#HE GRABS THE CHILD HIS OTHER HALF JUST TRIED TO MURDER

[springtrappd]

i know i bring this up a lot but "sun pre-hw2 was largely sweet and nice and nobody had any reason to suspect that he was actually kind of rude & shared moon's capacity for cruelty" is such a baffling take when he ends his first and only appearance prior to that point by literally throwing a lost child out to the dogs and calling the murderous mall cop on him because said kid wasn't respecting his authority. like. i am sorry but i think this one is on you

[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

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Unusual Love (Cato Hadley x reader)

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Description: Your chances of winning the games were zero, but you would have thought the chances of falling in love with a Career would’ve been even lower.

Warnings: first time, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum, talk of death, no protection

8811 words

This was the material of all the nightmares you had as a child. Except this time you wouldn’t wake up, that you were sure of. You hadn’t been shocked when no one volunteered when your name was called at the reaping, you lived in District 8 after all, but you had still hoped in the back of your mind. You weren’t even going to make it through the first day in the arena, that much was certain, and thinking about how this would have been your second to last reaping before you would have been save, made you feel defeated already.

You were good at what you were doing in your district, you were relatively short and your small hands were perfect for embroidering. But the skills you learned in your textile industry heavy home, wouldn’t help you killing other people. Not that you thought you would be able to actually end somebody else’s life. Trying to find allies would probably prove difficult too, you were too shy and didn’t bring any helpful skills to the table anyway.

So now that you were on the train to the Capitol and saw the reaping in the other districts, you accepted your chances were zero. The boy from your district was a year younger than you, 16 and he was so arrogant. If you remembered correctly his name was Taron. He acted as if he was too good for all of this, eventhough you could see he was scared. But you did your best to steer clear of him, especially after one ‚accidental‘ grab of your butt earlier at the meeting with your mentors. You really didn’t need that right now.

Your mentors Woof and Cecelia seemed alright, maybe you could learn a few skills just so you could escape the brutal deaths at the cornucopia. You leaned back in your seat, watching the world fly by outside and you tried not to cry (again) as you thought of your younger brother and parents back at home.

———————

When the door to your bedroom on the eighth level of the building finally shut, you fell onto the bed with an exhausted huff. You felt like a plucked chicken, your skin almost uncomfortably clean and scrubbed. Your stylist seemed nice enough, she was a little too much of course - like everyone in the capitol - but she didn’t seem to be excited at the idea of sending you off to get murdered. You had about two hours before they would pick you up to get dressed and styled for the parade, and you intended to try and not think about all the ways you could die in a weeks time.

You had to admit, the costumes Aspasia designed for you were really fitting for your district. She picked the most eyecatching fabric and surprisingly made a very simple but stunningly flattering dress for you. It hugged your body in the all the right places and was dramatic, but the focus was still on the eyecatching fabric. Your hair was styled in a half up half down hairdo, flowing over your back in soft waves. You definitely felt like a princess, and you were grateful to Aspasia that she didn’t dress you as a glittering sewing needle or some stupid stuff.

Taron hovered close to you when you stood next to the chariot you were supposed to drive out there on. His presence always gave you the ick, he seemed to try and make the most of his last days and you were doing your best to avoid him whenever you could. Suddenly you felt an intense stare on the side of your face, and when you looked over to your right, you saw it was the tall blonde Career from District 2.

Your heart immediately started to speed up, his stare wasn’t necessarily predatory but in that moment you were sure he was thinking about how easy you were to kill. You did have to note that he was very handsome, but probably just as deadly - if not more - so you quickly broke the eyecontact and tried to reign in your blush.

You couldn’t have been further from the truth though, Cato wasn’t planning on how to kill you, he was just very good at not showing emotions. In reality he was stunned by how beautiful you looked, he had seen your reaping and thought you were cute but the dress you wore made you practically glow, his heart betraying his mind and beating harder in his chest when your eyes met. When you blushed he felt something stir inside of him, but he quickly shook it off. This was stupid, you were only some easy to kill tribute from a lower district - at least he tried to convince himself of that.

—————————

You were up early the next day, you were so nervous for the first day of training and especially scared to meet the other tributes for real. God, what if you embarrassed yourself, you were sure to be a number one target of they saw how useless you were. Woof and Cecelia advised you to concentrate on survival skills rather than fighting, finding water and food was more important than knowing how to use a knife - at least in your case.

You tried to blend into the background, and you were succeeding for the most part. There was only one pair of eyes you couldn’t seem to shake and it was the same as the evening before. Why was he staring at you so much? You were getting so flustered from his stare that you couldn’t concentrate on anything. You were currently hiding out at the fire station, and you were glad he seemed to be occupied by sword training, because his attention was making you feel things you shouldn’t - things you were sure were a figment of your imagination anyway.

You were failing at starting a fire pathetically and the instructor was helping a younger boy at the moment, but suddenly someone kneeled next to you. „You’re doing it wrong“, you winced and your head snapped up. It was the female tribute from district 12. „I know“, you sighed and finally gave up, putting down the stick. „Let me show you“, she was a little rough with her words but you were stunned that she even talked to you.

In minutes she had a fire going and you were slightly embarrassed because of your incompetence. „Come on, you try“, she urged you, pushing the utensils into your hands. It took a while longer than hers, but eventually you actually had a small fire. „I did it! Thank you“, you genuinely smiled at her, „Katniss right?“ She just nodded and got up, making her way to the station with the traps. Now that you weren’t distracted anymore, you could feel Catos eyes on you again.

But you were quickly distracted again, Taron moving into your personal space with a smirk. „Oh I see you did something there sweetheart“, he chuckled and patted your back encouragingly, making you cringe away slightly. „Don’t call me that“, you muttered and started to get up, but he grabbed your arm tightly. „Now, now I was only trying to be nice“, he tutted, god he was so condescending. You tried to shake him off again and to your relief he let you go with a roll of his eyes this time.

Cato had to gather all his self control to not rush over to the boy from your district and kill him already. He tried to entertain himself with the thought that he would be the first that would be killed by him. Definitely. The boy obviously made you uncomfortable and when he grabbed your arm, Cato couldn’t keep the frown off his face. Glimmer noticed. „What is it Cato?“, she followed his gaze and frowned too.

„That guy seems like such a slimy douchebag“, she seemed to think the same as him and now Clove noticed too. At least you managed to shake him off. „Yeah, I saw him trying to feel up the redhead from District 5“, she looked appalled and now Catos thoughts were only circling about what that boy tried to do when you were on your floor. He definitely needed to teach him a lesson somehow. He turned away from the scene with a grunt, picking up a sword and releasing his frustration on one of the dummies.

————————

You felt like you were suffocating, you just couldn’t fall asleep. You needed fresh air but the windows had no way of opening and the different views you could control with the remote did nothing for you. For the last hour you had been debating if you should risk taking the stairs you had seen the avox use earlier today and see if there’s a rooftop exit.

With a quiet sigh you threw back your cover, throwing on a sweater on top of your pajama and slipping on your shoes. You silently tiptoed across the floor towards the door, hoping that no one would be around to stop you. You opened the door carefully, not knowing what exactly was on the other side, but it was just an empty concrete staircase. You were looking over your shoulder a few times when you made your way upwards, nervously tugging the sleeves of your sweater down.

When you finally made it past door 12, you were greeted with a door that said ‚rooftop‘ and was already slightly ajar. You hestitated for a second, but what’s the worst that could happen? So you silently pushed the door open. There was a small windowless building on top, probably for ac-units, but otherwise it was empty. There was a railing and you were sure there were other protections against people jumping that were invisible.

You walked towards the small building, planning to sit behind it near the edge so you can lean against it. But when you rounded the corner you stopped abruptly. There already sat a figure, and now you were reprimanding yourself for not connecting the open door to someone being here. And when you looked closer you could see it was Cato, and he was already looking at you.

„S-sorry, I’ll just go“, you stumbled over your words, his intense gaze making you nervous once more. „Stay (Y/N)“, his voice was rough and he talked in such a demanding way that your body halted on its own. He knew your name? „Sit“, he instructed you and as if you had no will of your own (or maybe you actually wanted to be near him) you walked over to him slowly and sat down, keeping some distance between you.

You sat in tense silence and you stared out onto the skyline while you could feel his eyes roam over your face. „Couldn’t sleep either?“, he asked, his voice sending a shiver down your back. A good one. „No, I felt like I suffocated in there“, you sighed, your arms hugging your knees. „Me neither“, he chuckled and you finally gathered the courage to turn your head. His blue eyes were piercing yours, not in a threatening but in a curious way. You couldn’t fight the blush and caught his smirk before you looked forwards again.

„Why? Too much on your mind?“, you questioned, trying to fill the silence. He hummed affirmatively. „This is all really different from what I thought would happen“, he elborated, but you didn’t question him further, not wanting to pry. „Yeah“, you sighed, and you continued to sit in silence. But it wasn’t tense, it was kind of comforting.

„That boy, the one from your district“, Cato started, and he could see your face scrunch up a little. „Mhm what about him?“, you asked, turning your head and meeting his eyes once again and his stomach tingled pleasantly. „He’s bothering you“, he stated, it wasn’t a question, he knew that boy made you uncomfortable and it made his anger flare up again.

„Uhm yeah, kind of“, you were unsure why Cato would care about that, but he looked so good angry you could barely question it. „What did he do?“, his voice was a little strained, but he was good at masking his emotions, you had to give him that. „It‘s not that bad, he just seems to think he has to make the most out of his last days“, you shuddered when you thought about his grab on the train, thankfully he didn’t do that again.

„Did he touch you?“, he scooted closer to you, looking serious and you shrank back a little. „N-no…just one time, in the train he…“, you didn’t dare lie to him, you felt as though he could see right through you. „He what?“, his teeth were clenched and you answered him in a whisper: „He uhm grabbed my butt.“

Cato had to clench and unclench his fists to keep calm. He didn’t understand why he reacted that way to you being disrespected like that, but he couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. He grumbled unhappily and leaned back against the wall behind him. His chest felt kind of restricted at the thought of another man touching you, and he was going crazy because of the inner war he was fighting. You and these new intense feelings on one side and his upbringing and what he thought he was supposed to do on the other.

——————

You didn’t feel his eyes on you as much the next day at training, but you still did from time to time. You were at the station were you could learn about poisonous plants when it happened. „Where the fuck is my knife 8? I left it right here!“, Cato barked at your male counterpart, making him visibly flinch. He tried to put on a brave facade though, squaring his shoulders. „I don’t have it“, Taron answered but the Career from District 2 just laughed and menacingly walked towards the much shorter other male.

„Fuck you, I know you’ve taken it!“, Cato growled at the now obviously terrified boy and grabbed his collar, and he could see the peacemakers started to walk towards them. He leaned in close and made the point he actually started all of this for. „If you ever touch (Y/N) again you’re dead, do you hear me?“, no one heard him but the boy in his grip and he nodded so hard he could have broken his neck with some bad luck.

You watched in shock as the two males were pulled apart, actually more like Cato was pulled off of Taron. Cato held his hands up in a peaceful manner and was let go with a warning, and when he turned and met your eyes, you swear he flashed a smile at you, making your heart pound and your face grow hot.

You turned back towards what you were doing before, but your concentration was gone. Your heart calmed down eventually, but you were realizing what this was developing into. You heard the adults in your district describe it and it felt just like that. You were starting to fall for the tall Carreer.

———————

You couldn’t resist the fresh air on the rooftop tonight - and maybe you were hoping to see Cato again. And you were lucky, he sat there in just the same spot. When he heard you walking towards him, he looked over and gave you a smile, a real genuine one for the first time. „Hey“, you smiled too, and he nodded as a greeting.

You sat down next to him, a little closer than yesterday. „How was dinner? Did Taron bother you?“, Cato looked curious and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. „No he left me alone for once…“, his face lit up with a satisfied smirk and you were unsure why he would suspect something changed, but then you remembered their alteration today.

„Cato“, you looked at him wide eyed and he felt the need to protect you flare up again at your innocent stare, the way you said his name made him feel the weakest he felt in years. „Mhm?“, he was still smirking, happy that he successfully scared the boy off. „There was no knife was there“, you worded it like a question, but he knew you figured it out. „Nah“, he chuckled and looked over the skyline.

Once your brain caught up with the fact that he scared off Taron to protect you, your heart was almost jumping out of your chest. Why would he protect you? He was a Career, he was trained to win this, to murder, why would he care about you in any way? Honestly you were even more touched because of that. „Thank you“, you whispered and your hand squeezed his biceps - his big and bulging biceps - automatically.

The feeling of your skin on his spread a fire through his body he didn’t know was possible. His head snapped towards you, and it seemed to startle you because you pulled your hand away. At least you tried to, but he didn’t want you to stop touching him, so he quickly grabbed your hand with his and interlaced your fingers, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t either, but neither of you let go while you were sitting there together.

—————————

The fourth day at training you were surprised again, Cato actually approached you at where you were trying your best at painting your skin to camouflage. You had sat together yesterday too, holding hands again and your head had even slid onto his shoulder, but you would have never thought he would talk to you infront of the other tributes. Wouldn’t that damage his reputation? And that only a few days before entering the arena.

„That looks pretty good“, he was being nice, it didn’t look pretty good. You weren’t really talented at this either. The only thing you knew you were good at was climbing, you had climbed trees all your childhood and your small light frame was perfect for that. But your mentors told you to not show your strengths infront of the others, but rather work on your weaknesses.

„Uhm thanks, maybe it would work if it’s dark“, you tried to convince yourself at this point looking down at your arm and then put the brush down with a sigh. „What are you doing Cato?“, you looked at him in wonder. „I just…I wanted to talk to you“, he was clearly at a loss for words, and to see the strong scary Career like that - because of you! - made you smile. „Do you think that’s a good idea? Your…friends look equally confused and murderous“, you could see the three of them look at Cato like he was insane, the girl from his district looked like she wanted to throw the knife she was holding at your head right now.

„They’re not my friends“, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his muscles straining and you were flustered immediately. Why were you so unable to control yourself damn it. You didn’t look at him, but you could already envision that stupidly hot smirk. „How about I show you a few easy things with a knife hm?“, he nodded over to the weapons that you had been steering clear of until now.

„I-I don’t know I‘ve never…“, you tried to avoid embarrassing yourself but he cut you off by grabbing your arm and leading you over there, the other Careers still watching in shock. „Can’t hurt“, he shrugged and gave you a smaller knife, the object feeling foreign in your grip. You appreciated the thought and you felt it was really sweet of him to try and teach you but the only thing you wanted right now was for the floor to open up and swallow you.

———————

It wasn’t as much of an embarrassment as you thought it would be, after a few minutes the attention from the other tributes subsided eventually and Cato actually taught you a few moves, most of them selfdefense. Everytime he had you in his grip, you were blushing and he seemed to love it. You were pushing open the door to the rooftop again, glad you hadn’t been caught yet.

This time you were carrying a blanket, it was a little cold yesterday and you wanted to make sure you didn’t have to cut your time with him short. He perked up immediately when he heard you, a smile lighting up his face, and you were stunned that this was how you were spending your time before entering the arena - falling in love. Who were you kidding, you weren’t falling you already fell. It was a tragedy really.

But before you could dwell on it too much, you were close enough and to your surprise he took your hand and pulled you down in between his legs, your back to his chest and his arms around your waist. You were breathless for a second, but then remembered how to get air into your lungs and relaxed against him. You still didn’t remember how to talk though, so he took the blanket out of your hands gently and spread it over the two of you.

He couldn’t help but act on his urge to have you close, in three days you would enter the arena and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you - he was stunned by how intense his feelings were. He was supposed to be focused on winning this, that was what he had been trained for, being honour to his District. But with you in his arms like that, your hands softly settling on top of his, he couldn’t be interested any less in that. And it scared him just as much as it made him feel in love.

„Cato, what are we doing?“, your negative thoughts were back, you shifted slightly to look up into his face. He frowned and his grip on you tightened slightly. „What do you mean?“, he grunted and didn’t meet your eyes, he knew what you meant. „This, us“, you gestured between you two, „I mean, why are you so nice to me? Not that I don’t like it, I do, but it makes no sense.“

He closed his eyes for a second with a heavy sigh, he knew sooner or later that would come up. He had hoped for later. „I don’t know, I can’t help it“, he was really bad at voicing his feelings, he was taught that it’s a weakness, „you make me…feel things I’ve never felt before.“ You heart was beating so fast you could hear the blood rush in your ears. You knew that for him that was a crazy emotional thing to admit.

„I feel it too“, you smiled, but that smile turned sad quickly and you sighed, „but you realize that…I mean we’ll enter the arena soon.“ You leaned back, your head against his shoulder and it felt like this was the only place in the Capitol you were safe.

„I’ll protect you“, he grumbled, the thought of what could and would happen in the arena made him sick, not excited as it had before. „There’s only one winner Cato“, you whispered, „ and it’s never going to be me, I’m probably the first that gets killed.“ It was almost painful to hear you say that, and only your soft grip on his hands kept him grounded. „You won’t“, he was sure he could protect you, and if it came to it, maybe he would even sacrifice himself so you could live. He was momentarily stunned by the intensity of that thought, but it was true nonetheless.

„What about the other Careers? Aren’t they your allies? They already look like they would like to kill me“, you saw how he got more agitated, „I don’t…I don’t want you to feel responsible for me, I kind of accepted my death the moment my name was called, we should just-“ He interrupted you in a way you never would have thought you got to experience before dying in the arena.

He kissed you. It was a little rough because of his anger but his lips were so soft, and your whole body was tingling pleasantly. After the initial shock you turned in his arms, your hand lacing behind his neck and your reciprocated the kiss gently. You were basically straddling him, but the thight grip he had on your hips let you know it was fine. His lips moved against yours carefully but he was definitely leading the kiss, his demanding and dominant nature making you feel some type of way.

Cato couldn’t believe he was kissing you, he hadn’t felt this good in years. He had kissed - and done other things with - girls before you, but it never ever came even close to what this innocent kiss made him feel. All thoughts of you or him dying were pushed aside for now, he just focused on you. After a few more moments he pulled away breathlessly, opening his eyes and studying your face. You were panting too, you eyes still closed and your pretty lips a little swollen, you were unbelievably beautiful in this moment. „I will protect you“, he repeated himself, not leaving any space for protest before he kissed you again, with a little more passion this time.

———————

Cato had been all over you on the fifth day of training, he didn’t leave your side, just once and only to perfect what he would show tomorrow. That gave you a little time to breathe, he was determined to teach you as much as possible, ignoring all the looks you two were getting. You were once again hiding at the fire station, not from Catos eyes but from the others this time.

„That looks much better than your first attempt“, the voice of the girl from district 12 startled you, she sat down next to you and watched the other tributes in the hall. „Thanks, I had a good teacher“, you smiled, at least someone here was decent to you - and didn’t outright look ready to kill you or was terrified because of Catos presence.

Katniss didn’t know why she approached you again, she didn’t really want any allies but your gentle nature reminded her of Prim - eventhough you were older. She was also a little relieved to talk to someone other than Effie, Haymitch and Peeta, even if it was just superficial smalltalk. The training days were starting to become a little dull. „Cato looks like he’s about to kill me“, she noticed the scary Careers stare on her now that she was close to you.

„Sorry about that“, you sighed, your fire long forgotten. „Don’t be, he’s worried for you, it’s…surprising but nice to see there is something good left in this place“, she shrugged, meeting your eyes and you nodded in agreement. You were surprised the girl talked to you, but she was nice enough. „You want me to show you how to set up a simple trap?“, she offered and you were surprised again. „Yeah sure! That would be great“, you followed her immediately, knowing that a skill like that could come in handy.

„Yeah good, just pull that string a little tighter“, she pointed to the one on the left, and you fixed it quickly. „That looks right“, she nodded, and you were a little proud you actually did it. „Thanks Katniss, you’re a good teacher“, you were happy about her company, she was a little cold but still nice. „I’ll leave you to your Career“, the ghost of a smile dashed over he face and she was gone, her place quickly filled by Cato.

„What was that?“, he sat down next to you, scowling at the retreating girl. „She showed me how to make a trap“, you pointed in front of you and he grumbled a little. „Don’t be like that, she is nice“, you rolled your eyes and the frown on his face deepend. „How about you? Ready for tomorrow?“, you tried to distract him, you didn’t want to argue about this.

„Yeah“, he was gruff but you didn’t take it personally, that’s just how he was. „Good“, you gave him a soft smile, and it seemed like that did relax him a little. „Are you ready too?“, he looked a little worried again and you saw his hand reach out for you before he dropped it again, it wouldn’t be very smart to display affection like that infront of the other tributes - they were suspicious enough as it was.

„I am, Cecelia told me not to show the others what I can do so I couldn’t practice it though“, at that he raised his brows in surprise. „What? You thought there was nothing I’m good at?“, you asked giggling and he smiled too. „No, no, I’m just curious now“, he stood up swiftly, pulling you up along with him. „Come on, I’ll teach you some more“, he decided.

———————

You were laying in his arms again, his face buried in your neck and you fingers interlaced gently. „I talked to the others today“, he suddenly said, his voice against your neck making you fidget slightly. „About what?“, you asked, his head sliding out of your neck and watching your face instead.

„They still want me to be their ally, and they promised to leave you alone“, he seemed unsure of your reaction, but he was calm nonetheless. „What?“, you were shocked, the glares you always got from them - especially Glimmer - would have never let you guess they would agree to not kill you. Than again, their chances were multiplying with Cato on their side, he was probably the strongest tribute this year.

„I told you I would protect you in there and I meant that, you are…very important to me“, he was mumbling quietly at the end, but you still heard him. „You’re important to me too, but Cato I mean realistically…what if it comes down to us two? I don’t want you to have to ki-”, he interrupted you angrily. „Don’t say that!“, his voice became louder and suddenly had an edge to it, but he took a deep breath and took your cheek into his hand, „don’t…don’t say that, please. We‘ll think about that when the time comes.“

You gently laid your hand on top of the one that was still holding your cheek and only managed to nod. Instead of trying to find the right words, you just leaned in, pressing your lips to his softly and closing your eyes. He immediately pulled you closer, reciprocating and moving his lips in sync with yours, your lips fit together perfectly.

Your taste made his senses go into overdrive, his tongue slowly tracing your lips and sliding in between them. When he sat up there with you, being this close, he could forget the future that was ahead for a few moments. When you held onto him like that it made him feel comfortable, a possessiveness and need to protect you fall over him. Contrary to Glimmer who had hung onto him the first day of training. That girl had made his skin crawl.

————————

You were sitting infront of the TV with your mentors and Taron, Aspasia and Tarons stylist being there too. You were anxiously awaiting your rating, you had given your best to quickly move and climb around the obstacles, being as swift and silent as possible and showing what you got. You had also shown some of your survival skills and skills that involved plants, so you hoped all in all it would be enough for a decent rating

Cato had sat with you when you were waiting to be called on, he was the third one that had to go but it was still nice to have some support. He obviously got a high ranking - a 10 to be exact - and you were honestly very proud of him, god you were so in love. District 7 was just finished when they put your picture on an you were nervously moving on the couch. „(Y/N) (Y/L/N) from District 8 with a rating of…7.“ Oh wow, that was so much better than you thought.

„That’s great! Good job“, Woof clapped you on the back hard and you just had to smile. „Taron Hunlor from District 8 with a rating of…5“, you were surprised he was worse than you, but then again you hadn’t seen him do anything useful at training. „That’s good!“, Cecelia tried to congratulate him, but he got up with a grunt and went to his room.

You were the first on the roof today, and after half an hour you had nearly given up hope that you would see Cato today, but then you finally heard the door open and he rounded the corner slightly out of breath. You beamed up at him and he immediately picked you up, the blanket tumbling to the floor. You squealed slightly at the way he manhandled you - but it also made you feel a little hot.

He sat down where you sat before, you now sitting on his lap and wrapped in his strong arms. „I’m sorry, I couldn’t sneak out earlier, Brutus and Enobaria stayed up forever“, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. „Don’t worry, I’m just glad you came“, you smiled gently and the frown melted off his face, his eyes studying you for a second.

You were so beautiful, the soft wind was moving your hair and the way you were always looking at him so soft and loving made him fall for you more every moment you were together. He carefully gripped your cheek in his calloused hand and pulled you in for a kiss, just a short one. „I’m so proud of you by the way, how on earth did you get a 7?“, he had been genuinely surprised that you got such a good rating, and also had been positively gloating when that boy from your district was worse.

„What’s that supposed to mean? You thought I wouldn’t?“, you grinned and he tickled your side with a chuckle, until you pushed his hands away with a laugh. „I’m quite talented at climbing and stuff, guess that was enough“, you shrugged and he raised his brows in wonder. „You must’ve been really good at that then, don’t be so humble“, he smiled and kissed you again. „Mhm, I’m proud of you too by the way, not that I didn’t expect your score“, you mumbled between kisses, but he just grunted and continued kissing you.

His hand tangled in your hair, while his other pulled you flush against him and he moved his lips against yours more urgently. You hummed contently, matching his rhythm and sinking into his embrace, you loved how intense he got when he felt you relax and be completely at his mercy. He was more than a little possessive, but you loved it - if you were being honest it made you fantasize about the other things you two could be doing, you had heard the other teens in your district talk about it sometimes.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth gently, the way it softly moved with yours making you little lightheaded. You two seperated for air, a sigh leaving your lips, his forehead pressed against yours. „I love you“, it was almost inaudible, but you could clearly hear the term slip out of his mouth, your eyes opening in shock. A fraction of a second later he went rigid, his eyes opening even quicker than yours, and you could tell that he let it slip out on accident.

„Shit, I’m sorry it’s way too early- I mean I didn’t mean to let that slip- Fuck why did I-“, you were shocked to see the normally cool and hardened Career so unsure of himself and quickly interrupted him with a short kiss. „Did you mean it?“, you whispered, you loved him, you were a hundred percent sure of that, but you needed to know if he only said that in the spur of the moment or if he honestly felt that way.

„Yeah, I did mean it“, he breathed, a little calmer but still on edge, Cato wasn’t used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he also felt a little relieved that he told you how he felt out loud. „I love you“, you were positively beaming, an equally happy smile lighting up Catos face, he was even more relieved now that he knew you reciprocated his feelings. You hadn’t known eachother for very long, but it felt like a lifetime already.

—————————

Your stylist team had finished your hair and makeup (and everything else that needed to be done) and now you were just waiting for Aspasia to dress you. „Hello sweetheart“, she was excited as always and couldn’t wait to show you the dress. But you weren’t prepared for the dress she pulled out. „No way“, you gasped and she looked a little confused by your intense reaction. „It’s pretty isn’t it?“, she smiled and walked over to you.

„No, no you don’t understand“, you were really excited, „that dress - I made that!“ She was stunned into silence for a moment, and looked between you and the dress in her hands in shock. „Seriously? That’s so impressive, and I mean what are the odds?“, she was so right, this was damn near impossible, but here you were. The dress ended above your knees, beautiful embroidery all over it.

„I was originally going to design you a new dress, but I saw that dress while I was out the other day, and I just was so captivated by its beauty plus I thought it would fit you perfectly“, she rambled while helping you into the dress, closing it and leading you to the mirror where the shoes were waiting. „You look stunning love“, she smiled and you actually felt like it too.

—————————

„You looked so beautiful today“, Cato panted between kisses, his hands tightly squeezing your hips and yours gently gripping his blonde hair. „T-thank you“, you were breathless when his lips left yours and wandered down your jaw and towards your neck instead. The interview wasn’t that bad actually, the fact that you had made that dress was a perfect ice breaker. „You looked very handsome too“, your voice went up at the end, Catos teeth slightly grazing the soft skin of your neck and sending a shiver down your back.

Cato just hummed, fully immersed in littering your neck with soft kisses, the reactions he pulled out of you making him grow hard. He didn’t mean to, but you were so pretty on top of him, all whining and grabbing his hair, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even notice his hands slipped under your pajamatop, only when his fingertips grazed the underside of your breasts - fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra - and you tensed above him, did he get pulled out of his thoughts.

„Fuck, sorry I didn’t mean to-“, he immediately apologized and pulled back his hand, he was sure you’ve never done anything like that and he didn’t want to pressure you. „No! No it’s okay, I was just surprised…I’ve never…“, you were blushing and growing embarrassed and he thought you were so cute. „Don’t worry love, I don’t want to put pressure on you, I was just lost in you for a moment“, his thumbs stroked you red cheeks softly, a grin spreading on his face.

„You didn’t“, you mumbled, in reality the way he touched you had felt really good, „I liked it.“ His eyebrows were raising and you looked away shyly. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, you thought about how you were probably going to die tomorrow - and you wanted to be as close as possible to him tonight.

„You did?“, he was teasing you a little, but he was honestly curious what you were thinking at the moment. „Yeah…I mean I would like to…“, you had a hard time getting over your embarrassment while he was staring at you so intensely, „if you want to too, we could mhm…continue?“ You were sure the blush was spreading down your neck by now.

He was a little surprised to be honest, but also incredibly turned on by how you wanted to do this too. „I need to hear you say it pretty girl, need to make sure you actually want this“, he liked teasing you, but he was also telling the truth - he needed to make sure you consented to this. „Don’t make me say it Cato“, you were whining and squirmed in his lap, making it hard for him to concentrate, so he held onto your waist tightly, making you stop.

„I need to hear you say it (Y/N)“, he was kissing your neck softly, and you sighed quietly, making him pull you even closer. „I want to sleep with you Cato“, you whispered, but he heard you as if you shouted it, a shiver running through him, „do you…do you want to too?“ He groaned at the question. „Of course I want to baby, god you have no idea“, he moaned against your neck.

He held onto you tightly, laying the blanket across the rooftop and gently laying you down on it. „Are you sure you want this?“, he confirmed one more time, and you nodded impatiently. „Yes, yes I’m sure“, you pulled him down into a kiss, his hips wedged between your legs. He was bracing himself on top of you on his elbows, his biceps caging in your head.

While you were kissing, one his hands wandered under you pajamatop again and his fingertips softly skimmed over your skin, a shiver running through you when he ran his thumb over your already perked nipple. You sighed into his mouth and he pulled back and started peppering kisses over your jaw and to your neck. A little impatiently you grabbed the bottom of your top and pulled it over your head, and he froze for a second.

You were getting a little insecure with him just staring at your boobs, but when you blushed and tried to cover them he pushed your hands away with an unhappy grunt. „Don’t hide from me baby, you’re so beautiful“, he rumbled and you blushed even more, but before you could dwell on it, he lowered his mouth to the formerly neglected nipple and gently ran his tongue over it, making you hum and arch your back a little.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling at the fabric of his top until he let go of your nipple and helped you pull it off of him. You weren’t going to be the only one undressed, and when his toned and muscular upper body came to light you had to bite your lip not to let your moan slip out. Fuck he was so hot, and judging by his smirk he loved your reaction.

His ego inflated even more at the way you were unconsciously rubbing your legs together when he took of his shirt, and he couldn’t believe he would be your first. His lips went back to your perfectly soft boobs, and not being able to rule in his possessiveness he left a few marks, and then made his way down your belly, your hands in his hair making his brain feel all mushy.

You had touched yourself before, but never had you felt like that - your pussy was basically pulsing from his lips all over your body and you could feel there was a wet patch on your underwear. That man did things to you that made you forget everything around you. Your pants were pulled down your legs before you noticed and your lovers lips were on your body again, trailing kisses from your knee over the inside of your thigh towards where you needed him most.

„Cato please“, you were panting a little, his teasing and the anticipation were killing you. „Tell me what you want love“, he was kissing the juncture were your leg met you hips and you were writhing underneath him. „Please touch me“, you breathed, heat filling your cheeks but his grin made your lower stomach tingle in all the good ways.

„Anything you want“, he chuckled and pulled down you panties, but before you could even be selfconscious, he groaned at the sight of your dripping cunt and ran one of his calloused fingers down your slit. When he caught your clit, you whimpered, pushing your hips closer to get more of that feeling, your brain not being able to form a productive thought - you were completely at this tall Careers mercy.

„Fuck baby you’re so wet“, he groaned, his thumb circling your clit and his breath fanning over your pussy. You were so lost in the feeling of him that you didn’t notice his mouth lowering until suddenly his finger was gone and was replaced by his mouth. You gasped, the feeling of his tongue moving over your clit was overwhelming, the sight of his head between your legs so sinful you let out a moan.

He prodded your entrance with his fingers, two of them carefully slipping inside and you were blissed out. He curled them expertly into your spongey spot, your thighs basically smothering him but he didn’t seem to care, and you could feel the coil in your belly tightening. „You taste so good baby, you’re gonna cum for me? Cum all over my tongue come on“, he coaxed you and when he started sucking on your clit and added a third finger, the feeling of the slightly burning stretch and the pleasure of his mouth on you pushed you over the edge.

„Cato!“, you moaned out loud, clenching around his fingers and holding onto his hair for dear life. You were glad the streets were so loud or you would’ve been worried about being overheard. His fingers fucked you through your high, he was imagining your thight heat wrapped around him and groaned, the vibration making you twitch from overstimulation once you came down from your orgasm.

When he heard you whine, the feeling of his tongue too sensitive on your swollen and fucked out pussy, he pulled back and sucked his fingers clean while admiring your pretty face, all flushed and satisfied - satisfied by him, he thought with a smirk. While you were evening out your breathing, he quickly shed his pants and underwear before perching himself above you, his hard cock slapping against your belly, a hum leaving your mouth at the feeling.

„You’re so beautiful“, he whispered, placing kisses on your chin, forehead and cheeks, making you giggle slightly. He smiled at that, his heart beating faster and he embraced the feeling of how whipped for you he was. „I love you“, you laced your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him and he happily yielded. „I love you too“, he mumbled between kisses, but then he felt your small hand wander down his chest and over his abs.

You fingertips slightly brushed the leaking head of his dick, a groan leaving his mouth and he grabbed your hand to stop you. „Fuck baby“, he panted, „if you touch me now I won’t last long.“ You were blushing and he just adored your pretty face, kissing you again, before grabbing your thighs and pulling them up against his hips.

„Are you sure you want this?“, he looked into your big innocent eyes, the head of his cock slipping through your wet folds, mixing his precum with your slick. „Yes, please, I’m sure Cato“, you nodded, of course you were nervous too, it was your first tim after all, but you trusted him completely. You heard the other girls talk about how it hurt the first time, and he was really big, but you were sure he knew what he was doing - why he knew that you didn’t want to think about too much, you weren’t angry or anything, but it still made you feel a little jealous.

He pushed the head of his cock into you and the stretch burned a little, but it wasn’t too bad. You could tell he had to hold back, and when you clenched around him he groaned, burying his face in your neck. You held onto his biceps, the bulging muscle straining from holding his weight up, and then he pushed his hips forward, opening you up more and more, until he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls resting against your ass. He stopped for a moment, giving you a second to get adjusted to his girth.

Cato was sure this was heaven, your cunt was so hot and tight and the sounds you made had him holding onto his selfcontrol for dear life - he had to stop himself from pounding into you right away. Your scent was enveloping him, your small hands on his arms and legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t care about anything or anyone else in that moment - just you, and he knew you would be his priority from now on, always.

„Please Cato, need you“, you whimpered and he came back to reality when you clenched around him, pulling back from your neck and grabbing your thigh in one hand, before mounting you more securely and picking up a slow rhythm. You moaned, the way his veiny cock was dragging along your walls, filling you to the brim made you tighten around him.

He went faster, his thrusts getting harder and battering your cervix, his restraint slipping from him with each time you gushed more slick around him, pulling him into your tight pussy. „Who do you belong to (Y/N)?“, he growled, lost in his possessive nature and the way he dominated the soft girl underneath him. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but when he gave a punctured hard thrust, making you gasp, you could see he wanted an answer.

„You Cato, I belong to you“, you moaned, a shift in his hips making him hit that one spot inside of you, and you were getting lost in your pleasure. „Damn right you do, you’re mine“, he groaned, pulling you into a kiss, his cock never ceasing its assault of your swollen pussy, the feeling of your high approaching making you pull away from the kiss with a whine.

„Cum for me love“, he basically ordered you too, and his deep voice awoke some primal instinct inside of you. His fingers started circling your clit roughly, and you were pulled over the edge, chanting his name and squeezing his hard cock like a vice. He fucked you through your orgasm, and when you came down, he picked up his pace one more time, making you twitch around him slightly, reaching his high with a moan.

He buried himself as deep inside of you as you would take him, his balls tightening and he was spilling his cum deep into your perfect pussy. With one final rut, he stilled and just layed on top of your fucked out form for a few moments - careful not to put his whole weight on you. Both your breathing slowed eventually, Cato turning the both of you around so you were laying on top of him comfortably (his dick never slipping out) and covering both of you with the part of the blanket you weren’t laying on.

„You okay?“, he asked quietly, and you hummed happily. „Better than okay“, you giggled slightly, making him smile. „Good“, he kissed the top of your head, your hair softly falling over his right shoulder and the both of you admiring the skyline, basking in the presence of the other. „Promise me you will run to me tomorrow, I’ll do anything to keep you safe (Y/N), but I need you to run towards me baby“, his arms squeezed your waist tightly, as if afraid you would disappear right now.

„I promise“, you just said, knowing it wouldn’t do anything good to argue about the possibilities of you dying on the way to him. You just wanted to enjoy the moment right now. He seemed to relax underneath you, one of his large hand cupping your cheek and stroking your jaw softly. You kissed him gently, trying to ingrain the feeling of his lips into your brain. No matter what happened now, you would always have his love and he yours.

————————

I recently rewatched the hunger games and was fully back in my obsession with Cato, so here you go! Would really appreciate some feedback, or opinions if there should be a part 2?

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

how did the player manage to get all of them??? what did player do to convince them? if they had to be convinced?? (i'm asking about the 'everyone is saved' au!)

I'm working on a few pieces of art regarding this, but they'll take some time, so until then...

The Player/Angel did half of the "rescues" by accident, the other half by sheer spite. Huggy was saved from falling down by a VERY shaky and terrified Angel who had to drag him somewhere else so they could take a look at him. After freeing a very shocked and terrified Poppy and seeing her getting kidnapped by Mommy Long Legs, the duo went on their way to rescue the doll. And, well...

Lets just say. Long Legs did NOT like having a grown adult look at her face and tell her she seems lonely. Huggy 100% looked at Angel not understanding half of what was going on but still nodded along. He also didn't help much with the games Long Legs was throwing at them, and the toys that were a part of it were SO confused by Huggy being there. Thankfully, though, Angel unkowingly saved their lives with their banter with Long Legs. Angel also sort of "rescued" them/befriended them after the games.

Long Legs... I plan on either drawing or writing more in-depth about how the Angel convinced her to stick around, but let's just say that they GRABBED her out of being crushed to death. Sadly she still lost an arm, but it's better than her life.

Angel came back with Long Legs, Huggy and at least 20 other toys and Poppy was just "??????? how????????", but she was just too thankful to see them alive and well to say anything else.

Angel stayed with the group for some time to take care of everyone's wounds, because Huggy unfortunately also got a bit more hurt during Long Leg's chase. They, uhm, had a sibling fight. That involved certain murder attempt. But, hey, at least they're okay now! Poppy also informed Angel of most details of her plan instead of making them enter the train to reveal that.

Angel, however, decided to head to Playcare alone with Poppy. It took some convincing, but too many toys were hurt for them to feel safe having around without fearing for their lives. Playcare felt lonely until Angel found Dogday and yanked him away from his cell before running for their lives.

For this AU, Dogday does not recover his legs. Angel takes him to Poppy and Kissy, and, together, they stitch him back together. Dogday then follows and helps Angel around, mostly by warning them of what they could find.

I could go on and ONNNNN about what saving Catnap was like but, again, I plan on going that more in-depth later on. So a quick tldr would be "Angel discovers who Theo was and what happened to him before becoming Catnap and decides to bring some comfort to this literal child". Angel knows something else happened to Catnap for him to go from following the Prototype around like a child trying to copy their parent to an apex predator who almost had to beg the Smiling Critters to hunt other toys so they wouldn't starve. Dogday plays a role on this as well because him and Catnap used to be friends (he tried to shield little Theo from all the bullying!), and he genuinely wants Catnap to become better, but he's too hurt to actually be the one who convinces him to switch sides.

Anyways. Angel didn't want for Catnap to be electrocuted again. They were dissociating and on the verge of tears when the Prototype's arm appeared. They didn't even know what happened until they were on top of Catnap and he smelt blood as the Prototype simply left them to be.

Catnap lost an ear and was so, so angry at Angel for throwing themself at him. He was hurt and horrified and he actually screamed at Angel before they calmed him down.

We can say that Catnap knew that dying wasn't the solution he wanted, but after spending so much time in that nightmare, it was the only option he knew. Thankfully Angel knows well how that feels like and gently treated his wounds, even when he tried to attack them, even when he ran away more than once so he wouldn't look at that human again. Angel was still there for him.

Anyways this is followed by Angel having to stop Mommy Long Legs and Catnap from trying to kill each other, and then Angel having to assign Dogday to look out for Long Legs so she wouldn't try to make Huggy or Kissy fight the cat.

Anyways, Angel also befriends the mini critters on this process because they were assigned as the Playcare's new apex predator. Angel asks Catnap to keep the little ones OUT of Dogday's sight so the dog wouldn't have a panic attack, then comes back two hours later to see the mini critters and the mini huggies befriending each other.

After that, it's the group against the Prototype.

...

After that, it's Angel trying to convince Prototype to try therapy. And then when it's all said and one, everyone goes outside and Angel calls the authorities after being handled the paperwork transferring the factory's ownership and money to them. It's a LOT of explaining to do, LOTS of documents to hide so no one else would try to replicate the experiments ever again, and some extra laws being made because what the actual fuck just happened here.

So, in a nutshell:

Angel has too much dad/mom energy for the traumatized kids to not get themselves attached to them.

[nyxronomicon]

chapter iv: zen'in

toji x reader (she/her. tits & vagina)

cw: child neglect, fuckboy Toji, gambling, alcohol, no curses au, found family, DILF Toji, Toji is motivated by sex, anger issues, graphic depiction of murder (stabbing), cigarettes

masterlist

You: I talked to Shiu. I just feel you're lying to me. Maybe we should just be friends. I still want to be there for Megumi.

There it was. Toji was waiting for this. It was inevitable. He didn't even know why he tried. The second you met Megumi, it opened Pandora's box of Toji's shitty life. At least you weren't really involved. Cutting ties wouldn't be necessary. Still, it stung to be rejected like this. But it was his own damn fault for flirting with the neighbor girl.

He couldn't really focus on that right now, anyway. He was busy. After hanging up with Shiu, Toji turned off his phone, shoving it into his pocket. He wouldn't need it. If anything, it would be a distraction. With a sigh, Toji entered the Zen'in clan headquarters.

"Toji." Naoya greeted him. "Took you long enough to get here."

"Fuck off." Toji hissed. "I'm in a bad mood. Where's Naobito? Wanna get this over with."

"What, you think you're just gonna waltz in here and get an audience with the Oyabun?" Naoya's patience always wore thin when it came to him.

"I'm not your fuckin' aniki anymore." Toji trudged forward into the base. "I'm here for a job. That's it. Kong told me Naobito asked for me specifically."

"Ain't you special?" Naoya grabbed his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

"You looking to get punched?" Toji stopped, ripping his arm from Naoya's grasp. He grabbed Naoya's shirt, yanking him forward in a show of strength. "I'm just itching to give someone a black eye."

"Save it." He rolled his eyes, nearly unphased by Toji's gesture. This wasn't the first time he had threatened Naoya. "You wanna get beaten half to death by the rest of the family?" He shrugged, the meandering yakuza in the main room watching the scene.

Maybe I do. Maybe I deserve it. Toji thought to himself before begrudgingly dropping Naoya. He was here for a hit, after all. He'd get his chance to get a little bloody.

"I'll tell Jinichi you're here." Naoya pointed at some chairs. "Chill out for a minute, and try to get in a better mood, jackass." He rolled his eyes, disappearing into the corridor.

"You better not keep me waiting." Toji sneered at the man, turning to the small waiting area.

While he waited, Toji inspected his surroundings. He'd been here hundreds of times before when he was still in the family, but it had been a while since his last visit. Nothing had really changed. It had decor typical for a yakuza stronghold, black leather chairs which he now sat in. Miscellaneous potted plants growing despite the dismal natural light. The scent of cigars hung in the air. Specifically, Naobito's favorite brand.

He eyed the loitering yakuza. Most of them were young, probably barely been in a fight before. They were watching him with interest- he was a Zen'in legend and had the scars to tell them he'd seen more than his share of altercations. They called him the man who left it all behind.

It wasn't long before Jinichi came out from the same corridor Naoya had disappeared into.

"It's been a while, Toji." The grizzled man didn't have many expressions, a faint fondness in his eyes was the only tell that the two men knew each other to an outside observer.

"How's it been? Looks the same as ever." Toji smirked.

"Not like the good ol' days, that's for sure," a slight chuckle escaped the man's lips.

"Probably a good thing." Toji chuckled with him.

"C'mon. Oya-san's waiting." Jinichi nodded his head toward the room where they usually received guests, another reminder to Toji that he didn't belong here anymore. Toji stood, following his lead, though he didn't need the guidance. "Sorry we can't chat. You can probably guess why."

"Yeah. That's what I get." Toji shrugged.

"Any regrets?" Jinichi turned a corner in the halls. It was intentionally confusing to get there for outsiders. Though, the maze-like route was already familiar to Toji.

"That your idea of small talk?" Toji raised a brow, glancing at him.

"Just curious." The man shrugged. He never was very tactful with his words- and the scars he proudly wore were proof of his lack of brain cells.

There was a long pause. They rounded the final hallway when Toji sighed. "Yeah. But that's my problem, onii-chan."

Jinichi paused at the door. "I hope it doesn't weigh too heavy on you, onii-san." Though unnecessary, the exchange of familiarities made Toji feel better. At least, it was nice to think that at least one guy in this place might hesitate to kill him.

They walked in, Jinichi bowing at the boss with respect. Toji's bow was half-assed, more of a formality than anything. They both knew that, but Toji respected the authority of the Oyabun and didn't want to ruffle the feathers of the lieutenants in the room.

It was just Naobito and a couple of his closest confidants. Jinichi also stayed in the room, though the additional men were just for show. This was a conversation between Naobito and Toji.

"It's been a while, Fushiguro." Naobito spoke.

"First time you ever called me that." Toji smirked.

"Don't get cocky." He frowned. "You gave up your Zen'in name. Disgraced the family. Far as I'm concerned, you were never a Zen'in to begin with."

"Maybe you'll extend that courtesy to my son." Toji's smile disappeared, an icy intensity thick in the air.

Naobito chuckled humorlessly. "You know the price if you want him out."

"You say I gave up the name and disgraced the family," Toji stepped closer, "yet you still won't let my five-year-old son out because you want me back?"

"That was the price." Naobito snarled. "That alliance, that arranged marriage, it was all for nothing if not Megumi. He's the heir to the Zen'in clan. You want him out? You gotta do the job yourself." Naobito smirked, taking a puff of his cigar. "Or make us another."

"Fuck off." Toji hissed.

"I heard about a girl." The man was tactfully getting under Toji's skin.

"And?" He attempted to shrug it off, but this was a very sensitive topic for Toji at the moment. Naobito knew him well enough to see his patience wore thin.

"I haven't met her." He cocked his head.

"You won't. Don't worry."

Naobito sighed with a click of his tongue. "I can't have a complete stranger looking after the kid. It's bad enough that you're his primary guardian."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Toji frowned.

"I know you haven't been training him, as was part of the arrangement." Naobito puffed on his cigar. The clove scent quickly filled the room. He nodded to his lieutenants, signaling he wanted them to leave. "Let's talk in private, hm?"

The men bowed and filed out of the room, leaving Toji and Naobito alone.

"What do you want?" Toji sighed.

"I want you to hold up your side of the agreement, Fushiguro." He tapped the ashes off into a nearby ashtray. "You are to train the boy until he's sixteen, ten years. Then he'll join the ranks."

"Eleven-"

"His birthday was last month. He's six." Naobito brought the cigar back to his lips. "Did you miss our card? there was some money for the boy. Unless you gambled it all away again."

Toji frowned. Though, between the drinking and gambling and the sheer lack of time he actually spent with the kid, he must have forgotten the runt's birthday. He knew in a general sense it was in December, but he let the whole month pass by and it didn't cross his mind.

"I don't care what you did with the card, or the money, for that matter." Naobito puffed at his cigar again. "I want you to train the kid. I need a killer. That was the agreement."

"He's just a kid." Toji's words were hollow. He'd already agreed to make Megumi into a killer.

"Just a kid?" Naobito leaned forward, a frown on his face. "You're the one who made the offer. You're the one who sold him to us. The least you could do is prepare him for this lifestyle." He leaned back in his chair, holding the cigar between his lips. The thick smoke was making Toji want a cigarette.

The slightest pang of guilt hit Toji. In trying to escape the Yakuza himself, he'd condemned his own son to the life he so desperately clawed himself out of. Being born a Zen'in might as well be a curse, and even though Megumi never shared the family name, the lineage was enough.

"You mind?" Toji pulled out his pack of cigarettes and Naobito nodded, allowing him to smoke as well. He slid a cig out of the box, taking his time lighting it as the silence between the two men became deafening.

Toji sat in the chair furthest away from Naobito. The old man was right, a promise was a promise. He got paid for the arranged marriage; he got paid for having a son; and he got paid to take care of him.

"Don't think training him was in the contract." Toji took a drag of the cigarette. "How about a gentleman's agreement?"

"You're asking for more?" The man raised a brow.

"Hands off the girl. I don't want any of this coming back to her." Smoke flowed out of his mouth as he spoke. "Megumi likes her. Consider her the kid's mother."

"You gonna get that on paper?" Naobito smirked.

"Fuck no. Not after what you did," Toji hissed. "Besides, since I'm no longer a Zen'in, it's not really your business if I do."

"And your wife?" He puffed the cigar. "The one you never divorced?"

"Christ, you too?" He sighed.

"You want me to enter a gentleman's agreement? Fine, I'll leave your plaything alone." Naobito sighed. "But I need to guarantee that's not coming back to fuck up the alliance I delicately pieced back together after your rough handling. Divorce Miss Fushiguro and train the kid. Those are my terms."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Toji took another drag.

"I don't know what sanctuary you think your ex can offer Megumi, but even she knows that kid is ours. There's a reason she left him with you." The man set his half-smoked cigar in the ashtray, leaning forward. "His fate is sealed, Toji. And she's sure as hell not coming back for you."

Toji looked at the ceiling, the cigarette hanging from his lips. "Didn't have to tell me that." He paused. "Fine. I accept your terms."

"Good." Naobito picked up his cigar again. There was a short silence as both men stewed in mild annoyance. The sooner this meeting was over, the better.

"You had a job?" Toji moved the conversation along.

"Just another hit." He puffed his cigar and filled Toji in on all the details.

-

The next day...

Toji stuck to the shadows, following his target at a distance through the large casino. He half-gambled a table away, watching him instead of his cards. The man was covered in scars with long grey hair sectioned into ponytails. Though, despite his hair color, the man seemed young.

Naobito had mentioned they were feuding with a religious group. That this hit was a scare tactic. The underworld collectively agreed, actually, and several Yakuza families contributed to Toji's fee. He was the chosen hitman because he was unaffiliated. Or at least, in the ways it was important.

Maybe it was just that Naobito cared for Toji so little that he didn't mind sending him to the dogs like this. No matter. This was the only thing Toji was good at, killing and not getting caught.

He followed his target into the high limit room, sitting at the bar with a drink while watching his  every move from the corner of his eye. At 11:23pm, the man excused himself from his buddies. This was the opening detailed in the Zen'in Clan report. As the evening progressed, he always excused himself to sneak onto the rooftop for a cigarette.

Toji smirked, finding the backroom staircase he'd scouted earlier in the day to follow the man. In minutes, he stalked his prey, hiding behind the large whirring air conditioners on the roof.

He watched as the man lit his cigarette. Almost made Toji want one. He'd swipe the pack after he killed the guy. Gripping his dagger, he silently appeared behind the man.

"Hey there, Patchface ." Toji chuckled. The man dropped his cigarette, but before he could turn to face his killer, a dagger plunged through the back of his chest, right through his heart.

"Who..." The man coughed up blood as Toji removed the dagger, pushing him to the ground.

"Who?" He grinned. "Just call me the Grim Reaper." He plunged the dagger into his prey repeatedly, hitting his throat, each lung, and his stomach.

As the man struggled to breathe, bleeding out on the rooftop, Toji picked up the box of cigarettes & lighter that had tumbled from his pocket. The box was stained with blood, but the cigs inside were fine.

"Mind if I bum one?" He asked rhetorically. "Been craving it since we came up here." He pulled one out, lighting it as he noticed the blood splattered up his arm. He was unphased by the man dying next to him, instead frowning at the mess he made. Good thing Toji always wore black to jobs like this.

"W-Why..." sputtered from the man's lips.

"You'll have to ask yourself that." Toji took a long drag of the cigarette. "I'm just here to get paid."

The man coughed and wheezed for a bit longer, finally breathing his last breath in the pool of his own blood.

The rooftop was quiet. Peaceful. Toji understood the appeal of coming up here now. Maybe he'd return the next time luck wasn't on his side.

As he finished the cigarette, thoughts of you involuntarily entered his mind. You were supposed to make dinner for Shiu and Megumi tonight. He checked his watch; it was just before midnight. He wondered if you were still in his apartment. He couldn't control the wave of adrenaline-fueled jealousy at the thought of you spending so many hours with Shiu.

Maybe Shiu was right. Maybe he should let you in. But all Toji ever wanted was an escape, and involving you would only drag you into his world with him.

Toji dropped the cigarette in the pool of blood, causing the embers to fizzle out. You deserved better than an ex-yakuza who sold his only son for his own freedom.

[teecupangel]

Inspired by the Patron Desmond sends his ancestors to earlier points in time and fucks over half a dozen timelines: Desmond wishes all his ancestors had someone to support them through their worst suffering without - you know, getting betrayed by them or watching them die.

So Bayek wakes up in the prime of his life in Altair's time and adopts this child who just watched his father die. When Altair dies, he and Bayek suddenly appear, both in the primes of their lives, in time to see the Auditore get arrested. Bayek, Altair, and Ezio are there when Edward's protecting the Assassins of Tulum and take the piss out of him. The crew plus Edward are there when Ratonhnhake:ton's village burns. They all sail to France on a whim and end up recruiting Arno. All of them appear in London to help out the Frye twins. And when Desmond gets kidnapped... the Assassins have an entire historical legion show up out of nowhere to help bust him out of Abstergo's clutches.

Kassandra keeps showing up, nobody's certain if she's with them all or not, but just... all of the main ancestors glomming together as one hugely dysfunctional murder family forged across time and space who all have the biggest soft spot for Desmond.

Desmond as their Patron has no power over this. This is happening solely based on his wish and he has no control who gets transported and gifted with immortality so even he does not know if Kassandra is also part of his immortality gang.

It’s Bayek who believes Desmond is a god and their patron, giving them this power to protect the world. Of course, there are times when he misses Aya and he wonders if this immortality is a curse. But then he hears the laughter of Darim and Sef before they run after him, grabbing his robes and asking him to tell them another story, grandfather tells the best stories! And Bayek’s lips curved into a smile. Perhaps the immortality is a curse but seeing the people he cares for and loves grow up and take the future for themselves will always be a joy that makes this curse worth it.

Altaïr would be the one to try and understand this immortality that they had. Would be the one to realize that they do die after their life runs its course but they will always be awaken in the same place together, back in their prime, with the memories up to their death. His first business would be to find his Apple and, after the long road he had to take to find the seals to open his library, he decided to set it up so that the next time he needed to find his Apple, it would be in the most convoluted way possible that only he would understand. It’s because of the Apple that they got to Firenze just as the Auditores were being arrested (they saved the day but it was a close call). Then Ezio’s Apple was placed on the vault and Altaïr felt a bit annoyed of how easy his Apple was secured so… he just plopped the Apple there as well.

It is Ezio who first thought of naming the glowing god that appears before them before they are resurrected once more Desmond. There’s something about the god with no discernible features other that his entire body glowing that made Ezio think of Desmond for some reason. Altaïr is the one who tries to search for this Desmond using both his and Ezio’s Apples.

Edward was the one man out. He wasn’t an Assassin yet but he had the makings of one. So they trained him. Bayek had done this three times already, he knows Edward Kenway is the key. Perhaps the next brother that will be given the curse of immortality. They stayed with him until he started to settle down in London, focusing on his family. They visited from time to time but they were not there to save Edward.

When they are resurrected once more, decades have passed and they could only try and save as many people as they could as the fires had already started. Including the mother of a young child by the name of Ratonhnhaké:ton. They stayed in the village for a few days, with the boy’s mother talking to Edward Kenway for a long time, ending with Edward learning of his son’s fate. So they leave the village to find him, to confront him. When Ratonhnhaké:ton was 13, he followed his mother out of the village and they meet once more. Haytham remains elusive and they suggested that they stay with the mother and son for a bit to ‘relax’, only for this to end with them teaching Ratonhnhaké:ton (and sometimes even giving tips to Kaniehtí:io.

And after everything was done, they sailed to France to support Ratonhnhaké:ton who received a letter requesting for aid from Lafayette. There, they met Arno Dorian and took him under their wings, helping him with his missions but only three of them at a time, for they have their own agenda for going to France. (And if this ends with Altaïr taking a Sword of Eden, well… that’s not really surprising).

Helping out the Frye twins had been second nature. Arno and Jacob met by accident when Arno had been buying one of the pubs in London (a financial focused habit he and Ezio had developed through the years) and Bayek thought they needed support (and guidance, so much guidance). By the end of it, they were sure that the twins would become like them as well. (And if this ends with Altaïr taking the Shroud of Eden… at this point, everyone already expects him to take custody over POEs)

It all ends with them moving into the modern day where they used their knowledge and experience to have a partnership with a group called Erudito. From there, it became easier to find the Assassins but their focus shifted when they heard of Desmond Miles.

And Ezio just knows… that this was the Desmond they were all searching for.

[lieslab]

Why does my skin start to burn?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Lee Felix X gn reader

Summary: Watching Felix read his bible leads to a conversation far deeper than he ever imagined.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.1K

Trigger warning: Anxiety, religious guilt, anger, mentions of murder, sexual assault, hate crimes, hatred against women, child abuse, and animal cruelty.

_ _ _

And the two of you fell into a constant routine; a constant pull of gravity of earth and moon. One could not function properly without the other. What good is the earth without the moon? 

The pale moonlight that trails the lost from darkened woods. It highlights the faces of lovers at night and speaks whispers to children, at least, that’s what they think. Their very own personal protector against the darkness, a light in a beacon of nothingness, the one thing that makes them feel as if they’re not so alone. 

You were on your back and already tucked beneath the blankets. That moon sat outside the fluttering curtains. A cool breeze shifted in, but it didn’t help the bubbling anxiety. The what-ifs were back again and as much as you tried to push them away, they remained as a constant thorn in your side. 

Yellow light pooled around the front of the bed via a side lamp. Beside you, the warmth of Felix’s body provided comfort. He was sitting up beside you and tucked beneath the blankets too. You were both draped in the king-sized maroon bedding. Nothing could harm the two of you here. It’s what you wanted to believe. 

A black leather-back bible sat in Felix’s hands. The occasional wisp of a page turning filled the air. His eyebrows sat in a natural furrow as he studied the information. His lips moved as he read, a way to absorb more of the words that way. 

The word of God was so crucial to some. Sometimes in ways that you would never understand. How could you? How could you understand when talking to God felt like talking to empty air? 

People like to say God is there. They like to say he’s always listening and always watching. Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t. It’s always been something you’ve questioned. Some say it’s the lack of faith, but you always say that maybe it’s just the lack of mankind itself. 

Thoughts and prayers. It’s always the thoughts and prayers. Thoughts and prayers through the hurricanes and thunderstorms. Thoughts and prayers when you’re left with your skin on fire after recounting an incident of sexual assault. Thoughts and prayers when life throws you into the deep end and there’s nothing to grab onto. 

There is no life preserver. The words pelt and then slide off of you. They hold no meaning. The weight of your actions is set in stone and words are just words. They can change at any time. A verbal pity works for some, but for others, it feels like receiving a half-deflated balloon on their birthday. 

You sat there with your eyes closed. The low hum of the ceiling fan and the soft whispers of Felix’s voice. Somewhere in the new testament, something about Jesus and the damnation of hell. 

The damnation of hell was eternal. Hot flames lick your skin, but there is no ice to soothe the burn. Skin shrivels and crisps and no matter how much you try, it just won’t disappear. Forever and ever, a seal of God’s abandonment. A testament that you’re just not good enough in his eyes. 

Life is hard and religion can be confusing. So many devotions and deities. Some say sit and others say stay. Everyone always says theirs is the right one, but which one truly is right? Which one saves you from the flames?

“Felix?” Your eyes fluttered open as you mumbled his name. His soft whispers didn’t stop. Too absorbed in the word, he didn’t hear you. He stayed focused until you shifted and called his name louder. 

“Hmm?” The bible slid down. His thumbs pressed down on the pages to hold the book open. “I thought you were asleep.” 

“How do you believe in God?” 

“Huh?” His head shifted. 

“How do you believe?” You uttered again. “How do you know it’s real?” 

“Because God loves everyone. God’s love is unchanging and it’s unconditional.” 

You shook your head, pushed off the blankets, and sat up. “How do you truly know? How do you stop it from feeling so silly? How do you believe in God when it feels fake?” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When it feels fake? What do you mean?” He studied your body language. Your arms had curled around your torso. You looked so vulnerable as you eyed the book in his hands. “Oh.” 

He knew you often struggled. Dating someone who didn’t quite believe the same way as you could push a bit of a challenge at times. The two of you often did an unsteady dance. Most of the time, he kept his religion to himself. You asked here and there, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable. 

“How do you believe in a God when it feels like everything is falling apart? When the world is crumbling, when people are cruel, when they’re getting hurt; how do you live with it?” 

You didn’t mean to pour it onto him like this. You didn’t mean to grieve and to seem so weak, but what else could you do? Empathy pooled and rather than living on earth, it felt more like living in the pits of hell. 

Another life lost to murder. Another hate crime because to some, skin color isn’t just skin, it’s a sin. Another kid forced into the ugly hands of the world because of who they love. 

The degradation and damnation of a woman. Just an object. A thing. A toy. A hole. A whore. 

Where was God when children went to bed crying and bleeding due to monsters within their households? When dogs were kicked in the ribs by strangers in the middle of nowhere? When a duct-tape cardboard box, full of kittens with sparkling eyes; a box full of vibrancy, was reduced to nothingness as it sank beneath the the top of a bubbling swamp? 

How do you believe when it all spirals out of control? When the darkness blinds you and no matter how much you try to take it off, you can’t fix a severed optic nerve. There is nothing that can restore the sight once the nerve is severed.

“I have hope,” Felix finally uttered. “I read this,” he gently shook the bible, “and I try to do what’s right. In the bible, Jesus is a sinless human, but we’re not like that. We’re bound to sin and fall into temptation at one point or another.” 

“But we’re made flawless in God’s image. So why does…” Your voice cut off as a lump formed in your throat. 

You knew it was dumb. He believed what he believed and that was that. It wasn’t your place to change it, but you just didn’t understand. How could someone so easily pretend that everything was okay? The world was on fire. Sin was everywhere. How didn’t it hurt him as much as it hurt you? 

“I have those days too, you know.” He shifted the thin black string that was glued into the book binding. The thick book closed with a soft thud. The string marked the last page he was on.

“There’s a lot of nasty stuff out there, so I read the bible. I utter prayers and I believe because I have to believe that something happens to cruel people. I have to believe that the monsters will get what they deserve when it’s all said and done.” 

“I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. In fact, I don’t want to be perfect. I want to be flawed, I want to be forced to change, I want to be challenged, so I can grow. What is this life if not a constant chance to stride to be better? To do more? To be a decent person?” 

One of his hands slipped into yours. Warm fingers curled around your palm and his thumb slid along the backside of your hand. “Some days, it’s a lot for me too. I think there’s a lot we don’t understand, but this makes sense for me.” 

“You really believe that sinning sends you to hell?” 

“I don’t think God will send you to hell if you tell a little white lie now and then, but I think he will if you like to be an asshole on a daily basis. I don’t know for sure, I’m not God. This book has been rewritten so many times, but I like to think that the theme is the same.” 

“I worry that the deceased people I love are burning. I worry that they’re lost on the other side somehow. I worry about death. I worry about…” Your eyes slipped shut, but a tear fell through. “I worry about everything.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not. One of the greatest things about life is that you can pick whatever you want. You can be who you want to be and believe in whatever you want to. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.” He reached up and gently wiped the tear with his thumb. 

“You’re not going to break up with me and damn me to hell if I don’t believe in your god?” Your eyes opened to face him. 

A small smile tugged at his face and he shook his head. “That’s not who I am. As long as you’re not being a jerk and you’re happy, then why should I care? It’s not up to me to control you and you shouldn’t let anyone dictate things like that.” 

“You’ve got a good heart and a good head on your shoulders.” His hand reached up towards your face. Your breath caught in your throat and you fell hard into that pool of warm molasses. 

The sweetness of honey, warm molasses, and gentle understanding. Why couldn’t we have more of it? The kindness, the selflessness, the happiness that one inspired in others? As you stared into his eyes, you wished more people could be like him. 

“I want you to be happy. If you want to ask questions about God, I’ll try to answer them. If you don’t, that’s okay too.” He shrugged, “it’s not a big deal.” 

“How do you stay so positive when there’s so much evil in the world?” 

“I want no part of it. I like to think that maybe if I’m kind and I treat people how I want to be treated, maybe it’ll make a difference somewhere. Maybe I’ll change someone somewhere. The world could use more kindness.” 

His hand gently cupped your cheek. More tears were slipping out and he brushed them away. “There’s a lot of evil in this world, but there’s a lot of goodness too. Kindness doesn’t have to be some huge thing. It can be gifted to people in a variety of ways.” 

“Like yesterday,” he smiled, “a little girl was outside with a lemonade stand. She made signs and everything. I bought a cup of lemonade and then put a little extra money in her tip jar.”  

“She was excited and she said she was raising money for a new bike. She was so excited, she took off into her house with her pigtails bobbling.” He laughed at the memory of it. “It was so cute and it was just a simple thing, you know?” 

“That’s really sweet,” you finally responded with a sniffle. You reached up and brushed away another tear. The story pulled you from your darkened thoughts for a brief moment. 

“Life doesn’t always have to be so bad. Little things like that make a tiny difference in someone else’s life. You never know who you’ll meet or what life you’ll change with actions like that. Kindness is the best superpower that a person can have.” 

“Kindness isn’t a superpower.” 

“Hey! To me it is! I’m going to get a cape and everything. Put a logo right here.” He pounded on his chest with a fist. “Anyone can be a superhero with some kindness and understanding.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

His eyes narrowed at the sarcasm. “You don’t believe me? Hmm, that’s funny because if I said that I could cheer you up even more by offering to make my brownies…” 

“Anyone can be a superhero with kindness.” You nodded vigorously and quickly wiggled away. You squirmed to the edge of the bed and stood up. “Right, okay, let’s go.” 

He grinned and put his bible to the side. He started walking towards the door, but he stopped when your wrist captured his. A face of confusion met yours and you leaned forward. 

The sweetness of honey, warm molasses, and gentle understanding; it radiated through your body as your lips met his. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[animeyanderelover]

Can I have yandere sakamaki and mukami cast with older brother that are always gentle and treat them so nicely. But one day when they try to find him. one day, they saw their brother fighting somebody and that person saw them and tried to attack them. Reader decide to shield them using his body. In the end reader get badly injured but survive nonetheless.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, clinginess, paranoia, blood, violence, torture, death

As long as you're safe...

Shu Sakamaki

🎵 Shu just wants to hang out with his brother, the person he's closest with but strangely enough he can't find you in the mansion. Now, Shu doesn't worry his head too much, it isn't unlikely for his brother to be outside though so he simply ventures the exterior of the Sakamaki property. His keen senses pick up surely enough some noises, under them the clearly recognizable voice of his brother and that's when he suspects that something is going on and he starts running to the source of the voice, slight panic dwelling up inside his chest. When he spots you, his heart drops as he realizes that you're fighting someone, a silver knife shining in their hand as they try to stab you. Your younger brother stops for a moment in his steps, tries to work out quickly how to help you but unfortunately he's spotted by the hunter who kicks you away and switches his target, storming to him. Knife about to plunge into his chest only for you to protectively hug him, the sharp metal embedding itself in your back over and over again. The taste of your blood pungent in the air as silent yet potent shock pulses through Shu's entire body, hands flying to your back only to pull back as if he's burnt himself, palms stained in dark red.

🎵 A piercing scream fills the air when Shu grabs the arm of them when they try to stab you again, breaking it in one swift motion and kicking the knife away as soon as they let it drop. Blue eyes dark with the desire to kill as he carefully lies you down on your stomach, gaze fixed on the vampire hunter. He wants to hurt them so badly but knows that he can't waist time since you need medical treatment. One hand is wrapped around their throat as he squeezes down, a sickening crack before they go limp in his hand and he drops them carelessly before quickly turning to you, half-conscious. You give him a half-hearted grin as you compliment him on his nice murder yet Shu has other worries, doing his best to maintain his fear as he helps you to stand up, hurrying back into the mansion with you so that your injuries can be treated. He's so disappointed and frustrated with himself as he blames himself. He could have done more. If he would have acted quicker, none of this would have happened. Why is he still so incapable after all those years? He isn't a child anymore. He finds himself hovering near you after that incident a lot more, especially during the healing process of your injuries.

Reiji Sakamaki

☕ You're late for an appointment with him, a study session which Reiji likes to do with you together as a way to boast his own intelligence and gain your compliments. You're always punctual so this is definitely odd, he doesn't believe that you'd just dismiss him so there must be a reason. That's how Reiji finds himself searching for you around the mansion, passive-aggressive when none of the other brothers can answer his question of where you are at the moment. That is the point where he starts to worry as he enters the surroundings of their estate. Catching you in the middle of a fight throws him off-guard as he eyes the dagger shimmering in the moonlight and the few scratches you already have. It's the fact that you're slightly injured that disturbs him, you've always been this untouchable individual in his eyes. How can you be hurt? It's in this frozen state that the hunter attacks him only for you to shield him, knife driving itself in your chest before you kick them away with brutal strength, surely rupturing a number of organs. When you turn around to ask Reiji if he's alright, his eyes can't remove themselves from the rapidly growing blood spot on your shirt.

☕ He's in total shock as essentially his belief of this strong and untouchable brother in his head is shattered seeing him wounded like this, holding himself together despite the lethal injury. When Reiji eventually snaps out of it, he has troubles holding back his dwelling panic as he pushes you back into the mansion into his own chambers, ordering you to lay down on his bed, unbotton your shirt and let him bandage and stitch your injury. You try to overplay it, tell him it's fine which only seems to make him snap more as he nearly yells at you to do as he says, hands slightly trembling as he collects everything he needs. If even one of the other brothers tries to peek inside his room, he shouts at them to leave, composure crumbling a he spends the next hour stitching the wound together. It's a shattering experience, seeing that you aren't indestructable, soon after the insecurities come as he realises that he's the one who is responsible for your injury, for the long scar that'll be a reminder of it for eternity. It throws him into a fit of despair. He searches outside for the hunter, half-alive at this point and staring with blury eyes up at Reiji. Oh, he will make sure that this human will pay dearly for this.

Ayato Sakamaki

🥇He's rushing through the mansion, a basketball in his hands as he wants to challenge you to yet another game in hopes of beating you but can't seem to find you. It's frustrating, where are you? It's so boring without you around after all, only you can provide him with a good challenge. He gets visibly more agitated the longer he can't find you, plans to brattily yell at you as soon as he has found you because you weren't where he wanted you to be. That all is wiped off his mind when he finally does find you, in the middle of a serious fight with a vampire hunter who has sneaked inside the compound of your property. Ayato acts unfortunately without thinking as he aggressively launches at the person who dares to try to take his brother away from him, underestimating their reflexes. A knife that was intended to pierce through his stomach is instead stuck in your abdomen as you spit moments later some blood out, some of it dropping on Ayato's face. A few seconds just pass by where he sits on the ground, staring at the soaked fabric of your clothes before he sees literally red, head pounding with wrath. How dare they? How dare they?!

🥇He isn't fully himself, lost in searing anger as he grabs the hunter by their throat and pushes them to the ground, kicking and throwing them angrily around as he keeps shouting at them, his whole body shaking with rage and sadistic blood lust. You stop him after a while, point out how the human is barely alive anymore and decide to end things quickly as you break their neck, knife still stuck in your stomach. He's confused and angry, not sure what to do now as he watches his older brother picking up the basketball, tossing it to him and jokingly telling him that he fears that he can't play with his younger brother now before staggering on his feet, causing Ayato to rush over and quickly support him. Fear is pumping through his veins as he yells at his brother what he is supposed to do now before being told what to do, dragging Reiji as a result out of his own room to assist the oldest sibling in removing the knife and stopping the blood loss quickly. A part of Ayato blames himself for what happened, the other one rejects those feelings of guilt as he decides to blame anyone else besides himself. His stupid brothers, that dead hunter and even his own brother who is supposed to be the strongest.

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸 Kanato is a walking time bomb without his brother around since he is co-dependent and relies on his brother a lot. You missed a tea party with him and Teddy so he's beyond livid, clutching the plushie tightly in his arms as he storms around the mansion in search of you. How could you just ditch him?! You're a terrible older brother, you're supposed to take care of him! No matter how had he searches, he can't find you though so that only worsens his mood and soon he starts screeching your name, anger and anxiety piling up inside of him as he can't find you. It's only when he goes into the garden that he spots you and shouts your name, noticing a moment later the stranger next to you who you're fighting against. His loud and obnoxious voice draws both yours and their attention to him and as you call Kanato's name out shocked, the vampire hunter instantly switches his targets, planning to attack him and leaving Kanato clutching his Teddy even tighter. You stop them before they can reach your younger brother, although only moments later their knife is driven into your abdomen, the attacker twisting it around and eliciting a painful hiss from you.

🧸 The scent of your blood tears Kanato out of his state of shock and suddenly he's grabbing the assaulter from behind by the neck, crying and yelling at them that they should never hurt his brother and that they should die. His older brother uses the distraction to pull the knife out and ram it into their own heart, killing them. Kanato is in a frenzy though, blood lust still there as he grabs the knife and continues to stab them, tears in his eyes as he screams for them to die and it isn't until his brother pulls him back that he stops, only to cling onto his blood-stained shirt and start crying hysterically as he tries to stop the bleeding by himself, coating himself in his brother's blood as a result. You're forced to walk back with him clinging to you like a little koala, hissing and crying the moment you try to pull him off you. He isn't of good help but you luckily you can cater to your wound all by yourself, leaving Kanato with you to avoid the boy entering a frenzy mental breakdown. Needless to say, your younger brother is half-distraught and half-angry with you, his presence suffocating from that day on as he demands you to stay from now on with him, threatens to hurt himself otherwise.

Laito Sakamaki

🎹 Laito may not be as permanently clingy as some other brothers are but he still likes hanging around with you. Usually he always has a good idea of where you are so it's a bit of a surprise for him to not know where you are as of now. Well, let's find his older brother then~ Initially it's a bit like a game of hide and seek for him as he wanders through the Sakamaki property in order to find you but the fun ends when his ears pick up the noises coming from the garden, sounding like a fight is going on as he recognizes your low growls you only use when you're serious. His expression falters as he now rushes to the location the sounds are coming from only to stumble into the middle of a fight between you and a vampire hunter who somehow has gotten inside their property. He isn't as hot-blooded as Ayato would be though, green eyes observing as he hides himself to find a good opening to join you in your fight and get rid of the pest. The hunter is experienced though and spots Laito, instantly storms towards him as he recognizes that he's weaker than the other vampire he's fighting against right now. Your calmness falters for a moment as you see them attacking Laito, letting your guard down for a moment.

🎹 His brother shields him in time but the price is a knife rammed in his ribcage, taking him off-guard as his older brother stumbles back, gritting his teeth as he clutches the fresh wound, blood seeping through his clothes. Eery silence befalls the surroundings for a few moments before Laito launches at the hunter, pushing him down and giving his older brother time to grab them and restrict their movements as they drop their knife for Laito to snatch it away, glaring at it with gleaming eyes as it's covered in his brother's blood. He hears how you break the bones in their limbs and swiftly decides to join in the fun for some revenge, grinning down at the human before waving his hand, wishing them farewell before he plunges the knife into their throat, watching the life slowly leaving them. He would have loved to prolong their suffering but has little time as he helps you quickly to rush back into the mansion. He may appear fine upon first glance but is still brimming with blood lust so you have to keep him calm enough or otherwise he might actually go on a murder spread. Let's just say that after this unpleasant encounter, he's sticking a lot more to you.

Subaru Sakamaki

⬜️Subaru is very aggressive but at the same time he's very obedient as he listens to whatever his brother tells him to do if it doesn't involve hurting him or leaving him. The oldest Sakamaki boy is like the lid containing Subaru's anger so he often searches for him when he's upset or mad about something and needs to calm down. So it's quite bad that the youngest one can't find you as he starts trashing around in the mansion, destroys vases and walls the longer he looks for you without success and his brothers avoid him on sight as they know better. Now, when he finds you outside the house as you dodge and attack a vampire hunter, he instantly wants to help and protect you and resorts to violence as he storms in to assault them, triggered by the silver dagger that they try to hurt you with. They're initially caught off-guard as he pushes them away with sheer strength alone, manage to come quickly back to their senses and come back for him, using quick attacks to make him lose balance shortly before striking down with the dagger. You cover him in the last moment as the hunter slashes down your back, the heavy scent of blood filling the air and making Subaru nauseous.

⬜️There are too much emotions at once mercilessly overwhelming him. Anger, shock, panic, guilt, shame and many more he can't even decipher. His body starts shaking as he temporarily stops thinking clearly but when he snaps out of this searing haze of rage, he's smashed the head of the person with his brutal strength. He pays no mind to them afterwards though, quickly rushes to help you up and half-carries you back inside the estate, shaking with fear and panic as he doesn't know what to do now. Instead he just does what he's used too, listening to you and following your instructions. He considers dragging Reiji to your room to help you but you insist that you can handle it all on your own with his hands. His stomach is turning and twisting when he helps you cleaning the wound, hot guilt flodding his veins since he blames himself for those injuries. He knows that he's the youngest and that you're the oldest but he thought that now that he's older that he'd be able to protect you at least a little bit. Why is he still acting like the small boy from back then? The feeling of helplessness haunts him, the invasive thought that he couldn't protect his mother back then nor you now.

Ruki Mukami

📘 Ruki is protective of his family, he's lost his family by blood already once and he won't let it happen again. His older brother is his idol and aspires Ruki til this day. He initially just wants to talk with his brother about something but when he can't find him in their house, he starts panicking a bit. He's just a tad bit controlling so the fact that he doesn't know where his brother is at the moment bothers him more than it should. Afte he couldn't find you in the mansion, he heads out into the garden surrounding the place and surely enough finds you there. It brings him no relief though when he realises that a vampire hunter is also there, fighting against you as you try to win the upper hand. Ruki stops in his tracks, trying to collect himself and help you but they notice him and dash to him, the silver knight glowing under the moonlight. Ruki is sure that he could have defended himself yet you throw yourself against the hunter to keep him away from your younger brother, earning a couple of stabs in your abdomen yet still managing to strip them off all their weapons and the rest is easy play as you twist their head and snap their neck, watch how they go limp under you.

📘 Ruki is tense, trembling slightly as his eyes take in the injuries you've endured for him. You try to be as nonchalant as possible as you ask him if he's fine, earning a throaty choke from him. How can you ask him this question in your condition?! Suddenly he's rushing to you, tries to stop the numerous bleeding spots, hands shaky. When his older brother attempts to calm him down, he nearly yells at him. How can he expect him to calm down?! You're quickly brought back and all of his other brothers start making a fuss when they see your injuries, somehow pressuring Ruki even more as he escorts you to his room to give you medical treatment. He's very close to hyperventilating in that moment, his chest heaving with each troubled breath he takes as he spends the next few hours cleaning the wounds and stitching the skin back together. As soon as he has made sure that his older brother will be alright, he collapses onto the ground as his legs shortly lose all strength. This event leaves a mark on him as Ruki grows paranoid all over again. He monitors his brother closely as his body heals from all the wounds, prays that there will be no scars left since it's entirely his fault. He's such a failure.

Kou Mukami

🎤 Kou has grown significantly clingy after he's been turned alongside with all of his brothers into a vampire and he's specifically often to find around the oldest Mukami brother. There's just such a feeling of security and safety there when he's around him and Kou is low-key addicted to this warm feeling, especially when he's having one of his nightmares. Somehow he can't find you currently though and he's pouting initially a bit because of it as he doesn't instantly assume the worst. At least until he has figured out that you are nowhere inside the mansion which does make him anxious. Why would you leave without telling him or any of his other brothers? He goes outside in order to continue searching for you, his attention drawn to the noise coming from somewhere deep inside the garden. When Kou finally finds you, he realises with growing fear why he couldn't find you as you're currently going head to head with a vampire hunter who has somehow found this place. When they suddenly come for him, you act without thinking as you throw yourself between him and them, sacrifice yourself as the knife is plunged in your chest.

🎤 Kou quickly thinks and reacts, grabs them and throws them down, hands engulfing their neck before swiftly twisting it, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as much as this sickening feeling does when he turns around to you as you pull the knife out of your chest. This looks really bad, he knows that despite you trying your best to downplay it to spare him from worrying yet that only makes it worse. Kou knows that he has to get you to Ruki as quickly as possible as he assists you to get up, careful to not worsen your pain nor the bleeding. There are tears in his eyes when he brings you back into the mansion, screams for Ruki to come as quickly as possible and refuses to leave your side the entire time, choking when he sees from close the wound you received in order to protect him. He doesn't want to stray away from his brother's side after that day at all as he feels paranoid if he's gone for more than five minutes. This accident is just sheer nightmare fuel and they're very frequent the next few weeks as he dreams that his older brother really died. He's a sobbing mess every time he awakes from such dreams, shouting for you in and outside his sleep.

Yuma Mukami

🌱Yuma is arguably the chillest younger brother from the Mukami boys even if he also is the one who took the longest to accept you as his older brother. He's quite excited that day since the vegetables he planted together with you are finally ripse so he wants harvest them together with you which is why he starts searching for you, furrowing his brows when he can't find you anywhere in the house. Honestly, where are you? You may be the oldest but sometimes you're really troublesome. A thought that bites him back when he finds you outside the mansion, struggling against a vampire hunter who wanted to sneak on the property of the Mukami brothers. There are a few cuts on your skin whenever they manage to scratch your skin slightly with their weapon made out of silver. Yuma quickly comes to your help and catches them off-guard by ripping them off you and throwing you away, helping you up and barking at you how you got yourself in this problem all of a sudden. You don't get much time to answer as the hunter launches at you two again, although they're now at a disadvantage with two Impure Vampires against one human. You two nearly overwhelm them.

🌱In their last moments they get desperate, charging at Yuma with newfound ferocity which shortly throws him off-guard. You realise what they plan to do and throw yourself in the last moment in front of him, shielding him as the knife insted pierces through your ribcage. With their weapon now stuck inside of you, they're defenseless as Yuma lifts them up by their head and mercilessly crushes their skull before throwing the corpse carelessly away, grabbing his older brother as he stumbles back, knife still stuck in his skin. Even if he tries to assure his younger brother that he can walk, his false claims fall on deaf ears as he's picked up and piggybacked by Yuma who worries back to inform Ruki of what has happened. He still knows that Ruki needs space to treat the injury so he just waits outside the room, trying to keep a straight face despite the nagging fear of the injury you received. He's back to scolding you for always getting in troubles even if you're the oldest one as soon as he knows that you'll make it, warns you that you'll get nothing from the vegetables he harvested all by himself. He's joking though, tells Ruki to prepare you a bigger plate to enjoy.

Azusa Mukami

🔪 Azusa is the clingiest from the brothers as he's heavily co-dependent to the point where he struggles to make decisions for himself when his older brother isn't with him. He just doesn't know how to properly function without his cherished brother and it's something that worries you as the oldest just as much as all other Mukamis. So when Azusa can't find you, he always starts searching for you. It's one of those days again as he walks around the property, the grip on his knife tightening the longer he can't find you as anxiety eats him away from the inside. Where are you? Please come soon, he's so anxious and lonely without you. He didn't anticipate stumbling upon the middle of a battle and when he sees you, he stills out of shock. Your eyes fall upon him and widen in shock as you shout at him to quickly get away and inform your other brothers what is going on. That's when the attacker decides to go for him though, underestimating him for looking weaker than you. You don't let him though, use your enhanced speed to get between Azusa and him, hissing when you feel how they drive their knife close into your stomach, although you manage to break their leg as a result.

🔪 You struggle with your wound but so do they with their broken leg. You do your best to push them away as they try to stab you again only for Azusa to appear behind them in a flash, a dangerous glint in his normally tired eyes as he uses his own knife to stab them over and over again in the back as you secure your hold on them to allow Azusa to do as he does. With a final stab in the back of their neck, they finally go limp in your hold and you quickly push them away from you, beathing through the pain as you clutch your wound. Azusa goes down on his knees, crawls to you and clutches the bloody fabric of your clothes as he tries to somehow stop the bleeding, tremors going visibly through his body. He doesn't separate from his brother even once when both of them come back into the mansion, not even when Ruki instantly takes their oldest brother to treat the wounds on his stomach. He falls down the hole of self-harming tendencies again as he always grabs his knife as soon as he isn't with his brother which leaves the rest of his brothers little choice but let him stay with you all the time, unable to take any distance. Especially when he wants to punish himself for being at fault for your wounds.

[minnielvrr]

New Discovery

Lee: Minho Ler: Chan, Han Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is from this poll. Okay so I got a liiittle carried away with this🤭sorry if there are any spelling mistakes😅 Hope you enjoy~~🤗💖💞🩷

It had been a couple of days since Skz discovered that Minho didn’t know what tickling was. Being an only child meant that some of the experiences that might seem like second nature to people with siblings, were a whole new territory for him.

Chan stalked his prey from afar, spying on an oblivious Lino who was busy washing some dishes in the sink. He managed to sneak into the kitchen, somehow not getting found out by his target. The leader waited until Lino set down the glass he was washing, reaching to the side to grab a large metal saucepan, to set his plan in motion. Stealthily, he crept up on the kitten and quickly shoved his hands into the boy’s armpits.

Multiple things happened in the moment that followed. Minho choked on a gasp before screaming bloody murder, jerking away from Chan and dropping the saucepan onto the floor with a loud thud. Then, almost simultaneously, his knees buckled, the unfamiliar sensation sending shockwaves through his body that weakened him significantly. “Oh, you suhuhrprised meheheHEHE! CHAN HYUHUHUNG!!”

Ah, so Minho was sensitive sensitive. Chan had half expected the younger to swat him away. This was going to be so much fun! The leader eased the struggling kitten onto the kitchen floor, his legs framing the younger’s body and fingers still wiggling into soft skin. Minho was giggling crazily when the younger members rushed to the scene of the commotion.

Everyone was concerned and scared… up until Han giggled and pointed a finger at where the leader’s hands disappeared under Lino’s sweater. The second oldest was kicking his feet now, arms clamped tightly to his sides as he borrowed deeper into Chan’s embrace, hoping the strange sensations would go away.

Chan changed spots fast, looking for a satisfying reaction. He knew he would find one, given Minho’s initial response. It was just a matter of time. From Minho’s tummy, to his neck, ribs, while blowing into his ears the whole time. The poor kitten was going insane, twisting away from one hand only to be met with another on a worse spot. There was no reprieve.

“Hyung! Whahahat are youhu dohohoHOHOING?!” His whines turned to shrieks when the oldest moved his hands downwards, now kneading his lower ribs between nimble fingers that had Minho screaming out frantic laughter.

“Plehehease STAHAHAHAHAAHAAP!!” He begged, writhing against the kangaroo’s strong body and finding no escape. “You really don’t know what’s happening right now do you hyung?” Jeongin asked in wonder, eyes wide as he took in his hyung’s giggly form. “I’m tickling you Linoyaaa~. Does it feel good?~” Chan paused, noticing how the kitten’s responses were simmering down.

Something about hearing the word said out loud made him suddenly feel so vulnerable and seeing no other way to hide his reddening face, Lino shoved it his hands. But the red tips of his ears gave away everything he tried to hide from them and showed everyone how much just hearing the word affected him.

And the teasing…the teasing just made everything so much worse.

The break he got was almost as bad as the thing Chan was doing to him. So that was what tickling was. Minho couldn’t lie, it felt nice being able to laugh so much from a few wiggling fingers. But looking up at the smirks on everyone’s faces…. something told him he should keep that fact to himself, at least for now.

“You’re having fun too aren’t you Irino?” Han cooed, smooshing Lino’s face between his hands. Minho averted his eyes shyly. The ace always saw through him so easily.

“Do you want to continue baby?” Channie whispered in his ear, giggling like a hyena when Minho cringed away as even that tickled him. He nodded bashfully, flushing when everyone awwed at him. “Shut up!” He pouted, the spark of defiance returning to his eyes.

But when Chan's hands roamed over his torso, Han now scratching under his chin and all over bis neck, Lino squeaked, a soft sound of surprise. “Tickle tickle tiiickle~~ linoyaa~” Sweet giggles followed the two’s actions, stars glittering in Lino’s eyes as he squirmed around, holding onto Channie’s and Hannie’s hands. “Hehehe, nohohoho~” He squeaked out, utterly insincerely.

Eventually he couldn’t take anymore, sliding down to lay with his head on Chan’s thigh. The two let him go, Hannie tousling his hair and kissing his forehead in cuteness aggression. “Hyung you’re making it impossible for us to ever stop tickling you. Oh my god you are SO adorable!!”

Minho’s face was going to explode, his whole body felt warm from the praise and affection.

And he wanted a liiiittle more~~

“You’re too weak to ti-tickle me jelly arms,” he baited, hoping it would earn him the punishment he wanted. “You think I need to be strong to tickle you? Hyung, you melt when we were only tickling you so softly. I bet even Seungmin can hold you down right now and wreck you like this.” Han replied smugly with a glint in his eyes, Seungmin protesting indignantly in the background.

The poor lee opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to come up with a proper reply to that. Luckily, he didn’t have to as Han did indeed rise to his bait. Minho’s arms were soon pinned above his head by Chan, Hannie straddling his hips and smirking down at him.

“I’m gonna tickle you everywhere and I’m not gonna stop until I hear you begging.”

It was all very gentle in the beginning. Light tracing and soft pokes that had Minho gasping and squirming, all the while keeping an eye for any sign of distress from their cute kitten. They wanted to make sure that Minho would enjoy his first time and have as much fun as the kids were having.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to survive that, Minho taunted Jisung with a cocky, “Ihihis that the best youhu can do?” Han glared playfully down at him, now determined to make the older regret his words. He was not one to back down from a challenge. One look was exchanged and Chan was pulling Lino’s arms even higher, stretching him so much, his back remained arched up, ribs sticking out invitingly.

And Han took full advantage of that, pulling his hyung’s sweater all the way up to his neck. Minho giggled nervously. He was about to find out just how ruthless Sungie could be. He wasn’t known around the dorm as the resident tickle monster for nothing. Han’s fingers kneaded at the older’s waist and he started blowing harsh raspberries on Minho’s ribs.

Then Hannie was going deceptively easier on Minho than he had promised, blunt nails dragged over his ribs, tummy and sides, gently scratching at spots that made him flinch and writhe. Minho shivered, giggling quietly. The featherlight touches weren’t really tickling him anymore as much as it was teasing and he slowly realized that the longer Hannie kept it up, the more hypersensitive he felt.

“Wow, ahahall that brahahagging for this?” Minho taunted, smirking briefly at Hannie’s annoyed expression before it melted into a toothy smile as the tickling continued. “Oh you’re so asking for it hyung.” There was a hint of anger in the ace’s voice. Fingers plunged into his sides quickly and roughly, squeezing and pinching at the sensitive skin.

“Nonononoo! dohOHOHOHON’T dohohoo thAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIM SOHAHAHA- SOHOHOHORRY!!” The sudden intensity had the kitten bucking up, throwing his head back as he screamed out laughs. Han was really good at this. Loud squeals of mirth drowned out any teasing the younger ones threw his way as they watched from the sidelines. “What’s wrong hyung? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

This went on for a while, Han changing spots every so often to keep the lee on his toes. And Minho was helpless to stop it. Engulfed in boisterous cackles, he squeezed his eyes shut, head shaking side to side as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. “No nohohohahaha not there, ohohoho my GAHAHAHAAD. Ihihit’s sO BAD, AHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAA.”

Eventually they stopped for a break, Chan letting go of the kitten’s arms in favor of pulling him into his lap and feeding him some water. The second oldest was panting hard, heart still racing. “You okay hyung?” Hannie asked, brushing away the damp hair from Lino’s forehead. He nodded, smiling shyly at the ace.

“Good, cause I’m not done with you yet.” Minho’s eyes widened at that and he tried to crawl away in a futile attempt at escape but the two lers pulled him right back. “Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily. You asked for this, remember?” Chan mused into his ear, fingers pinching mischievously at his waist.

Minho yelped, kicking out at Han who was trying to get closer. “Do you want me to get your feet too?” Hannie asked threateningly, grabbing onto one of Minho’s ankles.

The kitten immediately went pliant, head shaking vigorously. The two lers exchanged looks at his reaction, deciding to file that info for later. They would have plenty of time to put their knowledge and skills to use. Especially now that they knew for certain that not only was Lino super ticklish, but he seemed to love it even more than Han himself did.

This time, Chan sat back with the younger kids, allowing Jisung to handle his bratty hyung. And Han went straight to business, laying Minho down on his back and straddling his thighs.

Experimentally, he placed his hands on Lino’s lower sides, fingers drumming into the bare skin. Minho giggled nervously, watching every motion of Hannie’s fingers with rapt attention. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what he felt when the ace pressed his thumbs right into his hip bone, skillfully massaging ticklish circles into the hard surface.

Lino squealed, fists clenching the fabric of his sweater to keep his hands away. Han noted with surprise. He hadn’t asked his hyung to do that and the fact that he was doing so of his own accord was just too cute.

Hannie projected that cuteness aggression into the tickling, thumbs digging in juuust right to have Minho laughing hysterically. “Tickle, tickle, tickle hyungie~~” He teased, watching amusedly as the kitten turned impossibly redder, his struggles getting more frantic at the use of the dreaded word.

“FAHAHAHAHAHACK, HAHA-HAHAHANIEHIHI IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!!” Lino bucked up and squirmed violently, all the while trying his utmost to keep his hands away. It was plain how much their cute little kitten was enjoying his new activity.

Lino didn't understand why he felt such a strong urge to twist away from Hannie's hands. He liked this, loved it even. And yet his body reflexively tried to move away.

“NAHAHAHAAHAA WA-WAHAHAHAIT HAHANNIE PLEASE!” He screeched, laughter going silent before coming back full force. “Aww begging already hyungie? I was sure you’d last a little longer.” Han smiled sadistically, drilling his fingers into Lino’s upper ribs, the kitten arching up only to come crashing back down, hands grabbing at Sungie’s ones in an attempt to ground himself.

He twisted his torso left and right but Minho found that no matter what he did, he was helpless to the ticklish sensations taking over.

“PLHEHEHEASE IHIHI CAHAHAN’T, IHI CAHAHAN’T ANYHYHYMORHOHORE,” he pleaded with teary eyes, and feeling a little sympathetic, Hannie eased up, moving his hands up to scribble lightly at Lino’s neck. Sweet giggles escaped his throat, Minho holding on to Hannie’s hands as if his life depended on it.

“Who’s your favorite dongsaeng hyung~~?” Hannie teased, fondly, cooing when Minho immediately answered in a hoarse voice, ”Youhuhu, Hanniehihie ihihis my favorite. Plehehehehease.”

And with that, Sung let up, carefully wiping the tears from his cheeks and cradling his hyung. He rocked the giggly kitten side to side, rubbing his belly to ease the tingles.

“You did so well hyung, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered quietly, kissing the top of his hyung’s head. Minho quickly fell asleep like that, a wide smile and soft blush still coloring his perfect face.

[qdrex]

TCDO ep 5

Trauma, suggestive language

How I regret it.

How I regret that this day has come.

-Dark, this doesn't lead anywhere, stop it!

-Hah... Make me.

Half an hour earlier...

-Dark? - I slightly pushed the open door to the room upstairs. It's actually Dark's work room. It was the only room in our house with a balcony with uh... Well... I wouldn't call it doors. It was more like a metallic blind? I can't name it myself. It was Dark's idea, like one of his creations, just not as murderous as the rest.

I looked around the room. There were plans for his new creations on the walls. I didn't go into this room very often, so it kind of... concerned me?

He finally noticed me. He was happy. He immediately wanted to show me what he had created so that it was finally ready. He pointed to the large robo-spider.

Ew... I hate spiders and Dark knows it. But he's actually fascinated by them.

He typed something on the computer, and a spike, red like the rest of robot's body, appeared in it's arm. Dark took it in his hand, scratched the globe with it, and in the blink of an eye it disappeared.

It just disappeared.

Foreshadowings of what Dark most likely wanted to fulfill began to appear before my eyes. The destruction, the takeover of the Internet and all the rest... Before I could talk to him about it, he was already standing next to the big machine. As soon as he was about to press the red button, I grabbed his arm.

-Dark... It's not worth it.

But he still does his thing. He wanted to click it again.

-Dark, no.

Or maybe...

Then... I felt madness build up inside me. Why the hell doesn't he ever listen?! He must ALWAYS stand his ground. I threw him on the floor. He made me angry. I tried to turn off the machine so it wouldn't tempt him anymore, but... Instead, Dark attacked. Well, maybe not entirely. He didn't hurt me, he missed.

This is enough

-Dark, stop it! Did it blow your mind?!

And he succeeded. I didn't have time to stop him, only to send him far away with a punch. The robo-virus has been sent. I have to stop this. But wait, where will it-

No... Please, just not this.

Alan. Becker.

Otherwise Noogai. A person who abused me mentally, physically and sexually.

No, I can't. I... But I have to...

Decision. The virus will spread further later. I can't let this happen. I cannot allow Dark to become a murderous killing machine.

When I finally got into Alan's computer, killed the virus, met Alan's other terrified creations, then...

Actually, I don't want to talk about it.

I lost him. Dark died. He's dead, he's fucking dead. And it's all because of that kid, that brat, it's all because of...

Enough, Chosen. That child saved your life this way. Damn, he saved everyone!

But what I do know is that now, I'm sitting where the entire battle ended, tears rolling in my eyes.

I...

lost him. The person i always cared the most about.

[xxavengingangelxx]

As the Rush Comes 1/1

Ya'll! I posted this fic a while ago. It was the post that took my Tumblr virginity. However, I was dumb back then and I'm still dumb now, honestly and I thought Tumblr had a low word limit so I removed some scenes like a director in a movie that's too long and I think that really took away from the quality of the story.

With Graves coming back, I figured now was as good a time as any to repost this. Although this time, I'm posting the whole thing. It came to me after a reading a fic by halfmothhalfman on AO3. Beginning is kinda boring but it sets things up for some good smut ;)

Summary: A female mercenary and Graves meet in a bar. @bellgraves because you asked for it ;)

Tags: Porn with plot, gun kink, hair pulling, borderline hate fucking, friends to enemies, blood and injury, shooting, top!Phillip Graves.

Tagline: You had 74 hits under your belt. A man named Phillip Graves would make 75.

TRIGGERS: Alleged/referenced child abuse, referenced suicide/self-harm, triggers for domestic violence, possible character death. MDNI, 18+ only.

-

I hate you.

That was the first sentence you said when you were 3 years old. You screamed it, shrieked it, to this towering man standing right in front of you. While you don’t remember exactly what had transpired, you know that you both were standing over your parents’ dead bodies and that your pajamas were sprayed red. The man in front of you did not know how to respond. It was almost as if he had never been around children so young.

You were perceptive like that even when you were 3 years old.

Sirens in the background seemed to pull the large man out of his reverie. You saw panic in his green eyes despite the fact that the rest of his face was covered in a black mask.

Then he took you.

***

And the rest is history. You learned from him later that he grabbed you because the police were on the way, you were clearly verbal, and you might make a good witness. He admitted later that he had not been around any children much less raised one. My childhood was a shithole, he would tell you.

He told you eventually that the initial plan was to avoid doing the ‘hit’ when you, a toddler, were in the home but that the timing had not given him any other alternative. He mentioned his boss told him that if the child, you, were in the home, to avoid doing it in front of you. But if shit hit the fan, then, hell, he said he had been given the green light to get rid of you, too.

He told you many times, sometimes when he was drunk, that there was no way he could kill any child, much less one that’s not even school age. So he did the only thing that came to him. He eliminated the witness without killing you. He couldn’t just throw you into foster care or abandon you because then you could be a witness. Plus he mentioned to you a lot that foster care was fucking awful. You learned that when you spent almost 6 months in foster care after he was accused of abuse. He’d burned your fingerprints off when you were 10 and the teachers were shocked when they tried to do a science project that involved fingerprints. You denied abuse, saying you were a disturbed child (you really were disturbed so it was half truth) who’d done it to herself. You were happy to be home with him however dysfunctional the home was.

He raised you. He raised you the only way he knew how. He actually never really abused you. Sure he’d beat the shit out of you if you acted up. You tried running away once and he almost put you in the hospital with the beatdown he gave you. He smacked you across the face if you got smart mouthed with him. You saw your first murder/hit when you were 10. But you didn’t consider that abuse. You considered it being put back in line. He raised you and taught you the only thing he knew.

Murder for hire.

He’d given you the name Raquel, after one of the avenging angels of heaven. You never knew your real name and to be honest you didn’t really give a fuck. You were apparently born in California and he hauled you all the way to the miserable, lonely town of International Falls, Minnesota to grow up. No one would bother looking in the nation’s ice box.

Businesswise, all you knew is that he was paid by someone else. He was hired by different people to do different hits. His own boss, your boss’s boss, ran a PMC on the side or so you heard. That was your goal: to be a PMC contractor. You’d been all over the world with your job with countless identities. But PMCs got to go to the really fun places. You’d sniped once or twice but wanted to do it more often.

So now you did what he did. Kinda. You’d have to work your way up the ranks. You’d been killing since you were 18. He was ‘nice’ enough to not make you kill before you were 18. Besides, you’d be fuckin’ sloppy anyway. At least when you both thought you were about 18. You did not know your actual birthday and neither did he. Neither of you gave a fuck. You had 74 hits under your belt, all done in the last 15 years. About 5 kills a year and the rest off to do whatever the hell you wanted whether that be party and get drunk (no drugs allowed or you risked getting a target put on your back) or whether it was nothing in a hotel room. You needed 100 hits to be considered for PMC.

A man named Phillip Graves would make 75.

You never asked the why. You never asked if they worked for him before and they had gone rogue. He made it a goal to not let his soldiers know about each other in case he had to order a hit on one of his own. The why was simply not important.

So, Phillip Graves. Someone above your boss had ordered the hit.

You were told to be careful, that he was the CEO of his own PMC. He was dangerous, you were told. You’d have to be on your toes.

I want to make your 75th special, he had told you. Try not to die. We could use a woman in the PMC. Ya’ll get to do stuff men can’t. And definitely do not let him recruit you. It’d be treason to me. Pays $50,000.

The hit was not ‘immediate’ which meant you needed to gather some basic information from him. When the final order came down for the hit to be carried out to “full term” you were to kill him. But not until then.

***

You initially met Phillip Graves in a bar.

You wore something revealing. A hot, tight black dress with thigh boots. Your hair curled over your shoulders and you had your fuck me makeup on. One of the ways you would attract your mark’s attention was to wear a black silicone wedding ring. And it worked this time, too.

“Your husband know you’re here?” A man with a Southern drawl called from behind you. Before you faced him your smirked to yourself.

“I’m not married,” you snapped, turning to face him.

“Coulda fooled me,” he shrugged and nodded towards the ring on your finger.

“Maybe I wear it to stop creeps like you from talking to me,”

“Ain’t gonna stop me, sweetheart,” he moved to sit on the stool next to you, removing dark aviator sunglasses. His blue eyes shone even in the low light of the bar. “Are you?” His cologne smelled intoxicating in a way. There was a slight smell of…gunpowder.

Hot motherfucker, ain’t he?

“Nope,” you replied.

“Name’s Phillip,”

“Ariel,” you lied.

“I’m just gonna ask, ma’am,” he started eyeing your body up and down without shame. “Are you for sale?”

You scoffed. In a way, you thought.

“What makes you think that?”

He huffed a laugh.

“Pardon my language but you’ve got fuck me written all over you.” His eyes focused on yours, looking for a reaction. “Hell several men in here are actively eye fucking you.”

“You mean that disgusting fuck in the corner?” you signaled to an overweight 50 year old eyeing you like you were prey. “Ugh,”

“He seems like the rapey type,” Graves added. “You can either hook up with him or me,”

“Or neither,” you rolled your eyes. “And no I’m not for sale, sir.”

“Sounds good to me because I don’t pay. If I see someone I like I get ‘em.” He paused. “Even if that means using force.”

You scoffed. The only reason you took him half seriously if because this is Phillip fucking Graves. “You come off a deployment or somethin’, man? You seem desperate.”

His blue eyes flashed anger and you could swear he was resisting the urge to smack you across the face. He seemed like the type that didn’t have a problem hitting women. Or killing them.

“It’s been longer than I’d like,” he admitted.

“Whatever,”

“Playin’ hard to get?” his blue eyes were dilated now. He liked the thrill of the chase.

“Start over,” you snapped.

You saw when he gritted his teeth. This man was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted to.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he smirked.

***

You led him back to your motel room.

You didn’t have to wait or ask for him to get things started.

He shoved you against the door, one of his hands tangling in your soft hair and the other gripping your ass in an almost bruising grip. He detangled his hands from your hair and your ass and then used them to tear your short dress from the bottom up.

“Asshole,” you breathed. “This was expensive, dick,”

He ignored you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiking you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. One of his hands went back to your hair, gripping it tight and pulling hard, causing sharp pain and making you hiss.

His teeth grazed your throat. If wanted to he could’ve ripped your throat out with his teeth. You had a fleeting thought, wondering if he’d ever done that to someone. If he had ever ripped a man’s throat out. His mouth moved to your pulse point. You felt him grin when he felt your accelerating heartrate. He bit and sucked. You were sure he’d leave bruises.

“No marks,” you retorted. “I don’t belong to you,”

“No, you do tonight,” he breathed.

He continued biting, sucking. Your boss would call you a fucking whore with a smile on his face when he saw.

You had never been afraid to sleep with the men your killed. It was weird in a fucked up kind of way. Your boss, also known as your caregiver when you were growing up, had never laid a hand on you that way but he’d mentioned many a time that women can use their looks to bait when men usually could not. It was one of the reasons he wanted to accelerate you to your 100 kills…to get you into that PMC. You’d feel a rush when you finished off men as they slept off their tirade. You’d call it a rush coming and it released only when they were dead.

Graves wouldn’t die tonight, though. But he would eventually.

Flirt, fuck, repeat until the order came in to drop him.

You were tossed on the bed roughly, bringing your mind back to the present. He finished ripping your dress open, saying something you didn’t quite get because no sooner than he tossed you on the bed he had unclasped your bra and started biting and sucking your breasts, again leaving hickies and bruises. He got lower…lower…

And lower. He made quick work of your underwear, his hot breath hitting your sex and making you sigh.

“I said, you’re sure moaning like a whore,”

And with that you wanted to hear him beg.

You shoved him, shedded the rest of your clothing and walked towards him. You then knelt in front of him and he was clearly confused by the way you went from shortly dominating the situation to submission. You knew Graves…at least enough about him…to know he got off on being in control. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun.

Your trembling fingers unbuckled his military-style belt and that was when you noticed his sidearm. You were tempted to grab it and just fucking kill him then but not yet. You didn’t have the orders. You easily worked the belt off but he grabbed his sidearm out of your reach.

You got on your haunches, appearing even smaller before him. You look at him through your bangs, through your lashes (real lashes not that fake shit), and you feel your mascara and eyeliner running, initiated by your sweat and the rain outside. You parted your lips slightly and he sighed, his blue eyes barely visible because his pupils were so dilated.

“I don’t trust you, sweetheart,” he grabs his sidearm and yanks it from the holster. Shit…you might have to kill him tonight.

You pouted, attempting to manipulate him.

“You seem like you’re into dark shit,” he grumbled as he freed his cock, the tip of it leaking precum and standing inches from your lips.

“What’s that mean?” you whispered as you licked your lips.

He aimed the sidearm at your head. “You sure as hell know what to do,” he hissed, his other hand stroking himself. “Get to it. Now.”

“Sick fuck,” you mumbled. You took him into your mouth quickly, knowing no man would willingly shoot a woman giving him head in the head or anywhere else. Teeth could be deadly to a man in more ways than one.

“No sicker n’ you,” he moaned. He kept one hand on his sidearm against your head and one hand then tangled in your hair.

You felt as he got harder and harder in your mouth. You moaned around him and he hissed, the vibration apparently rubbing him the right way. It was fucking hot. Here you were sucking cock with a gun to your head. You didn’t mind. Phillip Graves was attractive unlike most of the men you’d handled.

His hand started loosening on his sidearm and you took that as you doing your damn job right. His hips were thrusting into your face and you felt him hitting the back of your throat. Tears escaped the sides of your eyes as you almost, almost gagged.

It was at that point that he tossed the sidearm on the bed to grasp your hair with both hands. He effectively started facefucking you. But that was where you drew the line. He still had his uniform pants halfway on and you gripped the thick fabric, preventing him from bruising your throat. You stopped it all…you stopped using your tongue, stopped using your tongue piercing to get him even harder.

“Beg,” you said after you pulled away from him. His cock was angry…red.

“Bitch, you don’t get to tell me—” he grasped your hair and threw you onto the bed again. “You dress like a whore, you get treated like one.” He climbed over you. You found it hot he was still in uniform and you were totally naked. Well except for your knee boots. Hell, he still had the vest under his shirt on. “I don’t treat a lady like this, but you…”

He settled between your legs, his hot cock rubbing your entrance. You moaned like a porn star because you’d started getting wet the moment you saw him. He was hot. And the fact that you were going to end his life not long from now got you hotter. So easy to manipulate men…

He didn’t even bother preparing you. He slammed in to the hilt, making you cry out.

“Whatever, slut,” he snapped. “Take it.”

He reached for your wrists holding you down as he rammed into you. His eyes looked down on you, focusing mostly on the way your breasts bounced as he fucked you…hard.

He was hitting that special spot inside of you. One few men knew to hit. He ground against you, rubbing your clit in between you both. You had never understood women who couldn’t cum from vaginal sex. How could you not?

You wanted to break your hands free from his iron grip. You were sure he’d leave bruises on your wrists, something else for boss to tease you about. You’re fucked up, he’d likely say. But he never complained because you always got the job done.

You felt that heat building up deep inside of you as he continued his relentless thrusts. He was thrusting faster, deeper, harder. When he leaned forward and bit your lip with his teeth (and drew blood) that pushed you over the edge.

You cried out in his mouth. You finally got your hands loose, tangling them in his short hair. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as you rode out your orgasm. You moved your hands to scratch his back but you felt only unform and Kevlar, no blood like you would have liked.

He broke loose from the kiss, moving to leave another mark just under your jaw.

He followed with his own climax shortly after. You felt him throbbing inside of you and it was at that moment that you realized ya’ll hadn’t even considered safe sex. Not that you cared. Hot men got a pass on that. Ugly ass men had to wear condoms.

His breath came in hurried gasps as he rode out his own orgasm, pulsing inside of you all the while.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned. He stilled his hips and hovered over you, his dirty blonde hair ticking your breasts.

You were both hot, both sweaty, and you had several marks all over you. Proof of his dominance. It was almost like he wanted to mark you so no one else would touch you. He wanted you all to himself.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed as he pulled out of you and collapsed next to you. “I said no marks.” You observed marks on your breasts and that the bony part of your wrist already had a light blue tint, promising a bruise.

He scoffed, rolling off the bed. All he had to do was pull his pants up and secure his belt. He secured his sidearm next.

“What’re you doing about…” he trailed off.

“About what?” You sat up, your body aching in protest. You felt his essence sliding out of you and onto the cheap motel bed.

He rubbed the back of his head, suddenly appearing shy. “You know what.”

“Pregnancy?”

“I’m actually looking to settle down and have a kid,”

His eyes widened and you saw panic in his blue eyes. His blue eyes had lost the indigo color they had when he had been fucking you. You wondered if that would be the same look in his eyes when you killed him. You weren’t sure yet if you’d use a gun or a knife but the orders said the mark has to be within arm’s reach so that meant no sniping.

“Kidding,” you laughed. “I don’t want no fucking kids.” You sighed before adding, “I’ll get Plan B but I have an IUD.”

He sighed in obvious relief.

“Leaving already?” you asked as he started for the door.

“You know what kinda relationship this is gonna be,” he replied, not even bothering to turn around. He opened the door. “See you next week?”

“Count on it,” you smirked.

***

It had been exactly 30 days since you met Phillip Graves when the ‘full-term’ order came through. You’d learned the basics about him. Some of his habits, that he was ex-military, that he owned his own company although he refused to tell you where he worked.

So you met him at another that Friday night. The Friday night. You met in different places, sometimes hundreds of miles apart. But all were close to a base. The bar was usually filled with uniformed men looking to have a good time and relax. It was colder then and so you wore tight jeans with knee boots. A beanie covered your normally cascading hair. It was sleeting outside. And it was about to turn into snow.

“Hey there,” he drawled.

“Graves,” you smirked.

”It’s gonna be hard to peel you out of those jeans,” he eyed you up and down. Little did he know you did not intend to take your clothes off for him this time.

You followed the typical schedule. Some drinks and then you both left to go to the nearby motel. It’s not like you had a home to take him back to. You’d lived in hotels and motels and extended stay inns since you were 18.

It had started to snow and you watched some of the small furry white snowflakes landed in your loose curls of hair.

“After you, ma’am,” he smirked, holding the motel room door open.

“Such a gentleman,” you purred.

“Not for long,” he sneered.

You had set an alarm on your phone. You’d timed it to go off right before he dragged you to the bed like he always did at least once a week.

“Ugh, my fucking boss,” you pretended to be annoyed.

“What’d you do?”

“None of your business,” you responded to his question about what you did for a living.

“Whore out apparently,” he laughed.

You glared.

“Let me text this asshole and then we’ll get down to business,” you smiled.

“I’m gonna take a piss then,” Graves said nonchalantly as he walked to the bathroom.

Perfect.

You heard as he took care of business, flushed and then went to wash his hands. His back was to you. Foolish move.

So you grabbed a 9mm you kept in your large purse. A 9mm had more recoil than you liked but it definitely got the job done. Especially at close range. You wanted to look in his eyes when you killed him. You didn’t know why he was on a hit list but he had apparently pissed someone off badly enough to want him killed at close range. You’d have to aim for the head because he had his heavy duty tactical vest on today. The one with the wires for communication, the antenna folded several times over. It had an American flag and a patch that read B-23. You suddenly regretted you hadn’t had him use zip ties with you in your month together.

He looked in the mirror and…the cat was out of the bag.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” he laughed. “You were too good to be true.” He turned and walked towards you.

You raised the 9mm.

“Don’t do that. Don’t. Do that,” he warned. He had a different look in his eyes this time. His hand brushed his own sidearm, almost as if he didn’t take your threat seriously, like he knew he’d kill you before you ever got the chance to even try to kill him.

You scoffed. He was a military man. He knew orders were orders.

“You work with a PMC? Or are you a hired slut with a gun?”

“None of your fucking business,” you said through gritted teeth.

“No one needs to get hurt here.”

“You know one of us has to get hurt.” You paused before you added, “mortally so.”

“Let’s not do this,” he said calmly. He knew that his heavy duty vest would catch almost any bullet you fired at his chest.

You shook your head.

“Why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation?” He demanded. “It’s not.”

“You’re right it’s not,” you stood strong. “I can’t fail. I’ve never failed. He always told me I don’t want to find out what will happen to me if I fail. He just said I’d wish I was dead.”

“Leave,” he snapped. “I like you but I will hurt you if you so much as try.”

You scoffed internally because none of the men you’d killed had put a fight.

You clicked the safety off and before your finger could go from straight to curled over the trigger, he lunged.

Suddenly you found yourself flat on your back with the back of your head hitting the thin, cheap, disgusting carpet with a thud. You saw black spots in your vision. You immediately came back to lucidity. Passing out would be certain death. Or Graves escaping.

“Get off me, you asshole!” you screamed. All the extra gear he had on made him heavier than he already was and some of the gear was digging into your ribs.

He didn’t respond. Instead Graves easily straddled you and pinned you down the same way he’d held your wrists down when he’d fucked you. He leaned forward, his dirty blond hair falling over his forehead. He easily peeled your fingers off the gun and tossed it out of reach.

You shouted, “Ugh, bastard!” before you wrapped your right leg around his waist, feeling bruises forming from his gear. It was usually a lot easier for you to wrap your legs around him but not tonight. Luckily your heels gave you extra height. You dropped your heel on the small of his back, where it was not covered by the vest.

Momentarily startled, he eased his grip on your wrists. You eased your right hand out of his grasp and punched him right in the face. He full on growled with fury as he fell sideways a bit and you shook your hand from the pain, knowing you’d broken something. He stumbled again so you put your right leg in between the two of you and kicked, pushing him off you.

He stumbled, falling sideways once more. “Bitch,” he growled lowly. This was a tone you had not heard from him before. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you. I’ll watch the light leave your eyes.”

You reached for a knife you kept in your boot and taking advantage of the fact that you were both still on your knees, you lunged and sliced.

Graves almost yelped. He pressed his gloved hand to the open cut on his face. On his right cheek. It was sure to scar. Not that it would matter since you’d be killing him tonight. You’d go to his funeral. You were actually going to miss him. If only you’d sliced lower than his right cheek you would have sliced his throat.

“Motherfucking bitch,” he snarled when his fingers came back with his own blood. “Walk away!” he roared. “Last fucking chance before I rip you to shreds.”

“I told you I cant,” You replied simply. “One of doesn’t get any older than tonight.” You reached for a small pink Beretta you kept in your leather jacket pocket. It was your go-to if things got too hot. And things were HOT right now. Not sexually so but dangerously so.

He got in front of you so fast you barely registered.

How did a man that large move so quickly?!

You felt him full on punch you with a closed fist across your face and you heard a sickening, nauseating crack as blood gushed from your nose. A choked sob escaped you despite your attempts to hide it because holy shit he hit you hard. Like he would hit a man. You were losing and losing badly. You stumbled but he then gripped your right arm in a hold.

Another second and he had broken your arm…easily.

You screamed because fuck it hurt and it forced you to drop the gun.

Your boss and caregiver had forced you to be ambidextrous with all your weapons and you silently thanked him for that now.

You reached for your second to last weapon. Another knife. You got it in your left hand and sliced towards him, almost catching his throat when he again attacked you, assaulted you, almost ripped you apart (like he said he would) again. It was so close you yelled out in anger, frustration. You’ve been close two fucking times now.

Two loud bangs and flashes threw you off.

Things blacked out for a second or to and…

You were back on the floor again, on your back, your head hitting it a second time. You immediately spat and coughed blood when you tried to take a breath. You felt a red mist fall on your face and chest. Your ears were ringing, painfully so and you vision had black edges.

What the hell had happened?! Your mind went into panic, something you’d never really experienced before. Your brain switched to a more primal state of survival.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he repeated a line he’d said earlier. “You there?” he drawled as your hearing went in and out, all while painfully ringing. “That was a big mistake. It did not have to be like this.”

You barely heard him over the ringing in your ears. And…were your ears bleeding?

“Sunovabitch,” he muttered. He said you’d made a grave mistake and some dark part of your mind laughed insanely, because his last name is Graves.

“I don’t usually kill or punch women but you’re an exception to that,” he said cooly. “Fuckin’ idiot.”

You saw him blurrily but you still saw him as he picked up both your firearms and your knives. He then walked up to you. He was getting hurried in his movements. While this was a shady ass motel with gunshots all the time, he knew he couldn’t be found anywhere near there when the police eventually came.

He then grabbed your jacket and dragged you closer to the motel door. You left red streaks as he crudely hauled you. He tossed you into a corner. Probably so when he walked out you wouldn’t have a clear view on him.

“Sorry, soldier,” he commented. “Should’ve kept an eye on the 9 I made you drop earlier.” He laughed. The sadistic bastard laughed cruelly and he added, “Shot with your own sidearm.”

“Kinda a shame,” he continued, his eyes glinting as they caught the bright neon streetlight just outside your room. The blood on his face was now running down his neck, to his shoulder, staining his uniform and vest. It look bright red in places and dark red in others. “I mighta hired ya for some of my less challenging jobs.”

It was probably the first time in your adult life you started crying. You likely had a pleading look on your face. You felt tears of frustration, of pain, or red-hot anger fall from your eyes and slide down the sides of your face. They landed in your hair and they were tinged red from the coughed up blood on your face.

He slipped your Beretta into a pocket, saying, “souvenir,” as he grinned callously. You expected him to hold it to your head and finish you off. You were going to make him look at you when he killed you.

But he turned away.

“You’d better kill me,” you gasped. The effort sent you into a gasping and coughing fit and you were again covered in your own blood. You swore on your fucking life this man would die if you survived this.

He turned back towards you and easily grabbed your cellphone from your jacket pocket, kneeling beside you. He rested one of his knees on your ribs, making you really start crying. You couldn’t stop it…it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

“Unlock it,” he demanded of your phone. He held it just out of your reach, almost as if he wanted to see you suffer. “You put up a good fight but fight’s over.”

Cruel, merciless bastard.

You were dying tonight so what the hell. You used your left index finger to unlock the phone.

He creepily knew right where to go. His rust-red fingers danced over your screen, his blue eyes shining bright with the screen’s light. Your screen would likely be caked with your blood and his blood. At least you’d made the great Phillip Graves bleed.

That scar on his face would make sure he never forgot you. But then again if your survived, the scars that would litter your body (the gunshot wounds, the plates probably required to repair your arm) would make sure you didn’t forget him either.

He showed you the screen.

He had gone into your text messages and somehow found your boss’s number.

He had typed: Come get your girl’s body. -Graves

And he hit send.

“You’re very likely as good as dead,” he said before he clicked his tongue. “But if they get to you in time, stay the hell away from me.” He reached down, grasping your hair with a ferocity he had not before. He raised you off the floor and you were pretty sure you lost consciousness for more than a few seconds. But he waited for you to open your eyes again before he asked, “We clear?”

You nodded despite yourself. Hell no you intended to make him suffer if you survived.

“Good,” he drawled. “If you don’t die tonight, I’ll fucking slaughter you if I see you again.” It sounded like a promise. “I’ll have one last fuck and then I’ll paint the fucking walls with your brains.”

He got up and tossed you your cell phone on your chest. You’d seen that curiously enough, weirdly enough he had dialed 911. He stood back up. The movement of air as he stood resulted in scents of blood, sweat, cologne, and gunpowder being sent your way. Usually it was hot. Tonight it almost made you gag.

You tried to roll into the recovery position on your side and you screamed as it felt like your inside were on fire. The phone slid off your chest onto the floor.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

You ignored it. You looked for something, anything that could kill this son of a bitch. Like an attack dog you’d been conditioned since you were a child: Either finish the job or die trying. He had your Beretta and your 9mm and both knives. There was no way you could reach your last resort weapon. He was taking no chances and giving you nothing to strike back at him with. He knew you better than you gave him credit for.

Besides, he was gone.

The 911 operator kept trying to get in touch with you.

You tried to say you’d been shot but could only gasp for air, choking on your own blood. Being in the recovery position helped you not choke and gag as much but you were sure you had bad internal bleeding. You vomited the alcohol you’d recently drank, the liquid burning your inside wounds like lava. Something primal in your brain fought for survival and wanted you to reply to that 911 operator.

You set your head down on your left arm, cradling your broken right. You sniffled because fuck…fuck…FUCK. Phillip Graves had mopped the floor with you. He had beaten you within an inch of unconsciousness and then shot you. All in the span of less than 5 minutes. You’d been cocky, so sure you could manipulate him with sex and seduction. It had worked for all the other men.

But not Phillip Graves. Speak of the devil because you heard him start his pickup truck parked just outside the motel room window.

You opened your eyes again, not knowing how much time had passed. You then noticed something…your 9mm. You thought you were hallucinating so you tentatively reached out for it, choking back a sob of pain and misery. You’d been crying at this point so you gave up on trying to hold back tears. You gripped it with trembling, bloody, sticky fingers. So he hadn’t taken it. When did he drop it or set it down? You had no idea.

“I’m sending police and ambulance to your location,” the 911 operator’s voice echoed in your head and it seemed to reverberate forever.

You ignored her. You grasped the gun and pointed it to the left side of your head on your temple. You angled the gun downwards because you knew that made it more likely for the bullet to take out the basic part of your brain that controlled breathing and heartrate and blood pressure. You squeezed your eyes and pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened. You then saw that the son of a bitch had ejected the clip and the bullet from the chamber.

“Motherfucker,” you whimpered in a whisper.

Your phone dinged. A text message.

You better fucking explain yourself, Raq. What the hell kinda message was that? You lazily read the text message from your boss. Graves better be KIA. Another text bubble. Just because you grew up with me doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass and put you back in line if you failed me. You couldn’t reply and didn’t want to. A phone call from your boss. Another text message as you wavered in and out of consciousness. You blinked through tears and saw him text again. Answer your fucking phone. Yet another text bubble. You’re pissing me off, Raq. Answer me. I need a sit rep.

Oh well. You were likely going to bleed out anyway.

A fucked up end to a fucked up life. If by some miracle you survived, you might have to go rogue. Missing in action because there would be a hit on you for the failed job. Phillip fuckin Graves would die if you survived. That much you promised yourself.

But you were dying. Fast.

At least it was looking like you wouldn’t find out what happened if you failed.

***

I honestly don't know if she's alive or dead ;)

[hannahwatcheshorror]

CHILD'S PLAY 3 (1991)

Chucky is back again and ready to steal another child's soul. “Just think, Chucky’s gonna be a bro.” Yeah, about that. This movie takes place at a military school so be prepared for heavy military influence. Interesting take on a Chucky film but certainly a downgrade from 1 & 2. Less of the good special effects we’ve come to know and laugh at, I mean, love. But really this feels like more of a grab on the name of Chucky than an inspired movie.

⭐⭐.5

Trigger Warning Mild Racism

8 years in the future, Chucky is somehow melted back to life? And he still wants Andy? Even though it was established in the last movie that he is stuck in his doll body, I thought? Okay, even Chucky notices this and picks a new kid (Tyler) to tell his secret to because he thinks he can steal his soul even easier (since this kid doesn’t know Chucky is so fucky, ya know?) But he still wants to go after Andy because he hates that kid (now teen). 

Some Military school bully finds Andy and Chucky fighting and assumes it's just Andy playing with a doll so makes fun of him then steals the doll. Andy sneaks into the bullies room at night so carefully not to wake him but all I can think about is watching out for Chucky who will literally murder everyone without hesitation, seriously, what are you doing, Andy? Chucky catches him by surprise then escapes.

Chucky is able to kill two military dudes (one by heart attack and the other by surprise throat slash, decent enough) before the War Games where he replaces the paint ammo with real bullets! Our bully gets shot through the heart and Chucky is to blame (he gives love a bad name!) and Andy’s roommate bodies a grenade for the group. Rough going all around but then Tyler is able to escape to the carnival for like half a second before Chucky is on his case again.

They go into the haunted house attraction which is also a ride and honestly if I want to watch a stressful romp through a functioning ride against a creepy villain I’ll rewatch The Bob’s Burgers Movie. This was a little too fantastical for my tastes, everything up until this point I bought with a big grain of salt but these kids would have been squashed flat by these ride mechanics

After a lot of fucking around, Chucky dies by turning into (still patent pending) Chucky Chunks again but this time they are much more bloody and don’t get all over Andy. It appears that the kids are safe again as it ends with people cleaning up the absolute MESS the carnival left behind in complete darkness? Like they couldn’t leave a light on for the cleaning crew? This movie tried to be too deep with the military kid sacrificing himself for his friends, I mean, it’s Child’s Play 3 for goodness sake, no need to jump the shark or throw yourself on the grenade but I guess it happened.

[never-seen-again]

Apologies but I'm being very gay right now. I've read like, half the michie fanfic on AO3 (it's like, eleven of the forty seven, so closer to a fifth [not accounting for background Michie in other fics though, so who knows]).

I'm going to talk about some of those fics, so if you either don't care or don't want to be spoiled for them I'm going to put in a break thingy. Never done that before so sorry if I fuck it up.

So, most of these are what I'd consider to be fix-it fics, like, max doesn't die in the Waylon place. Typically because Richie instinctively grabs max. Some have Richie have an instance of hysterical strength ("See it Fall, Child of War" by jayren404) or blame it on adrenaline ("Nerdy Prudes Are Cool" by InPrisonForSparkling), another has Richie buy precious few seconds enough for the other nerdy prudes to help pull max up ("Won't you pray for me?" By Whowillprayforyou).

All three are great, love 'em. However another work by Whowillprayforyou grabbed me and shook me like a ragdoll: "The Consequence of what you've done"

Here Richie gets bathroom murdered by max, rises as a ghost just like max, and gets a bit mindfucked about the whole 'none of my friends noticed or really cared I died for longer than the conversation they learned about it. And it sorta implies that Richie helps kill Ruth. The drama. The action. The bloodshed.

Anyway, got me thinking about ghost Michie. And like, the absolute clusterfuck of Richie trying to save max, but getting dragged down with him. High stress for the living as now there's two deaths to deal with, but also now max isn't dealing with undeath alone.

I like the dynamics this brings about too. You get Richie who still is wondering why he tried to save max, but now with the guilt of failing to, and also burdening his friends with his death. Max might not even flip on the nerdy prudes in death, since one of them died right along with him, grieving right along side Max for the two weeks leading up to where he hit his breaking point originally. Max might end up struggling with no longer holding power over Richie, since as ghosts they've been somewhat equalized, even if he was going to lessen his hold on the nerds anyway. (Richie totally gets a hang of the ghostly powers first, max learns how to effect the living world first though). Max might finally open up about things alluded to in the musical.

Anyway to get back on track. I think I'm going to write Michie fanfiction. Have I written fanfiction before? no. Am I good at writing dialogue? also no. Is it going to be so very gay? yes.

(also, honorable fanfic mention to "Nerdy Prudes...Can Thrive?" By CloakedApprentice, peter grabs max in this one, having been right next to him, and it's just really cute)

[my-makeshift-masquerade]

hey i wanna see a lil thing where adult reader is having a quiet meltdown at a family member's birthday party bc of sensory overload (perhaps auditory) but is trying not to ruin the party thus gone to their own corner, and spring bonnie notices

(fluff preferred bc it's me but do what's more natural)

please and ty <3

(Sorry I am so late, Spike! I gotcha friendo! This drabble is gonna be named after my dad’s favorite song of all time by Depeche Mode. I’ve decided… I would’ve made this way fluffier and played into that song inspiration more but the scenario didn’t really allow for it… Either way I hope you…)

Enjoy the Silence

Why? Why did your little cousin want to go to this place?!

Everything was too loud! The screeching banshees called children were running around your legs… Angsty teens all the while obnoxiously teasing them from the halls… Meanwhile the other adults kept up their meaningless chattering… Not to mention the kiddie songs playing on loop for the past hour and a half. They should use this as a tactic to torture criminals… You’d confess to a murder you didn’t even commit just to get out of here right now.

Your aunt looked at you with a pressuring stare as you tried once again to slowly back away to the exit. The party was only halfway done. They hadn’t even done cake and presents yet. Who were you to ruin a kid’s birthday party with your slowly escalating migraine? The other adults tolerated fine, so you could handle yourself for just a little longer… Right. Right?

You saw some little boy with a bear crying as he tugged on the security guard’s hand. The guard knelt down and picked up the child, pressing one ear against his chest and covering the other with his hand. Initially you were upset by the noise the kid made, but that poor little dude must have found this all way too loud as well… Can’t blame him.

The man caught you staring and raised an eyebrow, icy blue eyes flickering in curiosity. It made you look away and resort to walking to one of the back halls. The guard was tracking your movements, probably suspicious of you messing with something. You didn’t realize this hallway wasn’t the one customers were supposed to enter, as you saw a group of teens with candy cigarettes at the end of the corridor. They didn’t seem to care about your presence.

You stayed in the corner opening up to the party area, watching as the guard passed you with the boy in tow. He seemed to look you over, pause, then nod his head slightly in acknowledgement, as if knowing why you were here. The boy didn’t make eye contact with you, too focused on the bear in his arms. It alarmed you that the guard took the child to one of the back rooms, but then you took a step back and assumed that must just be his child.

Your cousin’s wailing was heard from the party area as someone else took a turn on a game before them, and you were beginning to lose your composure. Now every sound took you one step closer to overload. Every word spoken, every buzz of the florescent lights, every single beat in that same stupid kiddie song. It all became too much. You pressed your hands against your ears and stayed at the corner of the entrance to the hallway. A few staff members and now the teenagers looked at you funny, but it was at least a little quieter over here.

You needed the noise to stop. You needed it NOW.

“Are you alright, pal?”

You nearly fell over into a bunch of balloons. The figure was inches away from you. It was the goofy rabbit robot from the stage. What the fuck was it doing back here?!

“Careful—“ A cold metal hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back up, but in the process…

POP!

A balloon must have come into contact with a sharp piece of the rabbit’s hand, popping instantly. It was quiet for a moment apart from the music… Then one by one, every child started crying or exclaiming, and all the parents rushed to calm them. A cacophony of chaotic emotions and voices dominated even the loud kiddie tunes in volume. All the while the robot bear alone on stage went through the same motions.

“…Oops…” The animatronic murmured in a sort of surprised defeat, turning to you, “Follow me to the back… Those rooms are soundproof.”

You didn’t think twice and let yourself be led by the hand to one of the back rooms of this shoddy establishment. It smelled like sweat and pizza grease, with the lingering stench of something metallic. But oh was the quiet in this room the most beautiful music you ever heard… You sighed in relief and took a few deep breaths.

“That’s a lot better, isn’t it?” The rabbit tilted their head almost mechanically.

“God yeah…” You murmured, “Thanks…”

They couldn’t smile, but their jaw closed a bit as if to give off an impression they could. They had their arms open, as if expecting a hug.

Oh right… Kid’s mascot. This thing probably always expected people to get touchy. You were surprised at how gently it held you when you invited it to. It actually was a welcome feeling…? You sighed, shaking your head.

“Great. My cousin is gonna say this is the worst party ever now…” You covered one of your eyes with a hand, trying to block out light and ease the migraine.

“Aw, gosh… I don’t think so…” The rabbit spoke, establishing space between you both again, “They looked like they were having a blast out there!”

“R-really?” You frowned, “They’re a bit of a brat… Anything not perfect on their birthday could set them off into a tantrum. I didn’t want to ruin their party by leaving—“

“You didn’t ruin their party! It’s not even over yet, silly!” The automaton rabbit reassured you, “It settles down after the first half. Trust me… Once the little buggers have pizza, cake and ice cream in them, they start getting groggy…”

“Yeah… I guess…” You sighed, looking around at all the spare robotic parts in the room curiously now that your mind was clearer, “I…I think I am ready to go back now.”

“Let’s see…” The animatronic opened the door to hear the announcement for everyone to gather around for cake and the birthday song, “Oh, dear! I’m late— I need to get back on stage before—“

“There you are. Why did you leave the stage? Run along before they start without you…” A stern but almost threatening voice came from outside as the animatronic gave you one last look and left to take their place.

You got up to leave the room, bumping into the guard from before.

“Well, I see you got a backstage tour from Spring Bonnie… ” The same voice said with a snide tone, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Sorry, sir…” You dusted off your pants, “I got overwhelmed by the noise and they were just trying to help me. Please don’t fire them.”

“Fire them?” The man laughed, as if your statement was somehow utterly ridiculous, “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly do that…”

“But… But wasn’t that one of your employees in a cos—“

“We make some real magic happen here at Fredbear’s Family Diner.” He winked, turning away, “Now if you’ll excuse me, my son also has issues with sensory overload and I ought to check on him in my office…”

You made your way back out to the party area and saw your little cousin happily blowing out candles. Getting close to the stage, you saw that in fact there was no sign of a person in that rabbit. There was no way that was just a robot? It was way too intelligent!

The rabbit winked at you before seemingly not acknowledging your existence for the rest of the day.

[imagines--galore]

hello! i see you write for sherlock! i was thinking maybe serial killer!reader x sherlock...

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: M. Romance. Thriller. Murder. Fair warnings the story is going to deal with a lot of things such as sexual assault, murder, abuse, trauma, blood, death and a ton of other stuff. But don't worry! There is also plenty of pinning, lovey dovey, and all things romance crammed in this request as well. Also reader is more of a vigilante serial killer so…..yeah A/N: .............Holy ****! When I tell you my brain EXPLODED with ideas for this little suggestion! Erm.....also this got a bit long.......oopsies? I'm actually really proud of what I've written here :3 Hope you guys like it!!!!! Please tell me if you did!!!!

You stood over your latest victim, watching as he tried to crawl away from you. You were at your leisure as you were aware that there was no way he would be getting away.

"You're doing the same thing she did Mr. Miles. She told me how she tried to crawl away from you after you beat her senseless."

You walked forward, not even bothered by the blood that smeared the floor as the man tried to get away. You stopped once you stepped on his hand, watching in satisfaction as he whimpered in pain as you attempted to break a few digits.

"Let me go. Please. Please. Let me go." You let out a little laugh as you played with the sharp edge of the knife that you were holding.

"Oh my! Word for word. Just like she said when you raped her." You allowed him to pull his hand back as he turned over to lie on his back, unable to get any further.

Probably due to the blood loss from where he had been castrated by you not more then ten minutes ago.

"Please, I have children." He begged to which you scoffed. "The children you beat. The children who's mother you raped and beat until she was put in the hospital."

You leaned down, grabbing the man under his arms and hauling him up into a nearby chair. The piece of furniture was the only thing in the otherwise bare and darkened room. The man cried out because of the pain, but remained upright.

You stood in front of him, eyes gleaming with a deadly fire as you raised your knife.

"They're better off without you Mr. Miles." He let out a sob as he stared back into your cold eyes, his own full of fear.

"Who are you?" He breathed, unable to look away from your face as you stood to your full height. The knife in your hand gleamed wickedly.

"Your worst nightmare."

When you walked out of the shed, his screams and pleas of mercy were still ringing in your ears.

Despite the fact that he had been dead for nearly half an hour.

                                             ————————–

You sighed as you slumped into your chair, hand massaging the back of your neck as you blinked at the lights above.

"Long day?" Your closest friend at work, Mary, asked as she looked up from where she had been reading over a chart for a patient. "Try long week." You responded, allowing your body to stretch with your arms in the air to pop a muscle in your back.

"Its the flu season so mothers are coming in left right and center with their little ones." You added as a way of explanation, shaking your head at the thought of the many first time mothers you had helped calm down. To you it was a sign of good parenting, seeing them get so worked up about their child who just had a minor cold.

You glanced at your watch. Only a few more minutes before your shift was over. Maybe you could take the time to catch up with Mary. "So! You didn't tell me what happened with that handsome army doctor you've been going out with. Has he proposed yet?" You asked with a teasing smile as you cradled your chin in your hands, elbows resting on your knees.

She gave a little laugh. "Oh we're getting close to the proposal. His friend coming back put a little detour on his plans, but once their reacquainted he'll pop the question." You sighed in envy.

"Thats what I admire so much about you Mary. You're just so confident that he is." The woman grinned and threw you a wink. "Well he can't get any better then this, so of course he will be settling for the best."

Laughing lightly under your breath, you began to gather your things, making sure you didn't leave your phone behind as you had often done in the past.

Just then the small television that Mary had on for background noise burst into Breaking News. The both of you turned your attention to the screen as the anchor announced how yet another body had been discovered, castrated and left after the male died.

"Looks like we have a serial killer on our hand." Mary said in a soft voice, prompting you to purse your lips and nod in agreement. "Whoever this person is, they're really covering their tracks." You said as they showed the picture of the man you had killed a week ago.

Mary glanced at you, taking in the tense expression on your face and the way your eyes were glued to the screen. Reaching out she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry love, the killer is only targeting men. And according to very credible resources that I have." She leaned forward as if she were sharing a secret.

"The men that were killed, they weren't really good men themselves. So far, every single one of them has had a rape allegation against them, which all of them dodged because of crummy evidence, bad lawyers, blackmail and money." You watched as she glanced at the screen once more. "My John and his friend Sherlock, you know the famous detective?" You gave a little nod of acknowledgement.

"Well they're both on the case since the Scotland Yard was having trouble finding the killer." You frowned. "But if they find the killer will they be sent to jail?" You asked to which Mary gave a small shrug. "Honestly, they're doing what the legal system could not, taking monsters out of the streets. But of course, the law won't see it that way."

You glanced at Mary before looking at the screen once again, now filled with the pictures of all the men you had killed.

"Yeah." You echoed. "They won't."

Which is why you did what you did.

                                             ————————–

Sherlock was staring intently at the floor where he had laid out pictures, news-clippings, police reports, hospital reports, anything that could help him connect the victims with one another.

This killer, whoever they were, was not like anyone he had ever encountered before.

For one they were smart, smart enough to not leave a single trace of evidence behind.

Second they killed their victim in a place where the latter would frequent. Most of these locations were out of the way, making it convenient for them to be killed.

The only thing so far, that was connecting the victims, was the fact that they had an allegation of rape filed against them in the past. Sherlock had to dig really deep to get some of the files since they had been wiped from the system. He had a suspicion that it had something to do with corruption in the justice legal system, but he wasn't about to dive into that at the moment.

He could always send what he had deduced to Mycroft but perhaps later.

"Any luck?" John asked, walking into the flat with fresh Chinese take out. Sherlock didn't bother with a reply, his mind racing as he tried to come up with something, anything that would help him solve the case.

"Nothing. Nothing that would link all these men together other then the rape allegations for which none of them served any time." Sherlock was starting to feel just a little frustrated at the seemingly unsolvable puzzle. "Six victims in two months, all of them castrated yet killed off in different ways." He began to list them off. "The first poisoned, the second strangled, the third a knife through the heart, the fourth a bullet to the chest, the fifth a bullet to the head and the latest was left to bleed out slowly." The consulting detective glanced at the pictures of the dead men. “Can’t even trace the weapon back to the owner since they were all purchased in bills and were wiped clean of any prints.

"Obviously these were all killings fueled by revenge or justice, perhaps a mixture of sorts." He mumbled under his breath as John began to polish off the dumplings. "Because they were all castrated?" The former army doctor asked at which Sherlock nodded. "Whoever our killer is they're doing this out of revenge for perhaps what happened to them, or someone they love. And I am beginning to believe that this is the work of a woman."

"What makes you say that?" John asked, eyes going over the pictures of the victims dead bodies. "There is a lot of emotion behind these killings. And only a woman is capable of feeling something so deeply." Sherlock glanced up at the doctor who raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't let Mary hear you say that." He stated seriously, at which Sherlock waved a hand in a dismissive manner.

"It is only for this situation that I am applying such a hypothesis Watson. I am well aware of men over-reacting more then women do." His blue gaze turned back to the mind map in front of him.

“Like you.” The Doctor mumbled under his breath.

Moving to grab a box of stir-fry, John glanced at the hospital reports, that Sherlock had set aside, on the table. They were the ones the rape victims had given to the police when they were first brought in the hospital.

"Huh? Seems this girl went to the hospital Mary works at." He stated in an off-handed manner. "St. Gemma." Almost as if a string had pulled, Sherlock's head snapped in the direction of his friend. "St. Gemma?" All of a sudden, the detective was frantically riffling through the files of each rape victim. And in each file he found the same logo stamped in the right hand corner of the page of the same hospital.

"This is it John! The hospital! That's the link!" He waved the papers in the air as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. "Every single one of these women were taken to this hospital after the rape, meaning our killer is someone at the hospital."

John frowned before shaking his head. "A serial killer working at a hospital? Don't be daft Sherlock, every person working there with a medical degree has taken an oath to never take a life." Sherlock shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We should have Lestrade screen everyone, from the head of the hospital down to the janitor."

He threw the papers in the air as he rushed to pull on his coat and scarf, nearly vibrating with excitement. John quickly shoved his chopsticks in the take out box of his half-eaten stir-fry and quickly followed after the already retreating figure of the detective.

"And with Mary working there, we have ourselves a man on the inside." Sherlock added as he bounded down the stairs.

"Woman." John quickly corrected him at which Sherlock rolled his eyes before hailing a cab.

"Semantics."

                                             ————————–

If it were physically possible, your eyes would be flashing red with pure and utter anger as you tried to calm the near hysterical girl that had been brought it.

She was so young, younger then you at least. And she had just been a victim of rape. By two teenagers no less, from what she had told the story. You did your best to calm the girl down, getting her water to drink and even administrating some sleep drug into her system so she could calm down somewhat, after the police had taken their statement.

Taking out your phone, you quickly typed in the girl's name as well as he names of the two boys she had given. They were from the same school as she was, and God help them if they got away with the heinous crime they had committed.

You would be paying them a visit if they did.

Your mind was still reeling with the possibility of your next target, but for now you had to keep a calm and cool head. There would be a trial since there was more then enough evidence to implicate the two boys, but you had lost your faith in the justice system a long time ago.

It had failed your mother and then it had failed your sister.

And you were not about to let anyone else get away with ruining another person's life.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Sighing to yourself you leaned against a wall, head in your hand, trying your best to take a calming breath before you were to speak with Mary. The two of you had decided on a little dinner date, and you were looking forward to just having some normal time with your friend.

"Mary! Lets go! I'm starving and if I’m not fed soon I will eat the next thing that comes in front of me." You said as you walked through the door of your shared office space. What you hadn't been expecting was another person just standing at the entrance, causing you to bump straight into them and loose your footing.

You would've fallen, if it weren't for the person, man, reaching out to catch you with an arm around your middle. Your own hands flew out to grasp his shoulders, in an effort to steady yourself.

Your lips were parted in a silent gasp, your eyes wide at being caught off-guard.

Y/C/E met blue and if it weren't for Mary calling out to ask if you were alright, you were sure you would've lost yourself in the varying shades of blue that you were able to pick up with just one look.

"I'm fine." You said, stepping away from the man, neither of you breaking eye-contact as you did. His gaze was rather intense, as if he were scrutinizing your every move, even the way you breathed. You raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"You know, when a person enters a room they are expected to move away from the door to allow other people to walk in." You stated in a dry tone, before turning your attention to the other two occupants in the room.

Despite the fact that you wanted to keep looking at the gorgeous man you had bumped into.

Mary was grinning like an idiot, prompting you to roll your eyes, knowing exactly what ran through her scheming mind. The man next to her stood with an air of authority and the stance of a soldier. "You must be Dr. John Watson. Nice to see Mary didn't just make you up." You said, reaching out to gently bump your shoulder against your friend who gave you an offended look.

He gave you a warm smile, and you instantly liked him as you shook his hand. "And you're Y/N Y/L/N, Mary has told me all about you." You grinned about to reply when the other man cut in.

"Yes, yes we would all love to sit around drink tea and play house guest, but we do not have time Watson." He sounded irritated, probably at being ignored by the woman he had bumped into.

Though he would rather gouge his own eyes out then admit he was effected in such a manner. You glowered at the consulting detective. "Nice to see you keep such polite company Mary." You said, prompting your friend to give a small laugh as she looped her arm through yours.

"Would love to stay and chat boys, but Y/N gets cranky when shes hungry, so I shall see you later." With that she began to lead you out of the room. "It was nice meeting you John!" You called over your shoulder to which he replied, "Likewise."

As for the other man, you gave him a once over that was almost dismissive in nature. "Holmes." Who else could it be other then the famous Sherlock Holmes.

He stood taller, returning your haughty gaze with his own. "Y/L/N."

The exchange was one that would be imprinted in your mind for days to come, as it would be in his.

Though it didn't stop Mary from teasing you about it all through dinner.

                                             ————————–

Your kill streak had died down. For some reason the legal system seemed to be doing what they were supposed to and putting every monster they encountered behind bars.

Perhaps your message had gotten through to them.

Either they take care of justice themselves or you would take it in your own hands.

The Castrator, the media had begun to call you once the details of your kills had been leaked. And it seemed your actions had given victims of rape the strength to come forward and name their attackers, which had led to a surge of people being either shipped off to jail, or being put under investigation.

Whatever had happened, you were feeling more like yourself then ever before. And you were beginning to live a somewhat normal life as well.

All thanks to Mary.

You hadn't expected her to become something of an older sister to you in a span of the few months you knew her. And yet here you were, happily helping her plan her wedding with John and enjoying every moment of it.

The two of you would go shopping, go over the catering, the guest list and everything else in-between. Of course John was always there. He was the groom and his opinion mattered.

Somewhat.

And then there was Sherlock.

At first he had been extremely moody and snappish, a trait he adopted when a case he was working went cold. That case being that of The Catrator. According to him, the killer seemed to have cooled off for now, prompting them to take a step back from killing.

However, that meant he would now turn his undivided attention to helping Mary and John plan the perfect wedding.

Plans over which you and him would butt heads on more then one occasion.

You would both fight both sides of the argument, bouncing facts and opinions off each other as if you had rehearsed it beforehand. Mary and John would stare, amazed to the very core as the two of you would start an argument before settling it yourself by giving logical reasoning. Sometimes Sherlock would win, and sometimes you would win.

Whatever it was, it was fascinating to watch the two of you interact.

Or flirt, as Mary had once put it, prompting you to throw a carefully folded napkin at her head.

                                             ————————–

The day Mary asked you to be her Maid of Honor was truly one of the happiest of your life.

You had embraced the woman within an inch of your life, before entering 221 B to share the news with John and Sherlock. Only to find Sherlock standing there in an almost catatonic like state, holding a cup of tea in his hand and looking at John as if he were a creature from another world.

"Whats with him?" You asked as you removed your coat to reveal the turtle neck dress you had pulled on that morning, paired with knee high boots.

John smacked his lips, barely looking up from where he was reading the news. "I asked him to be my best man while also stating that he's my best friend." Mary, who had stooped to give her fiancée a kiss to the cheek gave a light gasp.

"John! I told you not to break him!" She said, shock and amusement shining in her eyes as she turned her attention to the still Sherlock. Wanting to have your own fun, you peered at him as you stood beside him. "Think we can finally get a day's peace with him like that?" You asked, giggling to yourself as your eyes lightened with mischief.

Without further ado, you quickly raced off to his room, and after a few seconds of rummaging, walked out wearing one of his favorite dressing gowns. "You know I can see why he likes them so much. Gives him a more dramatic flare." You threw out the sides of the gown as if it were a cape, prompting both John and Mary to burst out laughing.

"It is called comfort, Y/N. And put that back." You scowled, pulling the gown off and throwing it in his face. He caught the fabric deftly before it had time to smack him in the face.

"So Sherlock? How does it feel to know you're somebody's best friend?" You asked, wanting to tease him further as you managed to sit atop the table despite the clutter.

"Ecstatic." He stated in a robotic tone, before moving to set down his untouched tea and striding to the living room to begin planning.

Your gaze flitted to the eyeball that was swimming in the liquid.

"Please tell me he drank from that." You said, your eyes gleaming with laughter as you glanced at John. His expression was enough to cause you to burst out into laughter as you followed after Sherlock in the living room.

You certainly didn't miss the way Sherlock blushed from embarrassment.

Though it did surprise you how much more pleasant and sweet you had been to the man. Oh, neither of you had held back on your arguing and bickering and reasoning.

Yet there was a certain softness to both of your tones, almost a tenderness to it that neither of you would admit was there.

                                             ————————–

Bridesmaid dresses.

The one item on your to do list as a maid of honor that was eating you alive. You had narrowed the colors of the dresses down to three, but you were still undecided.

Which was why you, Mary and somehow Sherlock were sitting in a bridal shop as you tried on dress after dress. Mary was giving you her undivided attention, while Sherlock was busy on his phone, most likely solving a case. Every now and then, when you would walk out wearing a new dress, he would make a negative comment about whatever you were wearing, making you try and argue back to which he would simply justify his reasoning.

And though you didn't want to admit it, he was always right.

Tired and a little grumpy, you exited the changing rooms in one more dress.

"What do you think about this one?" You said, giving a little twirl to allow the skirts of the skirt to flow about your legs. Mary gave a nod and smile of approval. Sherlock barely glanced up.

"The color washes you out."

Your temper flared and you practically growled at him as you snatched the phone from his hand. "Thats it! Everything is either too long or too short, or too conservative or not revealing enough, or the color washes me out or it makes my complexion seem dark." You poked a finger to his chest.

"Why don't you pick out something that you think will suit me and we can be done with this entire thing, because I'm getting bloody tired." Sherlock continued to look at you for a good few moments, but you didn't allow your gaze to falter as you stared back in defiance.

Finally he moved away, disappearing in the racks before returning with a dress within minutes.

"Here. Try this." He threw the dress in your direction, which you quickly caught and stomped off to try.

A few minutes later, having adjusted the dress to fit your body, you emerged from the changing room to stand in front of your friends. "Well?" You asked. You hadn't felt nervous when you had been trying on all the other dresses. But this was a dress Sherlock had picked out, and in the deepest parts of your cold heart, you wanted him to say something nice to you about it.

Mary clapped her hands in delight. "Oh! It looks beautiful on you Y/N." She said, smiling from ear to ear. You smiled at her before turning your gaze to Sherlock and looking at him expectantly.

He was staring at you, that much anyone could see. The intensity in his gaze caused you to shiver involuntarily, but you didn't look away. "It looks......acceptable." He finally said.

Mary let out a loud groan before lightly hitting Sherlock's shoulder. "Oh for God's sake Sherlock! Just tell the girl she looks gorgeous!" She exclaimed, noticing how your face fell just a little at the less than stellar compliment you had received.

Sherlock straightened as he frowned at Mary. "Beauty is a social construct. It’s based on society's ideas that have been ingrained into our systems and our psyches over time and have been accepted as the norm. I prefer to see Beauty as something that is in the eyes of the beholder." In the middle of his little speech you had moved to stand in front of him. Your gaze flickered to Mary, who seemed to give an encouraging nod.

You swallowed your nerves before speaking. "And what do your eyes beheld?" You asked, feeling shy and nervous at the same time as you met his cerulean gaze.

He looked back at you, with the same intensity that had been in your eyes when you had first walked out wearing the dress. He slowly stood so he was standing directly in front of you. Of course he had to tower over you given his height. But you found you liked it, as you tilted your head back to look at him.

"That you look ethereal."

The last word was barely out of his mouth before you felt a blush heating your entire face as you stared at him, stunned.

As if he had realized what he just said, and gathering his wits about him, Sherlock strode out of the shop. But not before he stopped at the window display in front of which you had been parading out in dresses.

Your eyes met through the clear glass, with a gentle yet hopeful smile playing about your lips. Sherlock's gaze seemed to soften as well as he looked at you through the glass. The moment only lasted for a few seconds before he walked off, leaving behind an ecstatic you and a stunned Mary.

                                             ————————–

You glared at the man in front of you before aiming a kick to his torso yet again.

"You raped her and then killed her to make sure she stayed quiet." Another kick, followed by a loud groan from the almost prone figure that lay on the carpeted floor. "You don't deserve an early death like the others did."

Another kick to his chest that sent him wheezing. You had definitely felt something move this time and knew you had at least cracked a rib. Still that did not stop you, not as you continued to kick him, your home-made steel tipped shoes allowing you to land one heavy blow after another.

You had already castrated him, now the only job was to finish him.

"You thought you could get away? That you would get off just because she died?!" The young victim had died on your watch. And despite knowing the man would go to jail given the evidence against him, you had snapped. He had stolen away the woman's life by beating her senseless.

Just like the man who had stolen your sister from you.

You stopped only once the man laid still. Reaching down with your gloved hand you pressed your fingers to his neck. Satisfied at the lack of a pulse, you pulled off your boots, and just as you had done with all other kills, you left the murder weapon at the scene.

Glancing down at the now dead male one last time with no sense of remorse in your gaze, you left his apartment.

                                             ————————–

Well the wedding had ended with no one dying.

Well someone had almost died but it had been a win since he hadn't died.

And as you watched Mary and John share a dance after Sherlock had dropped the startling news about Mary being pregnant, you felt as if your heart would truly burst from happiness.

Over the year since you had known the couple, you had begun to love them and see them as something of a family. Someone you were close to and adored with every fiber of your being.

And then there was Sherlock.

Sighing as you pulled on your coat, you wondered just what was it that existed between the two of you. He was perplexing, in the most intriguing of ways, and he challenged you every step of the way. Something that you loved, because you were a sadist when it came to making your life as complicated as possible.

Glancing one final time at the people still dancing at the wedding, you gave a small smile of content before stepping out into the night. It was Spring, but the temperature had dropped a little, prompting you to wrap your coat further around yourself. Thank goodness your heels were comfortable enough for you to walk without your feet hurting.

You had only made it a few paces when you caught sight of a familiar figure standing at the entrance of the gardens.

"Sherlock?" You called out, startling the man enough to cough slightly where he had been smoking a cigarette. "I thought you were going to get rid of that habit." You frowned disapprovingly at him, to which he simply shrugged.

"The situation called for it." He stated, crushing the butt under his shoe and glancing in the direction of the hall where the dancing was still going strong. You glanced in the direction as well.

"Are you referring to the fact that John and Mary are married, or that they are going to have a baby?" You asked, recalling a conversation you had with Mary at how scared Sherlock had been when it came to the change that would come in his life because of John getting married.

He didn't reply, opting to simply stand where he was and keep looking at the hall. Finally, you sighed. Gently taking his hand, you began to lead him away.

Throughout your short walk to the train station neither of you let go of the other's hand. In a way, it was a sad day for you as well. Just like Sherlock had lost his best friend, you had lost Mary. They would both be living a separate life now.

Leaving you and Sherlock behind.

As soon as you reached the train station, and settled into your seats, you pulled off your shoes and curled up in your seat. You were still wearing your maid of honor dress underneath your coat. The train ride would last a couple of hours, which was what prompted you to settle your head against Sherlock's shoulder, take his hand in yours once more, and slowly begin to drift off to sleep.

Unknown to you, Sherlock had only smiled slightly at your gesture, before resting his own head on top of yours and dozing off as well.

                                             ————————–

The Castrator had struck again, and this time, Sherlock was going to catch her for sure.

While at other times he would be fascinated by the game of cat and mouse him and the killer had been playing, after John leaving, he needed a win.

So he went over every single employee file that had been given to him, going over them again and again to try and find a connection between the rape victims and the killer. His gaze flickered to the end of the document.

And he paused.

He stared long and hard. Unable to believe his eyes and yet it made so much sense.

File after file he opened and there it was again and again.

Sherlock had solved the mystery of the who, now the question was - Why?

                                             ————————–

You stood over the CEO slipping the bottle of poison into your pocket as you moved to climb out of the window from which you had entered. You glanced back, watching in satisfaction as his body twitched and foam frothed his mouth.

In a few moments he would be dead.

And he would deserve it.

He was a pedophile. He deserved death.

Jumping down to the ground which was only a few feet away, you brushed yourself off and made to walk off when a rough hand grasped your wrist.

You gasped, raising your other hand to strike whoever it was when you stopped.

"Sherlock?"

The man stared back at you, and though his face was clear of all emotions, there was storm brewing in his gorgeous blue eyes. A feeling of dread settled in your stomach as you realized that he had figured out who The Castrator was.

And now you had to face him.

"I didn't want to believe it at first. Its why I came here without any police." He admitted as he finally let you go. The two of you stood in front of one another, gazes never wavering.

"How did you figure it out?" You asked, your voice soft.

"You were the attending nurse for every rape victim who's attacker was killed. It had to be you. There was no other connection." The look in his eyes made you want to look away, yet you couldn't. You owed him an explanation.

"I don't understand Y/N. Why?" He finally asked the question to which you glanced around.

"Can we go back to your place?"

You had fully expected him to tell you off for even suggesting it, but he only nodded.

                                             ————————–

About twenty minutes later you were sitting in John's armchair while Sherlock occupied his own. You removed your gloves, setting them aside as you turned you gaze towards the empty hearth.

"My mother was raped when she was twenty years old. They were never able to catch the guy, and she was too scared to actually take any action against him because he was rich and had the ability to buy out any lawyer she could hire. So, she stayed quiet, never talked about it to anyone, and when I was born, claimed that she had adopted me." You felt him shift where he sat prompting you to raise your eyes to look at him and nod. "Yes Sherlock, I was the product of that rape. A constant reminder for my mother that the monster had effected her life forever."

You bit your lower lip as you tried to keep those haunting images of your mother's face away from the forefront of your mind. "She had good days and bad days. I have a feeling the rape caused some long-term psychological disorder, but I learned to survive with them. My life was dark and I didn't have a normal childhood with the way my mother treated me. Though that all went away when she gave birth to my sister, Thea." You smiled softly as your hand reached into your shirt to pull out a small locket with the picture of a sweet looking girl inside.

"I know you're not one for sentiment Sherlock, but from the moment she was born, Thea was my whole world. I had found my reason to live. There were days when my mother couldn't even get out of bed and I would take care of Thea. I was only eight, but I knew what I was doing. I bathed her. Changed her. Fed her. Played with her. I taught her everything. From her first steps, to helping with her homework."

Despite the lump in your throat and a break in your voice, you continued. "She was the light in my life. And there were times when she could even drag mother out of bed and for a few moments we would be a happy family."

You shook your head. "But it was nothing but an illusion." You muttered, sighing with the intensity of someone who carried the very world on their back.

"I came home one day from school, and Thea wasn't back yet. It started to get dark and I went out looking for her." You paused, inhaling deeply as if physically preparing yourself for what you were about to say next. "I came back after hours, only to find the police at the door and my mother sobbing hysterically. Apparently Thea had been snatched on her way to school that morning. Her captor had held her for hours, raping her repeatedly before dumping her body where he had picked her up from."

Despite the raw emotion in your voice and your eyes, there was not a single tear. Since the loss of your sister you hadn't cried. You figured you didn't have any more tears left. Just a gaping empty feeling in your chest that you had carried all these years.

"And just like that she was gone. My sweet baby sister." You whispered, clutching the necklace tighter in your palm as you sighed deeply, running a hand down your face in a wearied manner. "Mother blamed me, said Thea had been my responsibility because I was older. Last time I saw her, she tried to throw a bottle at my head, saying I was the one who deserved to die, not Thea." A shuddering gasp fell from your lips before you continued.

"And I agree with her. I should've been the one who died." A steely resolve stole into your voice as you allowed your eyes to finally met his. "The police managed to track down the man who killed Thea. I sneaked into his house one night, just to see him. And while I was going through one of his drawers I found this." You nodded towards the pendant you were still clutching. Tight enough that the shape was embedded in your skin. "He had kept it as a trophy. I heard the door opening, and hid. He was getting back from somewhere and was drunk."

Pursing your lips, your mind replayed the scene in your head, though this time you could feel Sherlock's comforting presence next to you. "Something inside me just snapped." You whispered, as your mind's eye played the scene out perfectly with a younger you as a participant and your older self watching.

Watching how you grabbed a fire poker and stepped out of the shadows, taking the fire poker from the stand near you.

Watching how he stepped into your line of sight and your eyes met.

For that one brief moment, a horrible realization rose within you.

That this had been the face your sister had seen before she died.

You watched as a scream fell from your lips, the same moment you lashed out with the poker and hit him again.....

....and again....

.....and again.....

.....and again......

                                             ————————–

"Y/N?"

You gasped, panting slightly as you returned from reliving your memory. Your head seemed to be spinning as your eyes found Sherlock.

When did he come to kneel in front of you? He had his hands wrapped around yours, which were still clutching the pendant. You loosened your hold around it slightly, though Sherlock made no move to pull back as he continued to look at you.

You gulped. "I killed him."

Silence followed your words. Sherlock simply stared at you, his blue gaze piercing into the very dark depths of your mind and heart.

"Why did you start killing again?" He finally asked, wanting to hear it from you. You gulped.

"There was this girl who came in. Rape victim. She had slashed her wrists because she couldn't live with the fact that her rapist had gotten away. And seeing her lying there, I was reminded of Thea so much that I just ....." You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

You sighed deeply as you leaned forward, your forehead touching your clasped hands. The silence seemed to stretch on until finally you whispered. "Are you going to have me arrested now?" You asked the question that had been weighing down on you.

Sherlock licked his lips, though you didn't see it, given your face was still bent over both your hands as if in prayer, his face was one of sympathy and......understanding almost.

"A normal person would yes, but then I'm not normal am I?" You glanced up at him, a startled expression on your face as he continued. "As a self-proclaimed sociopath I believe I can ignore what you have done because according to the dictionary I have no conscience."

You couldn't help yourself as you made a disbelieving sound. "That is bollocks and you know it Sherlock, you're a high functioning sociopath, get your facts straight." You teased him, recalling the many many times he had been called a psychopath by others only for Sherlock to correct them.

"I have one question though Y/N." His gaze was........uncertain, when he looked at you, prompting you to frown in confusion.

"Did you become friends with Mary to get close to me, so that I wouldn't suspect you?"

His words caused your entire body to seize up and your eyes widened. Multiple emotions played about your face, too quick for Sherlock to deduce. You frantically shook your head, lifting a hand to rest it against his cheek.

"Sherlock, please believe me when I say that I truly had no intentions of doing anything like that." You took a shuddering breath before continuing in earnest. "Please you have to believe me. After Thea died and my mother disowning me, meeting Mary was the one bright thing in my life. Then I became friends with John and through the both of them I was able to meet you." There was a brief pause in your words, but gaze was unwavering, and your features schooled into a determined expression as you continued.

"I know you will never accept me for who I am and what I have done, but hear me Sherlock Holmes. Our meeting was entirely up to fate and she delivered. I have met you, spent time with you, laughed with you, adored you." You hesitated before finishing. "And I have loved you from the moment I saw you."

He was silent as you stopped speaking, allowing the words to sink in for the both of you. Never before had you bared your soul to anyone like you had to Sherlock. Maybe it was because you had tasted that sweet sweet nectar of friendship, love and acceptance. And you didn't want to loose it.

And Sherlock knew that if you did loose the life you had built for yourself, you would loose yourself as well.

And he wasn't about to let that happen.

Not on his watch.

You began to speak again, words almost tumbling out as you did. "And I know it might seem irrational to you and illogical, but I've - I jus-mmph." Your words were cut off when Sherlock placed a hand at the back of your head, and pulled you down to kiss you. Your breath hitched and your eyes widened comically.

The kiss was over just as soon as it had begun.

The two of you blinked at one another. You could still feel the tingling sensation of having his lips pressed to yours. And Sherlock? He had taken just a taste of a kiss, and he was already craving more.

"I will speak to my brother." He finally said. "And I will make sure none of those murders are traced back to you." You blinked, not having expecting that. His hand was still at the back of your head, holding you in place, though you weren't complaining. Not when your nose was brushing against his and you could feel his warm breath every time he spoke.

"And I will also make sure that the legal system doesn't allow these monsters to slip away. Mycroft is the British government, he can make it happen."

His gaze turned serious as he continued. "But you will not kill again."

A small laugh fell from your lips as you closed your eyes and leaned forward once more, though this time you rested your forehead against his. "I never wanted to kill anyone Sherlock. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't want those victims to feel helpless like Thea had felt in her final moments. And it made me feel helpless and....and alone." Your voice broke slightly at the end, causing a physical ache to form in Sherlock's chest, as if he could feel the pain you felt.

He loosened his hold on your hands, instead interlocking your fingers and keeping a firm grip.

"You're not alone anymore, Y/N." He reassured you.

This time, you were the one who initiated the kiss, allowing your lips to brush against his in an almost tender gesture. He reciprocated by returning the kiss with a slight pressure against your own. His tongue made a sudden swipe across your bottom lip, and he found the taste of you just as addicting as he did your scent, your laugh, your smile, your voice, your very presence.

You smiled at his eagerness, falling ever deeper into the embrace.

And as the kiss deepened, you could feel a small part of your shattered heart come together in one piece. It would take time for you to heal, but in time you would heal.

With him.

[larissainwonderland]

Hi! Could you write Larissa x wife reader? They just had a baby and Larissa misses sex so they ask one of the teachers to babysit?

A/N: I hope you’ll like it, I’m not entirely comfortable with writing smut, yet. So, hopefully this one came out enjoyable.

Pairing: Larissa x Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Words count: 700+

Ten months had passed since the birth of your first child. The bliss they brought into your life was immeasurable, but with such a great joy came also the enormous fatigue that was being a new parent.

Larissa talked you into going on parental leave while she kept working.

The first couple of months were the hardest. The baby wouldn’t sleep; both you and Larissa would be much more irritable than usual.

You two used to be a power couple and now, after the baby arrived, everything seemed to crumbled.

Yes, you loved each other deeply, but you were both constantly exhausted – both physically and mentally. The baby drained you completely and you knew this was going to happen, you just didn’t expect it was going to take so long for you to adjust to your new life.

Sex was something you both yearned, but since the baby arrived it was almost impossible to have a moment of privacy. The only way to make them fall asleep was to held them in your arms. This meant either you or Larissa had to sleep with them several hours per night.

During the day, you both went into survival mode and sex was not a primal need.

At least not during the first five or six months…

Now, every time you tried to have some privacy with your wife, the baby would start screaming bloody murder. Teething was a real nightmare.

It was the day after Outreach Day, you decided to surprise your wife at work. Of course you had to bring the baby, and of course, before you knew it you were surrounded by a crowd of teachers and student.

They all wanted to say hi to baby Weems, and you remembered why you never brought them to your workplace…

All the stupid little voices, the hands trying to grab them, the unwanted advices, the invasive questions.

Luckily, you had true friends there. Vlad, the fencing coach, faced the excited crowd to get to you.

“All right, all right!” He said. “The show is over. Now let them both breath” he smiled, walking you and the baby towards a more private area of the courtyard.

“Thanks” you said.

“Don’t mention it” he held out his hand to the baby and they blabbed happily. “Are you here to see your wife?” He asked.

You nodded. Something popped up in your mind and you immediately felt guilty about it.

You sighed.

“Would I be a horrible friend if I’d ask you to babysit the baby for a while? I really need some time alone with Larissa…” you tried to explain and Vlad smiled at you.

“Just hand me the little one. Please, take your time… all the time you need” he half laughed, as he reached out and you gave him the baby.

“Okay…” you said, suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“She needs to get laid” he said. “She’s a nightmare these days. I’m asking you as a Nevermore teacher, please do something about it”.

You laughed lightheartedly, but nodded seriously. “I promise” you joked as you kissed your baby on the forehead, leaving them with your friend.

Once you reached the Principal’s office, your wife was surprised to see you.

She greeted you with a smile and a kiss.

“What are you doing here, love?” Larissa asked, with a smile. “Where’s the baby?!”

“Don’t worry. Vlad volunteered as a babysitter. I’m here on a mission for the school” you replied, locking the door behind your back.

“On a mission for the school?” She sounded confused but her smile didn’t falter and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

You closed the distance between you two once again and kissed her with love and passion. She was taken by surprise, but immediately accepted the kiss with a soft moan and walked back as you pushed her forward until her legs hit the top of her desk.

You grinned in the kiss, deepening the kiss, savouring her lips and sighing in satisfaction.

Her red lipstick was all over your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

“Oh— how I’ve missed you, my love…” she breathed against your mouth; her eyes were closed, her fingers were deep into your hair, keeping you close.

She sat on the desk and parted her legs, welcoming you between her knees.

“I’ve missed you too” you managed to reply, breathless, between her kisses.

And if Larissa was more relaxed after two hours of screwing each other’s brains out behind the locked doors of her office, it was all to the good.