reached a little clearing with a dwelling firmly in the middle of it.

It was smaller than our farm, but it looked much nicer, with little windchimes and colourful decorations hanging from the beam over the porch. Their clanking created a nice ambience in the background and their colourful flashes reflected off of the snow. I smiled fondly at that, feeling at ease.

The house only really had two smaller rooms and a kitchen, but they were filled with books and clothes and paintings. Taehyung seemed to be a lover of arts, his walls full of various pieces varying from flowers to landscapes and portraits. I peeked at them curiously, but Taehyung seemed eager to pull me along until we reached the other room, where a bed was unfolded but untouched. There was a vanity on one side, very similar to the one I had, ready with a brush and another beautiful hairpin sitting next to it, waiting for their owner. I smiled at that, heart filled with so much love it felt like bursting.

Taehyung carefully laid the bundle with my things on the ground and then skipped back over to me, plastering himself to my back, arms possessively coiling around me and lips and nose immediately running over the expanse of the skin at my shoulder and neck. I shuddered lightly, noting his palpable excitement at bringing me to his home.

“This will be our bedroom from now on,” he whispered in a rough voice, laying a series of wet open-mouthed kisses down my shoulder, “This house will become a home.” His hand splayed over my stomach and pushed me more into his form, his heated body melting over me instantly, lips travelling wherever a sliver of skin presented itself to them.

I shuddered lightly, squirming in his arms. I managed to turn to face him and immediately was met with fond eyes full of unshed tears. I grabbed his face and gently pressed our lips together. I meant for the kiss to stay innocent, but Taehyung clearly had a different idea, descending onto me with an urgency of a starving man, lips devouring mine in a hot all-consuming kiss.

I moaned lightly into his mouth, hands tightening in his clothes and subconsciously pulling him closer to me. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, sighing with content when it met mine and twisted and pushed around each other. He towered over me, with every second bending down a little more, making me arch into the kiss. The dark-haired man was grabbing onto my hips, as strong as a vice, digging fingers into the layers of fabric with such force I still felt his nails biting into my skin. My own hands slowly travelled up, tangling into his hair and wrapping around his neck. When I pulled on the strand lightly, Taehyung sighed into my mouth and pushed us closer together.

My mind was quickly becoming muddled, only thoughts of the man in my arms swimming around in my brain, body heating up rapidly and begging for his attention in the way that he used to give me. And with the way he held onto me and pressed into me, he was in a similar state.

Without interrupting our kiss, Taehyung started slowly sliding down to the floor and pulled me with him. I gasped slightly and finally broke our kiss to breathe and take in the new position, but Tae didn’t get discouraged and continued his path down my jawline and my neck. I had enough mind to breathlessly move my head out of the way and present my neck for him, which made him hum appreciatively, his low deep voice purring into my skin. All I could really do was hold on to him and let the sensations sail me further.

I could feel his hands inching higher, until they were kneading my waist, thumbs slipping under the jeogori and messing with my undergarments. My whole body trembled like a plucked string, desire wreaking havoc on my psyche. I released a shaky sigh and decided to be a little bit braver. I grabbed one of his hands, Taehyung making a little questioning sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t stop his ministrations, and I pushed it towards the bow tying my top together.

Taehyung paused only for a second, eyes searching mine for any kind of hesitation, but I only blushed under his heated gaze, the lust taking over the control of my body and pushing my chest more into his curious hands. He no longer wasted time after that, leaning a bit back and making quick work of the binding and soon he had me sitting in his lap in only my undergarments. My lips found his again, needing to feel his touch more than I needed to breathe oxygen.

With new skin now visible Taehyung seemed to be over the moon, a little content sighs and quiet moans leaving his mouth as his fingers travelled across the expanse of my shoulder blades and my arms. The intensity of the kiss kept increasing, my body confusedly trying to move with the motions and seek even more pleasure. When Taehyung gently bit on my lower lip, my hips jerked forward on their own and I could feel a hardness sliding across my centre. We both gasped, Taehyung’s hands jumping to my hips to stop them, but I felt as if a lighting struck me to my core, pleasure zapping through me on a jolt. I gasped, hips mindlessly chasing after the feeling again. Taehyung separated the kiss on a groan, his head falling to my shoulder, hands now encouraging my hips to move instead of stopping them.

For a moment we just enjoyed each other, mindlessly kissing here, grabbing onto each other and chasing the pleasure, moving against each other. I managed to get Taehyung out of his outer robes too and he was clad only in a thin undershirt that teased a little bit of his collarbones, which I immediately covered in kisses. We didn’t speak and the room was filled with the sounds of shifting clothes and airy little gasps and moans, but I needed more. I needed so much more.

Taehyung’s lips travelled down to the edge of my undergarment, kissing the soft swell teasing my breasts, and I gasped and arched and curved into him, but I could feel the smirk settling on his face as he moved away again. I whined, mind gone and begging for more solid touch, for his hand between my legs and his lips biting into my shoulders.

I pushed onto his shoulders and as Taehyung wasn’t expecting it, he went easily, slight alarm painting his face, but I just grabbed him and pulled his face back to mine. The moment our lips crashed together, I keened, licking into his mouth desperately. The dark-haired man chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on me.

With one hand gently laid on my lower back, he slowly toppled us over until I was lying on the ground with his weight settling gently on top of me, legs tangled and lips intertwined. With a wet smack our lips separated and for a moment we both just looked at each other breathing hard, but then the time and reality caught up to my overheated excited brain and I immediately started tearing at his clothes, untying anything I got my hands on and pushing the fabric away until his whole torso was on display.

I choked on a moan, the desire reigniting within me tenfold. He was beautiful, strong and lean, honey-toned skin blemishless and perfect. Distracted with all the possibilities and my body screaming at me to have the man take me now, take me as soon as possible, my hands wildly flitted over his chest, kneading the skin but not settling anywhere for too long. I decided to pay back the favour and my lips latched onto his neck, making him shudder and moan. I played around lightly, just like he had, kissing anywhere I could, moving south to his pecks and then back up all the way to his ear with wet open-mouthed kisses, revealing just how far gone I was and how needy he made me with his earlier ministrations.

Taehyung buried his face into the crook of my neck, skin rippling with every touch, releasing low groans right into my ear, which made me work even harder. I was ecstatic that I was finally able to touch him too, ecstatic by the prospect of returning the pleasure he had been bestowing me with all these mornings that would have otherwise been cold and lonely.

With that thought in mind, my hands shifted to his hips, at first seemingly just sitting there and holding onto him, but slowly moving downwards, pushing the pants down. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice at first, but once I got low enough to expose the v of his hips and the thicker part of his happy trail, he let out a loud excited groan, body shaking with anticipation.

His lips pressed into my ear. “Do you want to see me? Touch me?” he whispered, voice rough and aroused. I gasped quietly, legs falling open more so that he could settle his hips more comfortably and I could see the moment I finally pushed them low enough, breath held in excitement.

“Yes, please,” I answered in a similarly debauched hushed voice, “please, Taehyung.” His chest rumbled happily, lips busying themselves with biting and kissing into my neck. I must have been absolutely covered with little red and purple bruises and the thought sent a bolt of arousal through me, my body jerking underneath the bigger man.

“Go ahead then, darling,” he said sensually, regaining back a little control. His hips stiffened, allowing me to pull them down the final stretch, releasing his erection. It hit his lower stomach with a tiny noise, the wet tip leaving a little smear of clear liquid there. I clenched on nothing, a gush of wetness suddenly leaving me at the prospect of having him inside of me. He was watching me closely, a wild look on his face, and the more excited I felt, the hungrier he looked.

Then Taehyung pressed his face to mine again, lips caressing the shell of my ear as he whispered: “Do you want it? Do you want my cock, darling?” I nodded, a whimper escaping me, thighs and pussy throbbing with pure burning need. I was so aroused my head was spinning and every thought inside curled around the pleasure this man was providing me with. He clicked his tongue though, and shook his head a little, giving me a playful grin.

“Then you need to say it,” he stated meanly, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Good girls always ask for it.” The way his tongue wrapped around the words good girl made me borderline delirious, back arching and thighs spreading even further, until my hips hurt and I was gasping with the liquid lust coursing through my veins.

“Please!” I whined out again, hands grabbing onto his searing hot skin and attempting to pull him closer, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no, no, darling,” his voice seemed even darker and richer than usual and I was losing my mind on the little rasp, his tongue peeking out to play with the lobe of my ear quickly sending me spinning, “You need to say it.”

“Please, Taehyung,” I choked out, a few tears of frustrated arousal slipping down my cheeks, “I want you.” He smiled, giving me false sense of victory, but still kept his hips away from mine. I whined again, not knowing what else to do.

“I want to hear the words from your mouth, darling,” he stated firmly, “Say ‘Please Taehyung, I want your cock’.” I gasped at his words, the flush on my face deepening despite the lewdness of the situation I already found myself in. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips and Taehyung’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth, fascinated.

“I want your cock,” I whispered, the arousal pushing me into boldness I’ve never displayed before, “Please, Taehyung, I want your cock so bad.” He groaned and I saw the exact moment his pupils expanded with pure lust and his eyes were overtaken by desire to have me. While his lips crashed to mine, his hand grabbed one of mine and pulled it towards his cock and wrapping it around it.

I squeezed on instinct and Taehyung moaned into me, hips bucking gently. I took a moment to feel him out, just gently ran my hands over the ridges and curves. I could feel the way Taehyung trembled, the way his breathing stuttered on tiny, muted groans, his eyes firmly shut. His hands grabbed onto my thighs and dug into them through the underskirt still half covering me from his eyes.

When I began sliding my hand up and down the shaft, Taehyung’s head once again fell to my shoulder, open mouth pressing into my skin and releasing rugged moans. His hips jerked forward in tiny motions, thrusting lightly into my curled hands. I was content with touching him, but my body also screamed for attention, thighs shaking and muscles in my belly contracting in pleasurable little ripples. I was so wet I could feel my essence sliding down my thighs and my bottom, leaving a little puddle on the bedding under us.

I squeezed around him lightly and he jerked into my hands harder, a debauched groan leaving him. I spasmed, pussy pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled up to the brim, an answering moan leaving my own lips. Taehyung looked at me through half-lidded eyes, reason completely overridden by the need to push himself into my tight wet heat at the clear need depicted on my face, he shuddered again, pre-cum leaking out the red tip of his painfully erect cock.

His hands scrambled to grab my skirt and push it up my legs until it pooled around my stomach, wet pussy exposed to his needy hands. He didn’t waste any time and pulled his fingers through my folds, teasing my clit for a moment and punching out desperate moans out of me, whole body spasming at the sudden onslaught of pleasure cursing through me, but then his fingers hurriedly slid down and pushed inside of me. At the feeling of his fingers getting so easily swallowed up by my wet cunt he groaned, thrusting them in a little and scissoring to make sure I was absolutely ready to take a cock, but both of us were beyond gone with desire.

I was enjoying the feeling of finally having something inside of me, but it didn’t last for long. After a few hurried thrusts of his fingers, Taehyung pulled his hand away and I whined, arching my back, pussy chasing after him. He quickly swatted my hands from his length and lowered his hips until we were pressing into each other, his cock snuggly sliding through my wet folds.

Our breaths were knocked out of us on deep satisfied groans. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, coating himself in my juices to ensure easier slide, and then pushed inside with one firm motion, cock driving inside of me without any resistance, filling me absolutely all the way up on the first thrust. I threw my head back, mouth open on a silent scream, the contentment of finally having him inside me lighting my every nerve on fire and satisfying something deep inside of my core. I trembled, desperately holding onto him as my brain turned to mush with barely anything.

Taehyung was having more trouble staying silent, mouth open and instantly pumping out groans and moans, shaky hands keeping my hips still and desperately trying to stop himself from immediately mindlessly driving into the divine pleasure that was the feeling of being enveloped by my wet tight walls.

I whimpered and squirmed underneath him, grabbing onto him. I wasn’t even fully aware of myself, body and mind consumed by the heavenly feeling of being filled by him.

“Please!” I whined out loud, desperately needing him to finally start doing something, like there was an itch deep inside of me that needed scratching, “Please, give me more!”

Taehyung chuckled above me, trying to stay suave and smooth but I could hear how breathless he was, could feel his hands tightening and loosening on my hips. His hips trembled against mine, jumping with excitement at my words.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid back in, making us both sigh with content. He kept the pace slow and deep, covering me with his body and claiming my mouth with his while I fell apart on his well-aimed pace. I moaned on every stroke, arching my hips and spreading my thighs to let him hit deeper, pull him in closer.

The slow build up of the pleasure had me losing my mind. I felt like I was getting gradually submerged into boiling water, the heat steadily rising with every thrust filling me with deep primal satisfaction. My hands roamed over Taehyung’s body, appreciating his smooth skin and muscles as they jumped with movement, soaking up Taehyung’s little hick-uped groans when I passed over sensitive areas.

Taehyung changed the angle a little bit and when he pressed all the way inside, his tip pressed into a spot that had me keening loudly underneath him, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open. My hands instinctively grabbed onto his waist and squeezed, nails digging into his skin, and Taehyung groaned loudly, hips jerking into me roughly, punching out a whiny moan out of me.

That seemed to break us into a frenzy, my hands sliding down his body and grabbing onto his ass, pushing him into me and encouraging his movements. Taehyung happily took the sign and started thrusting faster and harder, filling the room with sounds of our moans and the wet slapping of our hips. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of my mouth, his every stroke hitting deep inside me and lighting my every nerve on fire, stoking the lust and the bliss in pulsing consuming waves.

I felt myself getting close to the peak I was so familiar with from his hands, the sensations drowning me and washing over me in over-powering waves. Taehyung’s moans were reaching crescendo, getting higher and whinier as his hips unfalteringly pounded into me.

“So close, darling,” he croaked with a raspy voice, “going to paint you with my seed, going to fill you to the brim.” I moaned in response, pussy throbbing and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper. I needed us both to peak, I needed it more than air to feel him unwind and release, get consumed with pleasure I provided him with.

“God, just a little more,” I answered to him breathlessly on a pleasured sigh. My hands squeezed his bottom and pushed him a little rougher. His breath hitched, but he changed his pace accordingly, slowing down but snapping his hips into me harder and rougher, making me wail with pleasure.

I felt myself spiralling into the heat, knowing I wouldn’t last too long like this. Above me Taehyung watched me through half-lidded eyes, mouth open and face consumed with raw lust at my blissed-out state. I caught his eyes just seconds before my whole body spasmed and then stilled, climax exploding over me with force that shocked a raspy scream out of me. I blanked out, trembling and overflowing with bliss and ecstasy, legs spasming and toes curling with the sensation of the fire consuming me inside out. It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt, the most intense thing my body has ever gone through, but I loved every second of it. It felt as if all the stress just drained away from my body and was replaced by molten gold.

Taehyung fucked me through the orgasm, and it took him only a few more thrusts before his hips jerked wildly, pleasure mounting until he released deep inside of me with his head thrown back and a long drawn-out moan. I felt his cock throb and pulse inside of me as it spurted his seed, his hips lightly swaying in circles to ride it out, until the boneless weightless feeling set in and he collapsed on top of me.

I was feeling so content, body pleasantly light and thrumming with aftershocks of our shared moment, eyelids heavy with sleep. I felt Taehyung slip out and move away from me, his release running down my legs and making me blush again, but I didn’t have any strength to move or wipe it away, so I just laid there and waited for the man. He returned with a piece of cloth, still just as naked, shooting me a little playful wink when he saw me looking at his body. I turned around, embarrassed, even though we had just enjoyed each other like husband and wife.

I heard his little chuckle, but then the cloth suddenly pressed onto my thighs, making me gasp quietly. Taehyung squeezed my leg in apology and continued cleaning me up. I couldn’t help the little sighs of content leaving me, the warm cloth and his gentle touches filling my heart with love.

When he was done, he threw the piece of cloth away carelessly, before jumping onto the bedding and snuggling up to me. We ended up like we always have, Taehyung holding me from behind, hands pulling me as close to him as I could go, lips and nose pressing into the crook of my neck and into my hair, trilling happily.

I let it gently lull me to sleep, melting into his loving embrace, listening to his content purrs, our bodies moulding perfectly together like it was always meant to happen. I closed my eyes, and welcomed sleep, feeling the most comfortable I’ve been in years.

I couldn’t remember what I was thinking right before I slipped under, but I did with the feeling of just everything being right.

I would be okay. We would be okay.

hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3

A/N: the story of prince cheoyong, the son of the dragon king who neglected his wife to which a demon of pestilence took a liking and sneaked into her bed - one day cheoyong returned home and saw four feet sticking out of the bed instead of two, and he chased out the demon with singing and dancing, saving his wife and becoming a guardian god - it was said that no demon or evil spirit could enter a house as long as there was a likeness of cheoyong there, so people bought his portraits or talismans with his face and put them on their door, but i kind of switched the sides hehe

[naeviskz]

genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship

words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread

this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…�� he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”

“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (18) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you say the words coriolanus is so desperate to hear. 

word count: 1,785

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, skinny dipping, fluff, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Do you know how to swim?” Coryo asked, settling behind you, pressing a kiss to your neck as you rifled through the wardrobe to find something to wear for the day. Ordinarily, your lady’s maid was to help you pick out your outfits and help you into them, but you found that you liked including your husband—your husband—in the process instead. 

“Yes.”

You could feel the smile on Coryo’s lips as he kissed your neck again. “Good. There’s a lake on the property that I’d like to take you to. Swim, have a picnic—” he nips at your neck “—perhaps have a little more fun.”

A giggle escaped you. “That sounds lovely. But what would you have said if I didn’t?”

“Offer to let you cling to me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do that anyways.” You moved your head, exposing more of your neck to him. “But I didn’t have any swimming clothes packed.”

Your knees nearly buckled as Coryo sucked on a sensitive spot just below your ear. “That’s where the little more fun comes in, my pretty petal.”

“My, my, I didn’t know my husband was so insatiable.”

“How could I be satiated when you’re so addicting? For every piece of you, you offer, I find myself wanting more.” Coryo pulled away then reached around you, pulling a pale pink dress out. “Put this on while I ask the staff to prepare lunch for us.”

“Hurry back,” you said, turning around so you could face him, “I might surely die if I’m deprived of my husband.”

Coryo grinned. “Now who’s insatiable?”

You giggled, watching as Coryo leaned down for a kiss before disappearing out the door. Once he was gone, you began to dress for the day. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as you thought about your husband. Your husband. You never would have thought that the word would have you blushing like a schoolgirl—certainly not when that very husband was Coriolanus Snow. And yet, here you were, twirling around in a pretty pink dress, giggling at the thought of seeing Coryo in a compromising position while swimming. 

A grin stretched across your face as you heard the door opening, Coryo stepping inside. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically hear the pout on his face as he said, “Damn. I was hoping to catch you undressed.”

“Then we never would make it to the lake,” you said. 

“And, oh, what a shame would that be.”

You held your Coryo’s hand as you walked down the dirt path to the lake. Your dress dragged the ground, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pick up the skirts. If only your mother could see you now—she would surely have a heart attack if she knew you were about to be positively ravished anywhere but a bedroom. Stifling a giggle, you glanced at Coryo from the corner of your eye. He was already looking down at you, a soft smile on his plush lips. You moved up to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“How did you manage to convince the Peacekeepers to let us come alone?” you asked when you pulled away. 

You had been surprised when Coryo led you out of the cottage, holding onto you with one hand, a picnic basket in the other. No one followed after the two of you like they normally did. When you had sent Coryo a questioning look, he kissed your temple and ushered you along. 

“I told them I would sooner carve out their eyes than allow them to see me fuck their Queen.”

“Coryo!” you chastised, hand smacking his chest. “You can’t say things like that!”

“And why not?” His smile turned into a smirk as he bumped his hip against yours. “Everyone knows what happens during the honeymoon period. Is it a crime to say it aloud?”

You leaned your head against his arm. “I just don’t want anyone but you to think of me like that.”

“Oh, petal,” Coryo cooed. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t say things like that again. Being with you robs me of any sense of propriety. All I want is for people to know that I’m the lucky man who gets to warm your bed, who makes you smile and laugh, who is fortunate enough to be called your husband.”

Laughing, you said, “You can wax poetic to whoever you want. Just leave our more intimate moments between us.”

“Deal.”

The lake soon came into view. It was beautiful. Something straight out of a fairytale. The water sparkled under the sun’s rays. And the water—oh, it was so blue. You would almost think it was artificial if it didn’t look like it had been untouched by humans for decades. As you neared the lake, Coryo dropped the picnic basket to the ground and led you out onto the dock. 

A giggle escaped you as he quickly removed his clothes before reaching for you, undoing the ties on your dress. As it slipped off your shoulders, down your hips, a growl rumbled from Coryo’s chest. “You wore nothing else?”

“What? I can’t seduce my husband on our honeymoon?”

His hands came to rest on your hips, tugging you against him. You giggled again and placed your hands on his chest. “Say thank you for me not allowing the Peacekeepers to come.”

You stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed him. When you pulled away, you whispered on his lips, “Thank you, Coryo.”

“Now, for your punishment—”

“Wait, what—”

Coryo picked you up as if you were a doll, took you to the edge of the dock, and tossed you into the lake. You screamed as you hit the water. Another splash quickly followed. Coryo emerged beside you. His eyes crinkled at the corners. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other tangling itself in your hair. He pulled you in for a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned and moved your legs to wrap around his hips. His hand on your waist fell to your hip to help support you. 

“Fuck, petal—” he groaned. 

“Would you?”

And, oh, he would. 

Coryo reached into the picnic basket, pulling out a container of strawberries. He took care with selecting one before placing it at your lips, looking down at you as you took a bite. Your back was pressed against his chest, still bare after the swim, and hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste. Tilting your head up, you watched as he finished off the strawberry. You turned slightly and leaned up to steal a kiss. 

“Little minx,” he chastised. He, nevertheless, was quick to chase after you for another kiss. 

“How am I the minx when you’re the one who suggested this entire little escapade?”

“Because you went along with it, little petal,” Coryo said. 

You laughed and shook your head at him. Of course that would be his logic. Never mind that this was his entire grand plan, that you only went along for the ride. But, if that was going to be his argument, you supposed you should give him something to support the rhetoric. You turned around to face him, settling on your knees. You bit down on your lip as Coryo’s eyes drifted down to your bare chest. “I do believe you promised me more fun, did you not?” you asked, grabbing his hands and pulling them to your waist. 

“I did.”

“And what kind of husband would you be to break such promises?”

“A horrible one,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him. You swung a leg over either side of his lap, your hips settling against his. He hardened against your thigh. “You should send me straight to the gallows if I ever dared to deny you.”

“Let’s not let it come to that.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed. He reached between the two of you, guiding his cock through your slick folds. Your head fell against his. A gasp escaped you as you sunk down on him. You had only taken him in this position a few times before—it still took you by surprise, how much bigger he felt like this. Your nails dug into his shoulder as Coryo groaned out, “Fuck, petal, keep squeezing me like that and I’ll serve you Panem on a silver platter.”

You kissed him, desperate for more of him. “You’ve already given me everything I could ever want.”

Coryo’s fingers dug into your hips as he guided you up and down his length. You were grateful for it, your legs already trembling from the mounting pleasure. Sensing your exhaustion, Coryo pulled you against his chest, cradling you as he rolled you onto your back. Your back arched off the picnic blanket. Oh, how was this so much more pleasurable now? 

“Coryo—” you gasped. 

A hand fell between your legs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hand caught his wrist, holding him there as he thrust into you. The coil deep in your belly began to tighten, so close to snapping. 

“Go ahead, my petal, come for your King,” he cooed. He draped his body against you, his nose nudging against yours. “Come for your husband. Come for your Coryo.”

You screamed as the coil finally snapped. Coryo pulled his hand out from between your legs, cupped your face, and pulled you into a searing kiss. His hips continued to rut into you as he chased his high. It was one of the few moments where you got to see your husband truly desperate, and all of it for you. His hips stuttered as he finally toppled over the edge, still fucking his spend into you. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“And I love you.”

You felt him smile. But then he pulled away, his brows pinched together. Coryo brushed some stray strands of hair from your face, his pale blue eyes searching yours. Looking for any doubts, any hints of insincerity. You just smiled up at him, and said those words again. “You mean it?” he asked. 

“More than anything.”

A smile broke out, his white teeth twinkling. “Say it again.”

You only laughed. “Give me a reason to,” you challenged.

He did. He gave you many, many reasons. And when the two of you eventually made it back to the cottage, a right mess compared to the regal King and Queen you would have to act like in front of the Capitol, you showed him just how much you loved him in return. 

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

[throughthetwistedmirror]

Overblot Reaction ~ You Have a Nightmare About Their Overblot

Summary: You have a nightmare about another Overblot. How do they react to that?

Pairing: Overblot!Twisted Wonderland X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Reaction

Word Count: 2057

Warning: Fear, terror, overblots

Masterlist

A/N: I hope I did them justice!

Riddle Rosehearts:

“RIDDLE!”

Said housewarden jolted awake at your scream. Stumbling out of bed, he made his way to the guest room where you were staying, as it was much too cold for you to be staying in Ramshackle. He saw you sitting up in bed, your hand clutching your chest as you tried to regain control of your breathing. As soon as you spotted him, you bit your lip and looked away.

“I’m sorry Riddle. I didn’t mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep now.” You murmured.

He shook himself slightly, trying not to appear ruffled. “Are you alright? You sounded as if you were in distress. Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine, really. Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

“A bad dream? What was it about?”

“Don’t worry Riddle. It was nothing.” You tried to assure him. “Please, go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

He frowned before asking if he could sit on the bed with you. When you agreed, he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if trying to find the right thing to say, before finally saying, “I don’t know what your nightmare was about, and I don’t want to overstep your boundaries and pry. But if you need anything, anything at all, I hope you know that you can come to me. I want to be there for you when you need me most.”

Your heart ached at his words and, despite your better judgment, you hugged him. He was stiff as a board at first but eventually melted into the hug. Tears welled in your eyes and you knew you had to tell him. It was no use keeping him in the dark about it.

“I dreamed you overblotted again. It scared me so much because it felt like you weren’t going to change back. I don’t want to lose you again, Riddle.”

He froze again and you couldn’t help but wince slightly. He pulled away only to look you in the eyes and use his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “Hey, it’s okay. That would be really scary and I’m so, so, so sorry for putting you through all of that. You didn’t deserve to go through it once and you don’t deserve to go through it again. I promise you I will try my hardest to never overblot again.”

Pulling him into a hug, you buried your head into his shoulder. “As long as you try, that’s all that matters to me. You mean too much to me. I don’t want you to suffer like that ever again.”

He held you tighter. “I promise to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I love you.”

Riddle flinched before melting. “I love you too.”

Leona Kingscholar:

A sharp gasp and a shifting of weight caused Leona to crack one of his eyes open. “Herbivore, quit moving around. I’m trying to sleep.”

“S-sorry.” Your voice wavered slightly. “Just go back to sleep. I-I’ll be right back.”

Before you could get off of him, he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I can practically smell the anxiety rolling off of you. What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing.”

“You’ll just think I’m being silly.”

“Spit it out already.”

“I just had a nightmare, that’s all.” You turned away from him and he could tell it was serious. If you were being silly, you wouldn’t be avoiding eye contact. Gently, he took your chin in his hand and turned so you were facing him, giving you an unimpressed look.

“About what?”

You shook your head. “No-”

“If you say nothing again, I’ll find another way to get it out of you.”

Sighing, you said, “If only to save myself from your torture later, I had a nightmare that you overblotted again. I know, it’s silly, but it felt so real and I was so scared…”

As you trailed off he sighed. Pressing the back of your head so you were laying on his shoulder again, he muttered. “It won’t happen again. You know how I know that? It’s because I have you now. That’s how I know.”

You were glad you were on his shoulder so he couldn’t see your blush. “I’m glad I have you too.”

“Now go back to sleep already.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

It was just a nightmare. A bad dream. It wasn’t real.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But the truth is, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. It felt so real. No matter what you did, you could still see it, hear it, feel it. You didn’t know what to do. All you knew was you had to at least try to make it through the day.

Arriving at Mostro Lounge, you tried to suppress a yawn. With that vivid nightmare, you didn’t sleep much last night. But you didn’t want Azul to know about that. You didn’t want to worry him. Besides, you were just a little tired. It wasn’t worth worrying over in the first place.

“Koebi-chan! Look at you! You look like a wreck!”

Of course, just because you could probably fake it in front of Azul, didn’t mean you could fake it for the Tweels. The Leech brothers appeared on either side of you. Floyd had his signature smirk, though Jade looked ever so slightly worried. He gently pressed a gloved hand to your forehead.

“Are you sick? Is that why you don’t look well?”

“Who’s not well?”

You wanted to groan but you were too tired to try to act like nothing was wrong in front of Azul anymore. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

He shook his head. “You look more than a little tired. Here, you can rest in the VIP room. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you while you’re here.”

As Azul took your hand, you allowed him to lead you to the VIP room, where he set you up with some pillows and blankets. He nodded at the cocoon he had wrapped you in, providing you with optimal warmth and comfort. With pink cheeks, he brushed some hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet dreams. I’ll wake you up in an hour or so, alright?”

You nodded and closed your eyes, sleep rushing to claim you. However before you could drift on and he could attend his duties at the Lounge, you grabbed his hand. In a voice thick with sleep you said, “Promise me you won’t ever overblot again. I don’t think I could handle it if I lost you again. You mean far too much to me to watch you torture yourself like that again. Promise me that you love me just as much as I love you and you won’t ever let your doubts get in the way of that.”

Though you couldn’t see it, Azul was shocked. One, because you said all of that right before falling asleep. Two, because you did care for him just as much as he cared for you. He’s always loved you but was too afraid of saying anything. Now he knew you loved him. Now he knew what to do.

Kissing your forehead once more, he whispered. “I promise. I love you too, my heart.”

Jamil Viper:

You should have known better. You should’ve known how hyper aware he was. For Seven’s sake, he has been Kalim’s servant all his life! Yet that didn’t stop you from sneaking to his room in the middle of the night, just to make sure he was all safe and sound.

When you confirmed he was in bed, looking completely normal, you let out a soft sigh. It was just a nightmare. That’s all it was. And it wasn’t true. Now you could go back to sleep.

“Are you going to stand in my doorway all night or are you going to tell me what you’re doing up this late at night?” He called out to you. 

You felt your cheeks warm and you rubbed the back of your neck, “I just needed to walk around a bit, that’s all. I thought it would make me feel sleepy.”

Jamil sat up and rubbed one of his eyes as he frowned. “You’re a very bad liar. Tell me what’s wrong or go back to sleep, alright?”

“But I’m not lying!” You countered. “I just had a bad dream, that's all. And it woke me up, so I’m walking around so I feel tired again. So you see? I’m not lying.”

“Hmmm.” He looked you up down, as if judging to see if your story measured up. 

You felt nervous and you didn’t know why. You wondered if it had anything to do with your nightmare. You shook your head. No, that was ridiculous and insulting. Jamil wouldn’t overblot just because you accidentally woke him up. He is too level-headed for that.

However, what he did next surprised you. Moving over, Jamil patted the empty space. “C’mon. Maybe this will help you fall asleep.”

Unable to argue, you crawled into bed next to him. As he pulled you close, he whispered, “I’m not going to ask what the nightmare was about. Just know that it’s over and it’s never going to come true. If you still think about it, just squeeze. I’ll protect you from harm.”

Your heart melted at his words. You decided to snuggle up close, causing him to chuckle. “Thank you Jamil.”

“Of course, diamond.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil knew something was open when you arrived at a photoshoot late and yawned. As soon as you sat in the hair and makeup chair, he started lecturing you about better sleeping habits. He was even more concerned when you didn’t try and fight back or say a word. You looked like a zombie, staring straight ahead and barely acknowledging what he was saying.

Something happened last night.

Before Vil could ask about it, the two of you were called to set. He tried to put on a show like he always did, but he was anxious. He tried his best not to let it show, but he kept shooting worried glances your way. But you didn’t seem to notice. It was really starting to freak him out.

Eventually, there was a five minute break and he whisked you to the green room. Sitting you down on one of the couches, he staged a small intervention.

“What’s with you today? You’re hardly paying attention and you seem more dead than alive. What happened to-”

Before Vil could continue, you burst into tears. He was caught off guard momentarily. Then he sat down and patted your back. “Please, potato, tell me what’s troubling you. I hate seeing you cry like this. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

“I had a very scary nightmare last night.” You explained. “You overblotted and I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry, but I was so frightened I couldn’t sleep at all last night. And then you were so upset with me for not sleeping and now you’re upset that I’m ruining your photoshoot. Please don’t overblot! I don’t know if I can save you again!”

Your answer shocked him to the core. He didn’t know you cared about him like this, or that you worried so much that you were losing sleep over him. He was touched, but he didn’t have time to be grateful for your sentiment. He needed to stop these waterworks before your makeup smeared too bad.

“Oh, my sweet potato!” He cried. “I’m never going to overblot again! These have just been minor inconveniences today, that’s all. I’m more worried about you than the photoshoot. I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, that’s all. Please don’t cry, potato.”

Eventually, you stopped crying and he pulled you into a hug, trying not to think about how his suit was probably being wrinkled and ruined. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He assured you. “Do you think we can keep going today?”

Pulling away, you nodded, sniffed, and wiped your nose. “Yeah, I can keep going.”

Vil gave you a tender smile and patted your cheek. “Excellent. Now let’s fix your hair and makeup, shall we?”

[lilacsbeeswax]

For regulus x potter reader maybe write something about how regulus shows up to the potters in the middle of the night like how Sirius did and he only asks for the reader bc he’s very upset but they didn’t want to make their relationship public so James is like wtf

Name: Safety

Pairing: Regulus Black x Fem!Potter!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: secret relationship, language, written during 3 separate 12 am writing sessions, kinda bad ending, possible inaccuracy, Regulus and Sirius’ parents :(, crying, use of Y/n, running away

Notes: I love the requests you sent in they are both beautiful and make me want to burst into tears right on spot. I hope you enjoy! 💕

“Alright kiddos,” My dad groans as he gets up from his spot on the couch, “I’m gonna go to bed. You can stay up a bit longer but, please, don’t cause harm to anything, okay?”

“Yeah, James, no more fires,” I quip, jokingly scowling at my older brother.

“That was one time!” James cries, obviously offended.

“I’m talking to you too, Y/n Potter, you both bring chaos into this house and I’m not looking to put out another fire at 3 in the morning,” Dad replies as he exits the room.

I turn to James and then look towards the pile of board and card games that we’ve collected over the years, “Uno?” I ask.

“Obviously,” He answers with a smirk.

---

“Oh! You bitch!” James yells as I set down a wild draw four, forcing him to add 4 more cards to his 18 others.

knock... knock... knock... A rap sounds from the front door making both of our heads turn, who could be here at this time of night?

“I’ll get it,” James sighs as he stands up. “Grab your wand in case it’s a murderer and I need backup.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, but grab my wand from the side table nonetheless. These days you never know who could be lurking around the corner.

In the entryway, the front door creaks, and I hear James exclaim with a strange amount of abhorrence in his tone, “What are you doing here?”

The voice that follows makes me stand up and I have to physically restrain myself from running straight toward it. I, instead, creep to the door overhearing every strained word, “I just need to see Y/n. I have to see her, please.”

I turn the corner to see Regulus Black standing on the covered porch with tear-stained cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He looks at me and his eyes light up, like a child receiving candy. He steps forward but stops himself from going any further obviously contemplating whether or not he should step in.

“Regulus? Are you okay?” I ask, rushing over to him and grabbing his face with both hands, searching for any sign of harm. He sets his hand onto one of my own and leans his forehead against mine. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, seemingly relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I just can’t do this without you,” He says as his voice quivers.

“It’s alright, lovey,” I reply, moving the hand he isn’t holding to run my fingers through his curls. “You can always come to me and I will be there, I promise.”

I lean in and kiss his lips savoring every second of the closeness. When we separate, I move to pull him into a long hug, his body is tense but melts into mine. It may be cliche but it feels like it’s only the two of us at this moment, unfortunately, it is not. James clears his throat and inquires, “What the fuck is happening?”

I separate from Regulus and step in front of him watching James shut the front door and walk back to the living room. We follow and observe him as he drops himself onto the couch and runs a hand over his face. James utters, “Well, are either of you going to explain, or do I just have to assume?”

“Well,” I begin, nervous for James’s reaction, “Regulus and I have been- well… dating for the past year or so.”

James opens his mouth as I try to speak but immediately closes it again, he repeats the cycle until he states, “Okay. Why are you here then, Black?”

“I, uh, it got really bad at Grimmauld Place earlier,” Regulus replies, looking down towards his feet. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Where’s Sirius?” James asks quickly, more worried about his best friend than anyone else.

“I don’t know, he didn’t come home last night, he only left behind a note that said, ‘later bitches’. They didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t know where he went,” Regulus answers grimly, I grab his hand when I notice his eyes start watering.

“Alright, don’t think we’re done talking about this, because we’re not, but I’m gonna go look for Sirius. Get him some tea or something and don’t be gross, I’ll be back soon,” James sighs and runs to the fireplace. Regulus and I observe as he grabs a handful of Floo powder and steps in. He slams the powder down and exclaims an address then immediately disappears leaving behind only ash and green flames.

I sit down on the couch with Regulus and bring him into a big bear hug, knowing he didn’t like initiating affection but needed some for the moment. He buries his face into my neck and breathes in deeply. I feel hot tears slowly drip onto my skin but I do nothing but move a hand up to his curls.

“Thank you for being here,” Regulus mumbles.

I respond, “I will always be here, my love for you is eternal.”

He leans back looking me in the eyes, “I will forever love you, Y/n. You are the stars in my galaxy.” I look into his red-rimmed, glossy eyes smiling at him. He chuckles, “If he wasn’t so worried about Sirius, James would be kicking my ass right about now.”

“I hope that he would keep the ass-kicking to a minimum,” I laugh, knowing the worst James would do is ignore me for a few hours until giving up because he got bored. “Besides I’d save you from him.”

“Would you now?” He entertains, life coming back to his features as we talk.

“Of course, I love you too much to let you be ended by, James, of all people.”

“Merlin, what are we going to do?” Regulus groans, “By the time they get here Sirius and James will have decided whether they will speak to us ever again.”

“We will do what we’ve been doing this entire time, this is none of their business,” I quip, “Besides, you’re staying here from now on whether they like it or not.”

“Really?” He questions, “Can I?”

“Of course, I’ll talk to my mom and we’ll sort it out. You will never have to go back there again,” I reply, strength filling my words.

I don’t ask what happened that night, but based on the past I can infer what he’s been through. If I can help it, I will never Regulus go through that again.

I never did.

[calummss]

1920s LOVE | KLAUS MIKAELSON

masterlist : part 2

summary: your cousins, the salvatore brothers, tell you to go straight home after school. an evil vampire has come to town and it’s too dangerous; so what happens when the original vampire appears in your house unannounced

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 1.9k

a/n: my first tvd imagine for literally the man i love the most. this fic has similarities to @frost-queen ‘s work as i requested the imagine to her before i started writing but i wanted to write it myself. so before you come at me she already knows as i asked her first!! :)

‘After that we miss our chance to make memories.’ You chimed with Bonnie and Elena, all of you smiling as the cool breeze filtered through your hair.

‘Caroline, I’m not that type of person and you know that!’ A giggle escaped your lips, your hands reaching for hers. ‘Besides, I promised Stefan that I’d go straight home after school.’

‘What even is he to you?’ Caroline pulled her most Caroline face ever.

‘Well he feels like my cousin, but technically he’s probably my great x1000 cousin or something. All I know is that I’m a Salvatore and that connects us.’

Caroline pondered for a moment, letting go of your hands and bracing herself. ‘Fine.’

You let out a breath.

‘But,’

You sighed.

‘You have to actually show up to the dance and not just for five minutes before disappearing with Jeremy to never be seen again.’

‘Fine.’ You threw your hands up in the air and walked away from the group. ‘I can’t wait Caroline! I’m going to have so much fun.’ You made fun of yourself, earning chuckles from the girls before they parted ways too.

Stefan, even though your cousin from hundreds of generations ago, acted like your big brother despite being your age (one could argue about that). Stefan and Damon felt more like brothers and that’s what you always referred to them as. Since you started living at the Boarding house and got told the type of lifestyle the brothers lived, they always made sure you were safe. You were truly grateful for that. Having someone actually care about your well-being and not just yell at you to bring food to the table even though you were only nine years old…it was family. But Stefan and Damon could be pushy when it did come to your safety. Especially since that really old vampire came to town and terrorised Mystic Falls’ supernatural citizens. Since you were a human; a human that knew of vampires and was friends with them so they didn’t want to take any chances. So like any other girl with overprotective brothers, you had no other choice but to go home.

You took your time walking back. The sounds of leaves rustling on the pavement. Red-orangey leaves tumbling across the cement. Whistling of the winds as it bolted through the trees.

You felt at peace. Peace you had longed for for a long time.

Arriving at the enormous house , you unlocked the door and threw your school bag next to the shoe rack, slumping your way down the hall, but someone caught your eye.

‘And you are?’ You asked the man whose eyes were glued onto you as you walked down the steps that led to the living room.

‘You don’t know me, love?’ The stranger cocked his head with a sneaky grin on his face.

‘No, otherwise I wouldn’t ask, dumbass.’

The man chuckled, slowly standing up and stepping forwards, ‘I’m Klaus Mikaelson, I think you might’ve heard of me.’

‘That scary old hybrid?’ You gasped, mouth wide open with a weird expression of positive surprise; but you weren't afraid.

‘In the flesh.’ He lifted his arms to his side, palms facing upwards like he stood in front of a civilisation that ought him to be a god.

‘No offence but I thought Klaus was some creepy old man…you're surprisingly hot.’ You confessed, ignoring the fact that you never spoke so directly to a stranger. ‘Well, I don’t know why you're here and I don’t think I care. I made food before I went to school so it should be done by now, do you want some?’ You walked past him, mumbling quietly, knowing he could hear you, and entered the kitchen where your tart from this morning stood.

‘How do I know that you won’t kill me?’ Klaus replied.

‘Well first, I actually don’t know how to kill you,’ you lifted your thumb and started to count the reasons. ‘I would be extremely dumb to even try and I really just want to know if my food tastes good.’

‘So not all the Salvatores are as dumb as the brothers.’ He relaxed his weight into one of the kitchen stools and eyed you up and down, scanning for something.

‘Is that a compliment or are you badmouthing me with mirroring words?’

‘I take that back.’

‘Arsehole.’ You scoffed and walked around the kitchen aisle to grab a plate from one of the cupboards.

‘So what exactly am I looking at,’ Klaus eyes the ceramic pan that you had set out on the island moments before, ‘it looks nice.’

‘It’s a strawberry tart with a layer of condensed whipped cream and a layer of red bean,’ you started to plate the first portion, ‘and before you start with ‘Red bean? oh my god that’s sooooo weird’, it’s a sweet type. Very popular in east Asia. It’s really good.’ You smiled at him and pushed a fork towards him. ‘I could never make something not tasty because I’m a good chef.’

Klaus chuckled, the corner of his mouth turning into a slight smile, yet his eyes were just as cold. Grabbing the fork you had placed before him, he took a piece with equal amounts of ingredients and placed it in his mouth.

You eyed him for a long second. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t doing anything. Klaus’ face was blank as the test sheet you had given Mr. Saltzman this morning in first period.

‘So?,’ your eyes still on his face, ‘is it good?’ you leaned in closer, eyes narrowing with a smile. You clicked with your tongue, index finger pointing at the so-called monster in joy, ‘Of course it is!’

Instead of answering your question, Klaus simply took another hit confirming the good taste.

‘I knew it!’ You drummed against the kitchen aisle, ‘Miss Salvatore could never fuck up a dish.’ Amused, you finally gave yourself a piece and enjoyed your tart. ‘So,’ you covered your mouth with your hand, ‘you’re a 1000 year old vampire that everyone’s scared of…why?’

‘I guess it’s because I’m an Original,’ he leaned forward, close enough to smell your scent, ‘Can I have another?’ He eyed the pan.

You nodded.

‘An original vampire,’ you nodded your head cooly. ‘That’s cool. But what brings you here? I doubt you’re vacationing in Mystic Falls. Anyone willing to do that must be boring and have no expectations,’

Klaus snickered in response, his intimidating yet charming eyes felt like they were pushing past your eyes. ‘I need something.’ He confessed.

‘What?’

‘Can’t tell you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll tell your brothers.’ He ate the last piece of tart on his plate and leaned against the counter.

‘They’re more like my cousins,’ you grabbed his plate and set it in the skink, starting to clear things away. ‘Million times removed.’

‘You’re human?’ His tone changed but you couldn’t quite make it out. Did you suddenly fall into his power-play-game?

You hummed in response, turning back to him and sitting down on one of the barstools.

‘Do you like it?’ He asked, some sort of genuineness coating his words.

You hesitated for a second. No one had ever asked you before if you preferred the life you were living. Not even Damon asked you and he was the first to be in favour of turning humans for fun.

‘Sometimes I guess, but the thrill of wanting to be a vampire is overbearing at times.’ You took a sip of water, ‘Stefan and Damon said they’d only ever turn me if there was no other option.’ You took a long pause. ’I feel vulnerable as a human and a spark of confidence couldn’t hurt me, right?’

Klaus turned his head forward, chuckling. ‘I think you already have that spark of confidence you’re talking about, love.’

‘Can I ask you a question? Technically it’s two but,’

‘Go ahead, darling.’

Darling—…Stop.

‘Since you’re a thousand years old,’ you turned your body to him, ‘what’s your favourite decade or era you lived in? Like the Victorian era, Tudor age, all that…what’s your most favourite?’

Klaus lingered a smile, seeming almost smitten with your curiosity and sensing a passion for the past.

‘Maybe the 1920s,’ Klaus said, your eyes instantly lighting up. ‘The music, the people, the aura…it was a great time.’

‘I’m jealous,’ your face fell to a pout, swinging the last drop of water down your throat and reaching for the jug to refill your glass. ‘I wish I experienced the twenties,’

‘I think you would’ve loved the 1920s London party scene.’

‘And do you miss it? The past, I mean. Or do you prefer the modern world? I mean certain aspects are obviously for the better but it must be lonely when everything and everyone you knew ceased to exist…I think I’d become lonely.’

‘I have my family.’

‘But humans,’ you cleared your throat, ‘Vampires,’ you corrected yourself. ‘Nonetheless need different people around them. Otherwise we’d go mad.’

‘I’m already mad.’

‘I heard.’ You let out a suppressed laugh. ‘Well anyway, there’s a 1920s decade dance next week and I don’t know if I’ll go. Apparently Mystic Falls is becoming dangerous for humans and I should only go out if completely necessary.’ Shrugging your shoulders, you got up from your chair when the front door suddenly opened and in a matter of seconds Stefan and Danon were standing in the kitchen.

Damon immediately seized your upper arm with force, pulling you closer to him. He scanned your face, then your torso, arms, legs, to see if Klaus had hurt you or compelled you but he didn’t find a single scratch.

‘What?’ Klaus finally stood up and eyes the brothers up and down. ‘You think I’d harm such excellent company?’

‘What did you do?’ Stefan chimed him defensively.

You broke from Damon’s grib and walked to the other side of the kitchen aisle so that you were now between the men. ‘He didn’t do anything. We ate cake and talked. That’s it.’

Stefan eyed you for a while, but he could tell you weren’t lying and there was no reason for you to cover for him so he accepted the scene in front of him.

‘We have what you want, Klaus,’ Damon hissed, ‘but not here. Leave her out of this.’

Klaus turned his head to look at you. ‘Fine,’ now facing back at Damon. ‘but don’t fuck me over again or I will make this living hell for you.’

Stefan pushed forward, ‘We’ll talk outside.’

Klaus followed Damon, Stefan behind him and turned around one last time leaving you a tad puzzled, ‘It was nice to meet you, love.’

‘You too.’

*1 week later*

Ding ding, Doorbell.

Ugh, you rolled off the couch and stomped towards the door.

‘Caroline I said I’m not going. I can’t be arsed and—oh my god.’ You swung the door open not to reveal the blonde girl that had been nagging at you all week.

Instead it was him. Klaus Mikaelson.

‘I— Ehm— What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Five

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Curse words (idk about you, but I swear like a sailer - so I apologize in advance bc it’ll be a recurring item)

Notes: The last half of this chapter was one of the first scenes I wrote when I played around with writing this series, these random snippets inspired this whole thing. I’m so glad everyone is enjoying my work!

Word Count: 1930

Series Masterlist

• March 4th, 2005 • Forks HS Cafeteria •

Reader

It’s raining outside again for the umpteenth time this week, forcing myself and my preferred Cullen sibling to sit apart at our respective tables inside as our usual table outside collects rain. I glance at the table the Cullen’s claimed and spot Jasper already watching me so I wave shyly. He returns it with a grin only to receive a shove from Emmett as he no doubt teases Jasper for the action.

“Hey - La Push baby, you and Y/n in?” Eric asks Bella as she drops her bag into the chair next to mine.

“Should I know what that means?” She questions back before I could voice the same inquiry.

“La Push Beach down at the Quileute Rez, we’re all going tomorrow.” Mike explains.

“Yeah, there’s a big swell coming in.” Jessica adds.

Eric pops up from his seat, splaying his hands out like he’s already riding a wave “And I don’t just surf the internet!”

“Eric, you stood up once and it was a foam board.” Jess teases him as Mike mirrors his goofy stance, earning a smack from Tyler at the goofy display.

“But there’s whale-watching too, come with us.” Angela prods us gently with her kind eyes.

“La Push baby, it’s La Push.” Eric tries to make the words sound cooler than they are and I can help but hide a chuckle behind my hands.

“Okay,” glancing at me before I give her a nod, “we’ll go if you stop saying that, okay?” Bella concedes before leaving our table to grab a school lunch, I catch Edward standing from his seat to follow her.

“Seriously dude, it’s creepy man.” Mike teases Eric. Their conversation fades into the background as I lean back and open my book while I munch on my carrots.

• March 5th, 2005 • La Push Beach, Quileute Reservation •

Reader

“I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.” Eric says worriedly as he, Mike, and Jessica finish pulling on their wetsuits.

“We drove all the way out here, I’m at least paddling out.” Jess tells the boys. She’s stronger than I am, because there isn’t any chance I’d subject myself to the freezing water willingly.

“So,” Angela starts, “I keep thinking that Eric’s going to ask me to the prom. And he just… doesn’t.”

“You should ask him, take control. You’re a strong, independent woman.” Bella affirms our friend.

“I am?” Angela responds, unsure.

“Yes.” Blunt and to the point, Bella nods at her.

“Absolutely Ang, he’s just a boy and he would be stupid to turn you down.” I add, confident Eric would be over the moon to go to prom with someone as smart and amazing as her.

“Hey, will you do me up?” Jessica asks me, spinning around in front of me where I lean against the open passenger door next to Angela’s perch on the seat.

“Of course.” I oblige her as she moves her hair to the side.

“Bella!” Turning towards the voice, three tall guys from the reservation walk towards our van.

“Hi, Jacob.” Bella greets the one leading the small group, “Guys, this is Jacob.” She tells us and he gives the rest of us a nod and a wave before sitting next to Bella in the open side door. “What are you, like, stalking me?” I hear Bella tease Jacob.

“You're on my rez, remember?” Jacob chuckles, “Are you surfing?”

“Definitely not.” It’s my turn to chuckle as I catch the scoff and completely serious look on her face.

“You guys should keep them company.” Jess encourages the new group of guys, “Um, Bella’s date bailed.”

“What date?!” Eric panics and pauses like a deer in headlights.

“She invited Edward.” Jessica answers, but Bella jumps to defend her crush.

“To be polite, that's it.”

“I was going to invite Jasper, but since Edward didn’t want to come…” I trail off awkwardly.

“I think it's nice they invited them, nobody ever does.” Trying to come to our rescue, Angela adds.

“Yeah, 'cause the Cullen's are freaks.” Mike’s jealousy showing clear.

“You got that right!” The slightly taller Quileute guy to my right agrees and I’m immediately annoyed.

“You guys know them?” Bella ignores their comments and tries to latch on to any spec of information she can. I also turn to the guys, curious about anything I might learn of the Cullen family.

“The Cullens don't come here.” The other one says ominously, silencing the group.

What an odd thing to say… I mean, is the family not allowed? Did something happen? I have so many questions, but I also know it’ll be incredibly awkward to press them for answers after only just meeting.

After munching on a Twizzler, Jacob stands and turns to my friend. “Wanna go walk the beach while your friends jump in the water?”

“Sure.” Bella rises and pauses in front of Angela and I, “you guys good?”

“Absolutely - yeah!” We nod and smile, both of us content to watch the surf and huddle under our blankets as everyone sets off for the shore.

Jumping in Bella’s truck once everyone’s had their fill of the freezing waves, I lean over and crank the heat dial while she starts the ancient vehicle.

Rubbing my thighs to warm my hands and legs, I ask, “So was that weird, or just me? The comments about the Cullen’s not coming to the Rez?”

“Definitely not just you, I asked Jake on our walk what they meant.” Coaxing the truck onto the road towards Forks, she continues. “He started talking about Quileute legends and old tales.”

“What does that have to do with the Cullen’s?” I press.

“He said they’re supposedly descendants from an enemy clan and they were found hunting on their land.” She glances at me before continuing, “So they made some kind of treaty I guess, to stay off their land and they wouldn’t expose them.”

“Expose them for what?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say.” She huffs, annoyed. “Do you-do you want to come over for a little bit? I was thinking about doing some research on this stuff.”

“Oh hell yes, count me in!” I turn to look out the window with a grin, I might be closer to actually getting answers now than if I were to solve this on my own.

The rest of the evening was spent huddled around Bella’s computer. We searched Quileute legends on google and ended up coming across tales of ‘Cold Ones’ intertwined in the tribe’s history. An odd sensation came over me when it described their qualities, almost like a foreboding feeling - but I shrugged it off. After a few more clicks, we found a book that could help dive more in-depth on the legends.

“There!” I point at the screen, seeing the availability of it at a store close to our location.

“One is in stock at Thunderbird & Whale Book Store in Port Angeles.” Bella reads as she pulls up a map, scribbling the address on a sticky note. “Wanna come with me after school Tuesday?” She turns to ask as I munch on some chips, taking a seat at the end of her bed.

“There’s no point in asking anymore, we’re in this together. I’m just as invested in finding out more about Jasper as you are about Edward.”

“Fair.” She cracks a sideways grin as she flops on her bed next to me.

• March 7th, 2005 • Forks HS •

Reader

Rushing through the clouded hallway before first period to avoid Tyler Crowley and his gaggle of friends, I spot Jasper loitering with his sister Rose near the end of the corridor. I practically ran in his direction-pushing him by the chest into a secluded alcove by the stairs, an apologetic wince of a smile thrown in Rosalie’s direction that was immediately met with understanding as her eyes located the entourage hot on my heels.

“Sorry,” I whisper to his shocked form, “if they find me, you give a very distinct ‘fuck off’ vibe they can’t ignore.”

His eyes were wide as he looked down at me - I think I rendered him speechless with my forward actions, commandeering his body for personal use against other boys. Come to think about it, what was I thinking? This is Jasper Hale, why would he-

“Glad to be of service. Even though this might be a little bit of a strange request.” He whispered right back, the space small enough that he didn’t need to talk too loud over the din of the hallway and with how close we were standing - there wasn’t much space between us.

God, what the fuck am I doing?

Without even thinking, I lean my head forward to settle on the center of his chest, closing my eyes in embarrassment, arms clutching my notebooks to my chest. Before I could think about what I just initiated, one of his large hands came to settle on my back, immediately soothing the worries that began to swim that I was being too forward.

“Are you alright?” He murmured into my hair.

“That’s a loaded question.” I mumbled into his shirt, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter. How could he read me so well?

The longer we stood here, the more I began to realize his chest wasn’t moving. Is he holding his breath? Oh shit, do I-

“Oh, uhh, my bad! I-I’ll see you around Y/n.” I heard Tyler stutter, I turned my head to see him glancing between Jasper and I. Perfection, my plan a success as the gaggle of boys turned tail and hurried away.

I glance upwards to Jasper’s stoic face, “Thank you for your flawless execution.” Complimenting his quick compliance in my hasty plan before running off to my next class of the day.

“Anytime, doll.” He replied with that southern accent and signature half-smirk.

Damn him for being so attractive and for using that nickname.

Jasper

I remained standing here a few more moments, not entirely sure what just transpired between Y/n and I. Her scent lingering in this alcove she accosted me into, lavender and fresh linen invaded my senses as those all-too-familiar flames of devastating hunger take up residence in my throat again.

I know I’ll hear it about this little stunt the moment I’m home this afternoon, Rosalie no doubt currently informing Emmett and Alice of what transpired.

I exhaled a sigh and let my head thump against the wall behind me, eyes slipping closed. I swear I can still feel her forehead pressed against my chest. I forced myself to stop breathing then in the moment, the desire for unsavory things it caused to swirl in my chest needed to be suffocated. I could feel the tension emanating from her then and I had to stamp that out if I ever hoped she’d continue to be comfortable with me, my own bloodthirsty desire be damned. I could still feel the warmth from where her body touched mine.

This gorgeous human girl has me wrapped around her tiny little finger and I’m not even sure she’d give me the time of day.

Once I manage to peel myself away from the wall, Alice rushes up to me with worry saturating her emotions.

“I’ve been looking for you! We need to leave, the sun will be out by lunch.” She tells me in a rush.

What I wouldn’t give to not have a life dictated by the weather. With a sigh, I follow my sister to the student parking lot.

Next

[nescaveckwriter]

Hey, lovely! 🥰

So I'll put the request here too to make it easier for you to answer: can I request a fic from you where Dean falls asleep on Y/N's shoulder when they're hanging out with her family like that dream I told you about 🥹 something sweet and fluffy, and maybe she'll later tease Dean, but just a little 😆🤭

Love you and thank you! 🤍☀️

❤️. Awww @k-slla 🐞... I really hope this is what you had in mind, Oh goodness 🤭 its such a cute request 🥰 and I love you too 💕... Also I'm going to tag @artyandink for my first post on the #Jensenathon and then @anyfandomgoesbingo for my fist square ('Game Night, will be in bold') 🤭🥰 hopefully y'all like this . 🥰🤭🐞

Warnings: I'm going to say 18+ only ya know just for precaution 😅 but honestly there's none, just fluffy and sweetness.

Words: 1015

A little fun !! 🤭❤️❤️

He's hand runs over his freckled face, it's been a rough couple of days, he's been struggling more to sleep, than in a while, everything weighing so heavily on his shoulders, so when I came running towards him, big smile plastered on my face, almost excitedly jumping up and down, like a two year old, "Dean! Babe?" His green eyes stare into mine, and I feel butterflies swirling around again, "Sweetheart? Don't you seem all excited!" 

Laughing "I am, it's been awhile since we had a fun time" giving him a Bambi-like glaze "so, my parents invited us to Game night, please can we go?" 

He couldn't keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his perfect plum lips, "That sounds like fun sweetheart"

 "Really?" I yelped.

He pulls me into one of those breath stopping hugs, tugging his head into the crook of my neck , the hot air of his breath tickling against my skin , while he whispers "your the only bit of light in this world you know that?" I just hugged him back, unsure how to reply, the emotion welling up in my eyes, so instead of saying a single word, I held him tight, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, just lightly running my fingers, in his hair. I'm not sure how long we held each other in that heartfelt embrace but without saying a single word, it spoke of love, trust, peace, maybe the only sense of peace we had in our lives.

Blasting the radio loudly, playing Dean's favourite Led Zeppelin songs, on the drive over to my parents house, we got out, in a quite cheerful mood, well I could still see the heaviness in those emerald green orbs of his, but I made a quick promise to myself that, I'll do anything in my power, to make sure he has a little fun and relaxes a bit. So without further due, I grabbed his hand, which in return he held the beer and some of the snacks. We rang the doorbell and got welcomed as if we were long lost. We walked in and the living room, spoke of fun with the board games all stacked up, there was wine, and beer, finger foods, it spelled laughter and fun.

 As the night got started and we were teamed up together we laughed and shared stories throughout the games. When Dean ate all the pie and some other snacks, me and my mom went into the kitchen, to get some more snacks. When she smiled looked at me and said, "Sweetie,you look so happy are you?" 

My eyes glistened, "Mom! I'm not happy, I'm overjoyed, I simply adore Dean, I love him more than anything in this world" soft tears rolled down my mom's cheeks, "Sweetie I'm so happy for you, he looks like a good man" I nod, "He is mom, he has his problems but when it comes to me, he treats me like a queen". And with that we walked back to where Dean and the rest of my family were sitting. He gave me that smirk, of his, the one that made my knees weak, and I smile back, he pats the seat next to him, and I gladly obliged, he placed a sweet kiss on my cheek, I placed my hand on his thigh, giving him a slight squeeze, after my father cleared his throat he said we should maybe play a card game, and so we started.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, an accusation of cheating every now and again, but it was all playful, and light hearted fun, and as the night went on, everyone taking turns, when it came to Dean's turn, I felt his head resting on my shoulder, and when I looked down, I saw his eyes were closed, the man fell asleep in the middle of room filled with people. I didn't have the heart to wake him up, or even stir a little, so I took the beer out of his hand, and the left over cards and sat it down with mine, mouthing to my parents that we are done playing for the night so I just watched them play further on, until one for one got up and either went home or to bed, leaving me and Dean in the living room, his head still on my shoulder. It didn't take long for my eyelids to fall close, my head gently rested against him.

The night turned into early morning sunrays lighting up the room, my eyes fluttering open only to be met by his forest green orbs, his voice gruffly "Sweetheart when.. what... How?" Smiling, I look at him, my own voice a little croaky from the sleep, "No! Apparently we're so boring and not good company at all, you fell asleep while we were playing cards" 

Dean looked shocked and ashamed "Sweetheart it's not that, it's, I'm so sorry okay, I don't..." I pressed a finger on his lips , "Shhh, babe I'm joking, I know you were tired" A smile tugs at his plum lips, "really you had to make me feel bad didn't you?" Shrugging my shoulders, chuckling a bit "I couldn't help myself, sorry my love" he looks at me as if he's looking into soul, "I love you, you know that right?" Nodding about to answer but before I could, he's lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss, his fingers tangled in my hair, I couldn't hold the small moan escaping my lips, the grin on Dean's lips was unmistakable, he shifted slightly, gently guiding me to lay on the couch, I giggled, whispering "My parents'' pressing his finger against my lips, "shhh sweetheart, we don't want to wake them up do we?" with that he captures my lips in a passionate kiss, after a little while, he pulls back, hoarsely whispers "I like game night!"  planting yet another kiss, in that moment I knew, I Will always love this green eyed man, even if he falls asleep mid family events.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @bookishtheaterlover7 @cutedisneygrl

[illumins]

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝑙. 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘 (#⁰³)

✦trope: fluff, spidey-mark, spiderman

✧first pov

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭

It’s the kind of morning where the sunlight seems to perform, glittering through the leaves of the trees lining our school’s front walk like something alive. The bus, dented and smelling faintly of rubber and stale lunches, sits idling at the curb, and I am hyper-aware of my own heartbeat, the tap-tap-tapping against my ribcage as I shuffle in line to board.

I find a seat by the window, sticking my backpack onto the empty space beside me. I tell myself it’s to save the spot for Jenna, but she’s decided to sit up front, leaving me an island in a sea of noise. The other students buzz with the sort of aimless energy only a field trip can inspire. I watch them, trying to imagine how it would feel to be as light-hearted, their thoughts not tangled in a net of impossible hopes.

Mark climbs onto the bus last, his hair a tousled mess from the wind, a grin playing on his lips as he jokes with his friends. They’re talking about the new exhibit at the science museum, something about rare minerals, but all I can see is the way his shoulders ease back in laughter, the effortless orbit of his friends around him. He’s got this gravity, and I feel caught in it, helpless.

He doesn’t notice me, not yet. He’s recounting some anecdote that has them all leaning in, their expressions lit with shared amusement. I watch his hands as he speaks, animated and sure, the way I imagine Spider-Man’s might be when he’s scaling a skyscraper or swinging between the canyons of New York’s avenues. I try to picture telling him, confessing everything right there in the vibrating hull of the school bus. But the words knot in my throat, unspoken.

We arrive under a sky scrubbed clean by the wind, the museum rising before us like a monument to all things curious and unknown. Our teachers herd us toward the entrance, their voices raised over the clamor. I stay a few steps behind Mark, watching as he squints up at the banners flapping above the entrance, his profile sharp against the pale morning light.

Inside, the museum is a cavern of shadows and echoes, the air cool and tinged with the scent of metal and glass. We wander through the exhibits, the teachers giving us time to explore while they discuss logistics at the front desk. My friends cluster around a display of meteorites, their surfaces pocked and scarred like moons. I drift away, my sneakers silent on the polished floor.

I find him by the Foucault pendulum, standing so close to the barrier that his breath must be fogging the brass plaque explaining the physics of it all. His concentration is a tangible thing, and I watch the way his eyes track the slow, hypnotic swing of the pendulum.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” I say, my voice softer than I intend, barely threading through the hum of distant conversations and the distant echo of footsteps.

He turns, his smile quick and surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to break his private communion with the exhibit. “Hey,” he says. “Yeah, it really is. Did you know—”

But I’m barely listening, too caught up in the way his hair curls just behind his ears, the earnestness of his gaze. I shuffle my feet, feeling suddenly clumsy, the words I’ve rehearsed slipping away like water through fingers.

“So, I was thinking,” I start, but my voice trembles and I have to start again. “I was wondering if—”

An explosion shatters the moment, the sound so loud it seems to consume the air. Screams slice through the museum as people start running, a stampede of fear. Mark’s hand shoots out, grabbing my arm, pulling me close. His body shields mine as the sound reverberates, the ground beneath us shivering with the violence of the blast.

“Are you okay?” he shouts over the noise, his eyes scanning the chaos, always looking for how he can help. I nod, words lost in the tumult.

We move together, his hand firm on my elbow, guiding me towards what I assume is safety. My heart is a wild thing inside my chest, not just from the blast, but from him, from the heat of his hand through the fabric of my shirt.

As we reach a quieter corner, his friends gathering around us, his face is inches from mine, his brow furrowed with concern. The chaos around us blurs into a backdrop as I’m suddenly, acutely aware of his closeness, the faint smell of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of fear.

“Seriously, are you all right?” His voice is steady, a contrast to the trembling of my own limbs.

I manage a nod, my throat tight. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks to you.” The words tumble out awkwardly, carried more by relief than by courage. The truth is, I want to say so much more, to rewind to the moment before the explosion, to the question I had been about to ask.

He smiles, a quick, reflexive thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he scans the area, still in protector mode. His gaze is everywhere, taking in exits, assessing threats, so unlike the carefree high school student he plays in the daylight of ordinary afternoons.

Mark turns back to me, his hand still gripping my arm lightly. “We should keep moving. It’s not safe here.”

As we walk, I can hear the sirens in the distance, the sound growing steadily louder. The museum staff are directing visitors toward emergency exits, their voices calm but urgent over handheld radios.

We reach a side exit, the cool air outside a slap after the stifling fear inside. Police cars and fire trucks are converging on the scene, their lights painting the world in harsh strokes of red and blue. Mark's friends cluster together, everyone speaking at once, trying to make sense of the chaos.

I stand slightly apart, the weight of my unasked question heavier than ever. Just as I gather the remnants of my scattered courage, ready to reach out and touch his arm, to pull him aside and finally speak my truth, he looks over, his expression shifting as he sees something beyond my shoulder.

“Stay here,” he says abruptly, and then he’s gone, melting into the crowd with a swiftness that speaks of more than just urgency—it speaks of necessity, of duty.

The others don’t notice his departure, not at first, caught up in their own relief and recounting of the event. I watch where he disappeared, the cold knot of disappointment settling in my stomach. Not because of the missed chance to confess, but because I know, with a sinking certainty, where he’s gone.

To change, to swing into action as someone else entirely. As Spider-Man.

I wrap my arms around myself, watching as the first responders begin to corral us further away from the building. The sound of distant thuds and muffled shouts suggests that the danger isn’t over, that whatever caused the explosion might still be unfolding inside.

And there, under the relentless sweep of emergency lights, I realize the truth isn’t just in the words I’d failed to say. It’s in this moment, in the pulse of fear and the clarity it brings. It’s in the understanding that my confession wouldn’t just be about a crush; it would be an acknowledgment of his double life, a step into his world of constant peril and masked identities.

As I watch, poised on the edge of something vast and terrifying, a new resolve forms. When this is over, when he comes back, I’ll be waiting. Not just to confess, but to stand by him. Maybe then, he’ll see me not just as a classmate, but as someone who knows the weight of his secrets and chooses to stay.

But for now, I wait, the sirens wailing a lament, the flashing lights casting shadows where I stand—alone but undeterred, ready for whatever comes next.

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - Father’s Day

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): mention’s of sex

Bear with me. This is a recovery fic lol. I have so much medicine in my system it’s amusing 😭

—————————————

“Ohh you’ll never guess what I did today!”

Auston and I could barely contain our smiles in the front seat of his car, glancing at each other while Hudson kicked his feet and giggled in the back. It was no special occasion, but for a single mother one special day in June was like a national holiday after finding a man. Especially a few weeks after he finally proposed. Auston and I had spent our day naked in bed, passionate and loving, laughing and joyous. We needed it, quite honestly. And it felt good to know Auston felt appreciated and happy on such a day. After all the hard work he put in, and the amount of time he spent with Hudson when the summer began, I didn’t take no for an answer when he said he didn’t want to celebrate Father’s Day.

“What did you do today, Hudsy?” Auston asked curiously.

“I can’t tell you! It ruins the surprise!” Hudson’s complaint made us both snicker.

With school out, and myself still working, Auston was usually on Hudson duty from day to day. When he brought up the idea of Hudson attending a summer day camp three days a week, we discussed it for a while before bringing it up to the kid. He seemed completely on board with a little encouragement, and we definitely couldn’t have made a better decision. His days were only four hours long, so we still had an abundance of time with him, and it also gave Auston a break when he needed it, and time for us to spend alone on my days off.

“So there’s a surprise?” I asked, glancing toward the road as Auston drove us back to my place. I had a hunch as to what kind of surprise it was, but I kept it to myself.

“Yes! I have the biggest surprise!”

“It wouldn’t happen to be in the bag, would it?” Auston asked, peeking in the rear view mirror at the brown paper bag Hudson held.

“Don’t look, dude!”

Auston was still patiently waiting for ‘dude’ to turn to ‘dad.’ He and Hudson had a few conversations discussing the fact that he would be Hudson’s dad, but Hudson had yet to actually call him anything but Auston.

“Well when can we see it?” Auston laughed.

“When I’m ready.”

And sure enough, Hudson took his sweet old time. Once we got home, he bounced off to his bedroom while I got started on dinner. Auston joined me to help, but he was more or less a distraction. After I had placed the lasagna in the oven, I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his shoulders and smile.

“Happy Father’s Day.” I whispered between chaste kisses. Auston pressed my back gently against the countertop. I giggled.

“That still sounds weird.” Auston spoke quietly in return.

“Don’t tell Hudson it sounds weird when he decides to start calling you dad.” I advised playfully. Auston pressed another kiss to my lips.

“You know I won’t.” He smirked, his hands traveling to my hips. “You wouldn’t happen to know when that’s coming, would you?”

“That kid is unpredictable. Just be patient, Aus. He loves you. Baby steps.”

“Right.” Auston sighed quietly.

“Right, what?” I was swift to pick up on his mood change.

“Right, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Auston flashed me a feigned smile and pressed a kiss to my head.

“Auston.” I was quick to scold, watching as his eyes fell to the floor in consideration.

“I don’t know, it’s just-“ I pulled away to open the fridge. “I see all my friends with kids and.. they get called dad all the time and.. I don’t know.”

“Makes you a little jealous?”

“Sad, actually.”

I turned back to him, raising a brow.

“I do everything they do. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Auston.” I smiled, in both understanding and reassurance. Every parent questioned their methods, he was no exception. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Look at it from his perspective. Hudson never knew his first dad. He’s never had a guy to call dad. Or a father figure. And now he has a man in his life who takes care of him and his mom. His first proper example of a father. He’s still understanding that this is what a father is.” I reached out to cup his cheek. “You are his dad, I have no doubt about it. Just give it time.” I flashed him a quick smile.

“Baby steps.” Auston repeated my previous words.

“Baby steps.” I affirmed, leaning in once again to kiss him. Auston managed a smile against my lips. When I pulled back, I spotted a little figure in the doorway, startling me.

“Go ahead.” Hudson waved us on, carrying the little paper bag to the table and climbing up into his seat. Auston and I both smiled as we watched him, turning to keep our eyes on the boy as he got situated.

“Do we get to see this surprise now?” Auston asked, suspicious and excited.

“In a few minutes.”

“Damn.” Auston muttered, and I was swift to backhand his arm.

“You know better.” I scolded softly.

“Auston you shouldn’t curse.” Hudson piped up, and I had to stifle a laugh as Auston looked wide eyed at my child.

“Hudson,” I scolded. Despite the situation being amusing, I still had the motherly role to play. “You shouldn’t tell Auston what to do.”

“But you say it’s bad.” Hudson defended himself.

“For grownups it’s a little different.” I tried to reason, but sometimes a simple, ‘because I said so’ was easier to say.

“I guess so.” Hudson shrugged, lifting his eyes to peek at Auston. “Okay.” He breathed out a sigh, placing his hands dramatically on the table. “It’s surprise time.”

“Finally?” Auston smirked, quickly leaving the kitchen to join Hudson at the table.

“Is it for both of us?” I questioned.

“No… sorry mom. It’s just for Auston.”

I glanced at Auston to see the cheeky smirk on his lips, and I rolled my eyes.

“Today at day camp. The girl asked the kids if they celebrated Father’s Day. And a lot of them raised their hands.” Hudson peeked down at the table. “I didn’t.. and later she asked me why. And I told her ‘cause I didn’t have a dad before. And she said that’s okay. That sometimes it’s okay to celebrate your pap or great grandpap.. or nobody at all, and I told her that there was this one guy.”

I folded my arms across my chest and watched as Hudson drew shapes into the wooden table with his finger.

“I told her that he takes care of me when I’m sick. And that he tells me he loves me before he drops me off.. that he sings for me sometimes even if he sucks at singing.. and that he’s marrying my mom.” I considered grabbing my phone to film, but I wanted to live in this moment while it happened.

“Yeah?” Auston prompted him on. “He sounds pretty cool.” I immediately rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, he is pretty cool.” Hudson nodded in response, barely registering the joke Auston had made. “The girl said, that sounds an awful lot like a dad to me.. and then she helped me make this thingy.” Hudson finally opened the brown bag, rummaging through it until he snatched up the item inside.

“It’s not a lot.. but I wanted to celebrate Father’s Day with you.” Hudson’s cheeks turned red as he set his hands on the table and presented a little threaded bracelet. “It says dad.” He explained, and I could only assume there were beads on the one side I couldn’t see. I clasped a hand over my mouth, watching as Auston’s lips turned upward into a huge smile.

“Hudson.” Auston reached out to take the bracelet. “This is awesome, Buddy!” I could barely contain my smile at the sight of tears in Auston’s eyes. I would have loved to butt in, but it wasn’t my moment to share.

“I’m really, really happy you stayed.” Hudson watched Auston slip the bracelet on. “And I’m happy you’re marrying my momma.”

“Well ya know what, bud?” Auston leaned forward to ruffled Hudson’s hair. “I’m happy I’m gonna have the coolest and best kid in the whole universe.”

“I’ll be- technically your step kid though.. right?” My brow shot up in surprise.

“Nope.” Auston shook his head. “You’re just my kid. My son. No steps, no anything. You’re my son.”

“And you’re my dad?”

“Hell yeah, I’m your dad.”

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