#but I don't think that's the DM's plan and don't want to write out my own character by having her straight-up refuse her patron lol

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet:

[catsidhesilvie]

Ahhhhhhh Zilvra got big character development tonight in session!!

Long Zilvra lore and motivation musings!

She finally met her patron, after attempting to touch a shrine that granted visions to answer your most burning question/worry. Zilvra forced everyone else to go before her because she was nervous and afraid of what she might see, only for a wild fox to scurry in just in time and grab her skirt hem to stop her. (The question, by the way, would have been either "Who was it who kidnapped me to the feywilds in the first place" or "What happens when I regain my memory?")

Her patron then materializes and says that he has been pleased with her service and wishes to offer her a choice to stop her from digging around in her history -- he could either consider the contract fulfilled, take back the powers he granted, and and restore her memory (as was originally promised) now........ OR, extend the contract, since his last warlock didn't work out all that well and Zilvra was particularly useful. If she agreed to remain his for the occasional errand, he promised her all kinds of power and even to help with her friends who died (whose players are currently playing other characters...... hmmmmm something doesn't add up but Zilvra wouldn't necessarily know that), but asked in exchange that she handle the last remaining evil druid left in the woods. Then, he said he wished for her to rejoin him in the feywilds and serve him from there.

Her whooooole thing was that she wanted to escape the feywilds! That's what started her whole adventure in this game. She made the deal with this patron to get out, getting her warlock powers essentially just to complete his mission since she wouldn't have her memory of her druidic powers. The thought of her going back willingly would be totally against her motivations since the start............... but. He promised even more power, which would be useful (seeing as the party is about to fight a dragon), and said that she might like it in the feywilds more if she was as strong as she would be with a resealed pact -- that she could control some of the feywilds herself, even, to shape her own desires into reality.

It wouldn't have tempted her initially, because the whole ordeal has made her highly value freedom. Now, though, having learned of her past from a fellow surface drow in town who chanced to recognize her, she knows that she doesn't have much to return to post-adventure. That makes her slow down and actually consider the offer.

Her entire goal since level 1 was to escape the feywilds and complete her patron's task so that she could be done with it all and return to her old life and an important task she had been working on - she couldn't remember what it was, but that it was her duty. Thanks to this chance encounter with the other drow, she learned what that duty was.

She had been a druid, albiet a Circle of Spores druid -- which still placed her as "other" in her drow village in the underdark. When their home had been included in an attack by mindflayers, Zilvra had been sent to the surface to try to fetch assistance, since mindflayers were too powerful a foe for the drow alone. Being a druid, Zilvra was deemed most likely to be able to find surface allies. Instead, she vanished, and the help she was supposed to bring never arrived.

She had been trapped in the feywild, or otherwise unaccounted for, for 200 years. Now, her former home in the Underdark was in ruins -- the drow had succeeded in their fight against the mindflayers without her, but not before their town was leveled. The drow the party met explained that the matron of their house and other members of their town had recently returned to rebuild, but others had, like him, scattered to the wind, so she was free to do as she wished.

Zilvra's thirst for freedom turned into a curse of options. >:)

Where would Zilvra go, when this is all over? Her cleric friend has other friends and a place to return home to. Her wizard friend is only part of the party to finish the business of their deceased friend, and also has a home far away. The new barbarian in the party is still mildly standoffish and seems to be a mercenary only helping them for the coin. She does care for Mab, but even Mab had chosen to join the party for a particular goal -- to avenge his clan and retake his former home in the mountains from the dragon. Zilvra couldn't just invite herself to stay with any of them, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to return to the underdark as a deserter, or worse, a failure.

If she regained her druidic powers and memory, perhaps she could join a local circle and help to protect the forests.... if she could find a group that would accept her as a drow. Her warlock powers had granted her the ability to appear as a wood elf (or anyone else) at will, so getting by on the surface would be a fair bit more difficult if she only had her own humanoid face.

There was also the building anxiety of what she would be like with her memory restored -- was she still her? Did she think and act the same way? Would she still care for the friends she's made (the only ones she's ever known, given the technicalities)?

Her patron being fey, she was limited in what questions she could ask without giving offense, but he did elaborate that her tasks, should she decide to stay his, would primarily be related to protecting the wood from humans and others who would try to over-hunt or otherwise over-harvest the forest sacred to the fey -- something that, as a former druid, she assumes that she would be totally in line with.

Swearing her servitude to her patron indefinitely by doing what she would already be drawn to doing in exchange for purpose, power, and maybe even a chance to save her lost friends.... it suddenly became far more tempting than she could have considered.

SO now, two questions remain:

Can she trust her patron?

And

what does she want in the end?

Initially, Zilvra was unfalteringly loyal to and completely trusting of her patron, because she remembered that SHE had agreed to the deal to escape the feywilds. She trusted her own judgement, and his by extension. She initially kept her pact a secret, was focused on her mission above all else, and simply joined the party to try and increase the strength at her disposal with which to complete her patron's unknown mission -- but as time passed, she slowly started to see things didn't add up. Finding that she was a druid now cursed to make flowers wither was like a twisting knife, a cruel joke. Was it from her patron? Was it from another fey? Her patron being silent after her friends died and she had thought she'd completed her patron's mission also made her frustrated and wary, and the question of WHY she needed to have her memories suppressed continued to fester.

Meeting her patron now and having it confirmed from his own mouth that HE didn't want her to remember anything to keep her useful to him caused her suspicion to compound. For him to not want her to remember, to go so far as to travel into the material plane to stop her moments before touching something that would give her an answer to a question she hadn't stated, there must be something he has her doing that would go against her true self -- she just can't imagine what, unless she either wouldn't have been willing to work with him specifically, or if she did have something else important out there waiting for her. There's also the possibility that I haven't had her think of yet where she could have been a Talos-following druid herself -- not all druids are good druids! And oh man that would be a twist, having her hunt down and murder the druids that she had been seeking :O

Ultimately, she made a smaller bargain with him: she continues to serve him for now, and will defeat the last remaining evil druid in the area. The party will use her warlock powers as well to try and make progress in defeating this dragon. In one month, her patron will return with the same offer, and she will decide whether to give up all her warlock powers in exchange for her memory, and possibly returned druidic powers.... or, she will choose to sign a permanent contract in exchange for greater powers and assistance with her deceased friends, and eventually return to the feywilds with her patron.

Knowing the way time works in the feywilds, she warns the party she doesn't know if they will see him in a few days or a few years -- but that she has bought time. If it seems that they won't be able to defeat the dragon that terrorizes the area on their own, she could take that power to help.

I think, character-wise, it makes the most sense for Zilvra to reject her patron's offer. While she is tempted by her friends being somehow savable from death, the cleric of the party pointed out to her that it sounded fishy, so a seed of doubt exists to compete with her guilt over their deaths coming from a fight for her personal quest.

She will always be curious about her past, and she wanted to leave the feywilds. I think if the party gives her any indication that they will support her when she gets her memories back, or gives any idea of where she could go after this fight is over, she will choose to regain her memories, hoping that the experiences which she has gone through with them will stay with her and prevent her from being aggressive to them as non-drow.

That said, I don't anticipate that the DM will be swapping her class just before the final battle.... so I'd imagine that she won't hear from her patron again until at least just before the final confrontation with the dragon, and she might be able to ask to keep the powers for just one more fight.

AND there is always the chance that the DM is tricky and makes it so Zilvra doesn't reallly get the choice -- either she thinks she has to take the power to succeed, or she learns more about her past and does NOT jive with it.

Ofc then there is the bit where I decided to make Zilvra's downtime activity for the next few days as they await the Festival of the Moon researching local druidic groups and drow druids, sneakily, to see if she can discover any bit of history about herself from the surface before she was kidnapped by fey. If her patron catches her, that could be a whole ordeal bahaha.

I'm down for anything but ahh this is so fun :D

[morbidapples]

good luck charm

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4,474 words; 24,496 characters

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: penis in vagina sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), fucking on a couch, praise kink, pet names, cursing, art is lowkey kind of a freak here, oral fixation, needy! art donaldson, established relationship, lovesick fools, brief mentions of future plans yada yada ya, reader is also a tennis player.

𝗮/𝗻: hey... i'm ovulating right now so i had to crank out another art donaldson smut fic. i am genuinely obsessed with the man, it's a little scary. but, i am actually starting to write smut more and mayhaps have another art fic coming out soon that involves a kitchen countertop... anyways. this is a medium length piece, not as long as the other art donaldson smut fic, but still a decent read (I hope). Don't be a ghost reader, and if you have any requests for anything, feel free to dm me.

Art loved you. You were always there for him. In the stands at every match, patching up minor scrapes after a fall. You were always there when he needed you.

He craved your attention like a drug, like it was the oxygen he needed to breathe. A bit needy, in your eyes. But you never minded.

"But you always come to my matches."

He had a small frown on his lips, his hands gripping your waist as you stood in front of him, your hands gently massaging the nape of his neck.

You smile softly at him and his antics. "I know, but I have my own match tomorrow. I can't miss it."

His pout deepened, whining a bit as he pulled you down on the couch next to him, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs.

"But you're my good luck charm," he whined again, burying his head in the crook of your neck, lips planting gentle kisses over your skin.

Your breath hitches slightly at the feeling of his lips against your skin, but you still manage to speak. "Y- you don't need luck. You're a good player, baby."

He continues kissing, moving upwards to the spot on your neck that he knew you loved, his hands running up your thighs, slowly but teasingly.

"Sure, I don't need luck, but I want it," he mumbled against your skin, his hands now slipping under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing patterns along your sides.

Your head instinctively tilts back to give him better access to your neck, as you struggle to focus on anything other than Art's mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. "Are we really... talking about this right now? It's hard to... think rationally right now."

His lips curved into a smirk as he nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, knowing full well the effect he was having on you. His hands continued to wander, moving higher on your sides, thumbs gently rubbing over your ribs.

"Thinking never got anyone anything, sweetheart," he whispered, his warm breath against your skin doing nothing to help your current state of arousal.

His lips slowly make their way to your ear, his mouth nipping at the lobe before he spoke again.

"Besides, thinking is overrated. You should just 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭."

With that, his hands found your waist again, and in a swift motion he had you pinned against the couch, his body hovering over yours as he looked down at you with darkened eyes.

His mouth continued its work down your neck, moving along your jaw until he reached your lips, his mouth claiming your own in a deep, passionate kiss.

Art shifts, trapping your legs between his as he grinded his hips against yours, a low growl escaping him as he continued to devour your mouth.

You gasp into his mouth at the sensation, hands holding onto the side of his stomach. You're breathless, hungry for him.

He takes advantage of your gasp, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring every inch of you.

His hands move lower, finding the hem of your shirt and starting to tug at the fabric. He breaks the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes roamed over your exposed skin.

He leaned down, his mouth returning to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone and between your breasts.

"You taste so good," be murmured, his fingers tracing over the lace of your bra, teasing you as he moved lower to your stomach.

His hands went back to your hips, holding you in place as he continued to shower your skin with kisses. He moved down your stomach, his lips tracing the lines of defined muscles, marking you as his own.

He could feel you squirming under him, your breathing becoming ragged, and he couldn't help but smirk against your skin. He loved having you like this, all flushed and needy, completely at his mercy.

Art's hands moved behind your back, easily finding the clasp of your bra and freeing you from the lace. He pulled away from your stomach to look at you, his eyes roaming over your exposed chest, a hungry glint in his gaze.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his calloused fingers gently tracing the curves of your body. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. It was something only he could make you feel. You were okay with that.

His mouth was on you again, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, teasing and pinching your sensitive flesh. His teeth latch on to your pebbled nipple, nibbling on the hardened bud.

He heard you moan, the sound going straight to his groin, making him grind against you again, trying to get some friction.

He pulled away, his breath hot on your skin as he spoke. "You like that, sweetheart?"

He watched as you tried to nod, your eyes half-lidded, your body arching up against his touch.

He chuckled under his breath, his thumb and forefinger gently pinching your nipple.

"Use your words, baby."

You bite your lip slightly, trying to form a coherent thought, chest flushed and littered with love bites, gaze hazy as you look at him. "Y- fuck, yes-"

He smiled at your response, pleased with the sound of your voice as you spoke.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his mouth continuing its journey down your stomach, his teeth nipping at the skin.

He moved lower, his lips trailing over the waistband of your sweatpants, his hands pushing the fabric down your legs.

He sat back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you sprawled out on the couch, completely exposed to him.

He smirked, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he leaned back down, his mouth attaching to the inside of your thigh.

He left a trail of kisses up your thigh, his teeth gently biting at the sensitive skin. His hands held your hips down, keeping you in place as he slowly but surely made his way to your core.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of you driving him on as his tongue slowly traced over your folds, tasting you. He'd thought about being mean, teasing you, but his own desire overruled that thought process.

He heard you gasp, your body arching against his mouth, and he couldn't help but smirk against you, knowing how wet you were for him.

He continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue swirling and tasting as he found the spots that made you moan and jerk against him. His hands kept you in place, his strong fingers gripping your hips as he worked you into a frenzy.

You felt like you were floating, the pleasure making your head spin. God, he was fucking good at this.

One of your hands grips his hair, while the other squeezes your breast, giving you that extra stimulation. Your head lolls back against the couch, half delirious and hazy, as you let out needy whines and moans.

"Art- Art, fuck- s' good... so good..."

His mouth never left its place between your legs as he heard you call his name, the sound going straight to his cock. He hummed against you, the vibrations against your sensitive cunt making you squirm even more, your hand in his hair tugging at the locks.

He pulled away for a moment, his mouth slick and shiny with your arousal as he looked up at you.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're being so good for me," he purred, his voice gravelly and low from arousal.

His mouth returned to you, his tongue picking up its pace as he devoured you. He could feel you getting closer, your body tensing, moans growing louder and more frequent.

He held you down even more, his fingers gripping your hips almost painfully as he pressed you into the couch, his mouth never stopping its relentless assault.

Your moans are rising in pitch, voicing his name repeatedly like a prayer. Your cunt is clenching around his tongue, and your chest is heaving up and down. You're going to cum very soon, and he knows it.

He could feel you getting closer, your body practically shaking with need. He doubled his efforts, his tongue working overtime as he pushed you higher and higher.

He looked up at you, watching the expressions of ecstasy on your face as he brought you right to the edge.

"That's it, that's my girl. Come for me," he growled against you.

His words combined with his tongue send you careening into your peak, hips canting up, core clenching, moaning his name almost pornographically.

"Oh, god- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- s' good to me, Art-"

He keeps mouthing at you through your climax, prolonging it by never letting up his efforts. He loved this, the feeling of you coming undone under him, the sound of his name leaving your lips in between gasps and moans.

He pulled away once he was sure you were spent, but he couldn't help but tease you just a bit more, his tongue darting out to swipe up the last bit of your arousal.

You whine, hips twitching at the overstimulation. Your gaze is hazy, lips bitten, eyes dilated, as your head tilts back against the couch, half delirious from your orgasm.

He watches you for a moment, a satisfied smirk on his face as he moved up your body, gently pressing a kiss to your stomach before capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

He pulls back to look at you again, his hand cupping your face.

"You're so pretty like this," he murmured, his thumb tracing your bottom lip where it was bitten red.

As Art's thumb presses into your mouth, your tongue darts out to trace it. He swallows hard as he slips his middle and ring finger into your mouth, and you keep eye contact with him as you suck on his digits, eyes blown wide with desire.

He watches you intently, the way your lips wrap around his fingers and your tongue swirls around them nearly making him shiver in anticipation.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear as he speaks, his voice low and seductive.

"You look so good with your mouth full, sweetheart."

You moan around his fingers, tongue still coating his fingers with saliva. You've always been a sucker for praise, especially from him.

He chuckles quietly at your response, his eyes darkened with lust as he watches you take his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I tell you how good you are?"

He pushes his fingers deeper, his other hand holding the side of your neck, thumb rubbing over the skin gently.

You moan again, eyes fluttering. You both have a heavy oral fixation, you know it, and he knows it, too. Your hands go down to his jeans, fingers grazing over his erection. You want to please him, too, just as he had done for you.

He can feel your hand on his jeans, the gesture not going unnoticed as he sees your eyes flutter. He growls lowly, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

"You want to take care of me too, sweetheart? You want to show me how good you can be for me?"

You whine, needy and uninhibited. You want to make him feel good, too. Your mind is fuzzy with only one thing, him.

He smirks faintly, watching you get lost in the feeling, the sound of your whine making his cock twitch inside the denim confines.

"Alright, baby," he purrs, taking his fingers out of your mouth and gently lifting your chin with his hand.

"You know what to do, don't you?"

You're quick to discard him of his jeans and shirt, and underwear, as you lightly push him back on the couch, his legs spread. You settle in between his legs, on your knees on the floor, sucking and biting the skin of his thighs and hipbones, your slender hands pressing down gently on his thighs.

His head rolls back at the feeling of your lips and teeth on his skin, a low moan leaving his lips. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, his muscles tensing as your touch sends jolts of pleasure through him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps breathily, his grip on the couch tightening. "You're so good to me."

One of your hands move to cup his base, squeezing gently, and you begin to leave teasing kitten licks at the top, the other hand gripping his thigh.

Art hisses at the feeling of your hand on him, his hips involuntarily bucking at the contact, his toes curling against the carpet.

"Fuck..." he gasps, his hands finding your hair and fisting the locks, trying to control himself. "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."

When your tongue runs up from his base to his tip, and flattens against his slit, he nearly loses it. And you haven't even put your mouth over him fully yet.

His eyes are squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands trying to ground himself in your hair. He's never felt so wound up, so worked up, the touch of your tongue making him lose his mind.

"Baby-" he gasps, his head rolling back against the couch. "I- I won't last if you keep this up."

When your mouth closes around him, his mind goes blank. It's so warm, so soft, so good. Your tongue is swirling around his slit now, hands gripping his legs as you take him in fully.

Art can't think, can't form a coherent thought, can't do anything except feel the sensation of your mouth on him. His hips twitch, his hands gripping your hair tighter, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps and moans.

"Oh, god-" he gasps, his back arching off the couch slightly. "That's- that's good- s' so good, sweetheart-"

It isn't long before his hips are stuttering forward into your mouth, and you're taking it like it's nothing, mouth wrapped around his cock. You aren't letting up, and he's on the cusp.

He knows he can't hold on much longer, the pleasure building higher and higher, his hips involuntarily bucking into your mouth, needing more friction.

"I- I'm gonna-" he chokes out, his hands gripping your hair tighter again. "I'm gonna- sweetheart, I-"

After a few seconds, you ease off, and he scrambles to get himself the rest of the way off. His hand frantically moves up and down, he's so close, so, so close- he cuts himself off with a strangled moan as he cums, releasing on his hand, and all over your chest, dripping down the valley between your breasts.

He can barely catch his breath, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, his body shaking slightly from the aftershocks.

He looks down at you, a mixture of satisfaction and awe in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, your chest covered in his release. The sight nearly does him again.

"You're- you're amazing, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice hoarse from the strained vocal chords. "So fucking good to me."

You look at him then, eyes hooded and half-lidded. Then, you take your index and middle finger, scooping up his creamy spend on them, and suck your digits clean, all while keeping eye contact with him.

𝘖𝘏 𝘔𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘋. He could come again just from watching you.

Art's eyes widen as he watches you, a guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

He reaches down, grabbing you by the upper arms and pulling you up onto his lap, his mouth finding yours in a desperate, messy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

You moan into his mouth, hands cupping his face, hips rolling against his. God, you're soaked, he can feel the wetness against his exposed cock.

He breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin, leaving his mark on you. His hands are on your hips, gripping them tightly, helping you move against him.

He can feel how wet you are, how much you want him, and it drives him wild.

"You want me, sweetheart?" he murmurs against your neck, his breathing ragged. "You want me inside you?"

You gasp, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. His cock is hitting the right spots to make you squirm, and that's all you can think about.

"Yes- fuck, please- need you-"

He smirks against your skin, his hands roaming all over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You need me, huh?" he teases, his mouth now on your ear, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?"

Your voice takes on a high and breathy tone, bordering on begging. At this point, you are.

"Please, please- I need- need you to fucking fill up- Art-"

He leans back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body, raking over every inch of skin. He takes in the sight of you, desperate and needy on top of him, and it takes all his self-control not to give in right then and there.

He captures your mouth in a rough, hungry, messy kiss, mostly teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths.

"Get on your knees, baby."

You do as he says, as he places a cushion under your hips. Always thoughtful, he is, even when he's completely feral for you.

He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your spine, as he positions you comfortably and prepares you.

He takes his time, his mouth and hands roaming over your back, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake.

He positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his breaths hot on your skin as he speaks.

"You ready for me?"

You nod so fast he swears you could've given yourself whiplash, moaning softly, needily. "Yes, yes- please-"

He holds your hips steady, his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing ever so slightly.

He leans down, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth by your ear.

"Take a deep breath and relax," he murmurs, his voice almost sultry.

He takes a moment to let you adjust, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips, waiting until you give him the okay to continue.

When you do, he pushes into you slowly, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. It's a struggle to not start pounding into you immediately, but he's coherent enough to recognize you need a minute.

You moan once he fully bottoms out, your hands curling into the fabric of the couch, arching up against him. You feel so full, so stuffed.

Art holds you close, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth leaving tender kisses on your shoulder. He takes a moment to gather himself, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"You okay, sweetheart? M' not hurting you?" he asks, his voice thick with arousal, his hands on your hips holding you still.

You take a second to adjust to the stretch, and when you feel like you're ready, you tell him. "I'm good. Y- you can move."

He nods against you, his hand coming up to gently grab onto your hair, pulling lightly to get your attention.

"I want you to look at me. Can you do that for me?"

He watches as you turn your head to look at him, your face flushed and your eyes hazy with desire.

"That's my girl," he praises, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. "Now hold on tight."

Within a second, he's pulled out, turned you over so you're on your back, and gone back in. He wants to see your face as he makes you feel good. And you already look wrecked.

He looks down at you, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every little expression— the way your mouth hangs open, how your eyes flutter shut, the moans and gasps leaving your lips.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup your face, holding your head in place so he can watch you come apart under him.

He continues to move, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving your face, taking in every reaction you have to his every touch and movement.

He watches as the pleasure builds within you, your body arching up towards him, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders.

He leans down, his mouth finding yours in a deep, messy kiss, his tongue delving into you, tangling with your own.

He feels your legs come up, wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer, deeper, the new angle making him let out a guttural moan.

You moan into his mouth, as he hits a deeper angle inside, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half crescent moons in their wake. The room is warm, not only from the hot summer air, but also the heat coming off of both your bodies.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as his breaths come out in ragged gasps. He can feel your nails dig into his shoulders, and the stinging sensation only serves to drive him wilder.

"You're so good to me," he pants, his hands roaming over your body, tracing over every curve and contour. "So goddamn good to me."

He quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward harder and rougher, his eyes locked on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression.

He can't even think coherently anymore. All he can focus on is you. How you feel, how you look. Every noise that is drawn out of you with each thrust of his hips.

He can feel his own release building, the pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

He continues to move, his motions growing sloppy and erratic as he begins to lose himself to the sensation.

"I'm gonna-" he gasps, his voice strained and uneven. "I'm gonna-"

He's determined to bring you over the edge first. He reaches down in between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, and applying pressure.

You moan, eyes fluttering, lips parting, jaw going slack. Your nails dig into his shoulders, as you clench around him. You're so close, he can feel it.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him drives him insane, the moans and gasps escaping your lips only adding to the sensation.

He keeps up the pressure with his thumb, his own release building, his muscles tense and taut with effort, but he refuses to let go until you've come undone first.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me see you come apart."

"F- fuck- Oh, oh god-" His thrusts hit just the right spot inside you, and it sends you careening over the edge, eyes rolling back, voicing his name over and over like a prayer.

He watches as you fall apart beneath him, your body writhing and trembling, the sight of you coming undone pushing him right to the edge.

His movements become erratic, his hips stuttering as he clings onto the precipice, the sensations almost too intense.

"Oh god-" he moans, his voice trembling. "Gonna- I'm gonna-"

When you clench around him again, it's enough to finish him off. He moans hoarsely, hips thrusting through his own release.

His release hits him like a freight train, his hips stilling, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps against your skin.

"Fuck-" he pants, his grip on you tight, his whole body shaking from the aftershocks.

He tries to catch his breath, his body still slumped over you, his heart racing in his chest. He lifts his head up slightly to look at you, and god, the sight of you, so utterly wrecked and breathless, nearly does him in again.

You look down at him, eyes hazy and filled with affection, as your hand comes up to gently card through his sweaty hair.

He practically melts under your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he lets out a contented sigh.

He moves slowly, carefully pulling out of you, trying not to hurt you. He then collapses beside you on the couch, his head resting on your stomach.

"You're going to be the death of me, y'know that?" he mumbles sleepily, his voice rough but fond.

You laugh quietly, a faint smile appearing on your face. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

No, it wouldn't. It really wouldn't, he thinks. You are marked with love bites, put there by him, you're this wrecked because of him. You love him.

He grins at your comment, his eyes drifting up to take in the sight of your marked skin. He feels a sense of pride at the sight of the love bites he left behind, a silent claim that you were his.

He lifts himself up, propping himself up on his elbow so that he's staring down at you, his gaze soft but possessive.

"You're right," he answers quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. "It wouldn't be so bad at all."

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you're both tired. Art can feel his eyelids drooping, the allure of sleep calling to him. And you're not faring much better, drowsy and content being here.

He can tell you're just as tired as he is, both of you coming down from the adrenaline high and now feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones.

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. He burrows his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of you.

"Let's take a nap," he murmurs sleepily. "Just a little one. We can clean up later."

You hum softly in agreement, body perfectly melding into his. As Art drifts off, he's only thinking about how much he never wants this to end. He never wants to stop having you.

The last thing he remembers as he slips into unconsciousness is the feeling of your body against his, the sound of your breaths, and the gentle beat of your heart.

He falls asleep dreaming of a life with you, filled with love, laughter, and happiness. And he knows, deep down, that he'll do anything to make those dreams a reality.

[wholoveseggs]

Omg love your elijah stuff it's the best out there! Could you write a fluffy smut where the reader and elijah get married and she's still human and they plan for her to turn on their wedding night. But since she's about to become a vampire and knows elijah loves the taste of her the blood she has him drink from her during sex one last time and she drinks from him so after sex and aftercare his blood is in her system and he turns her then:)

Something Sweet

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's the day of your wedding, a day you've dreamed about since you were young. Everything is exactly as you imagined it would be, except one thing. Today is not only the day of your wedding, today is also the day you die... And you never wanted anything so badly.

♡♡Thanks for the request lovely @sarah-bear706318! I made this one super fluffy♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, so much flufffff, blood drinking, sappy Elijah, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top! If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv @myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy

It was the day of your wedding and you were awoken by the birds chirping outside of your bedroom window. You rolled over to find your side of the bed empty and cold, a note from Elijah in his elegant handwriting.

My love,

I thought it best if I did not see you until the ceremony, as that is a tradition.

I have not been able to sleep. I am both excited and nervous for today, my beautiful wife. I will spend every waking moment cherishing you.

Elijah

You smiled to yourself as you read his words, imagining him pacing the floor as he wrote this, probably in the study or the library.

You pressed the note to your chest, you could hardly believe that you were getting married today. It was a day you had dreamed about since you were young. You had imagined what your wedding dress would look like, the flowers you would pick for the arrangement, how you would wear your hair. But now, none of that seemed important, the only thing on your mind was what came after the wedding.

Elijah would make you a vampire tonight, and then you would have eternity together.

He was still hesitant, even though you had insisted this was what you wanted. He worried that one day you would regret it, that you would hate him for it, that it would break the connection between the two of you.

But he was wrong, you knew it would only strengthen your bond. You loved him so much that it was impossible to put it into words. You would do anything for him, give him anything, including your life.

After a few moments of lying in bed and thinking of your handsome husband to be, you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. In walked your three bridesmaids and your maid of honor, carrying a tray of delicious breakfast foods.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Rebekah said, walking around the bed and placing the tray on the mattress in front of you.

"What are you still doing in bed?" Freya asked.

"Yeah, it's your wedding day! We have a lot to do!" Camille exclaimed.

You chuckled and sat up in bed, tucking the duvet over your legs. Hayley laid on the bed next to you, popping a bottle of champagne open and pouring four glasses.

"Everybody relax, we have lots of time," she said, handing you a glass. "Don't stress her out,"

Rebekah rolled her eyes and picked up a bag from the floor.

"We have some gifts for you, Mrs. Mikaelson," she teased.

"I'm not Mrs. Mikaelson, yet," you pointed out, taking a sip of the champagne.

"Oh please, the two of you act married already, he is the most whipped man I have ever seen," Rebekah said, sitting on the other side of the bed and passing a wrapped present to you.

You giggled at her comment, knowing it was true. You were a little surprised by how much he was willing to bend to your will. He was a stubborn man, but with you, he was a complete pushover. He told you once that he found it impossible to deny you anything, and that's how he knew you were the one.

You carefully unwrapped the gift and found a beautiful necklace, with a sapphire pendant, you held it up to the light, the rays bouncing off the gem and painting the walls of your room in blue light.

"It's beautiful," you said, smiling at the girls.

"It's something blue, from Freya," Rebekah explained, as Freya fastened it around your neck.

"I spelled it so you can always find each other, no matter where you are. So when you are away, you can always feel him close to you," she explained.

You were touched by her thoughtfulness, touching the stone as it rested against your chest. You couldn't explain it, but it did feel like him, like he was right beside you.

"Thank you, Freya," you said, squeezing her hand.

"Okay now mine!" Rebekah interrupted, holding her present out to you. "Something old,"

You grinned and took the large box from her, opening it to find a beautiful vintage corset, along with a matching set of lace underwear and stockings.

"Rebekah, these are gorgeous!" You said, running your fingers over the intricate designs.

"They're vintage, of course," she said, proudly. "Elijah is rather fond of that time period, I thought they might... inspire him," she added, winking.

You blushed, he didn't need any encouragement in the bedroom, you were certain of that.

"My gift is next," Hayley said, holding out her gift to you. "Something new, and I'm really sorry, but they aren't quite as classy as the last two," she said, nervously.

You took the bag and opened it, it was full of luxury naughty nightwear, baby dolls, bras, panties, a silk robe, all in different colors and fabrics. Along with a few sex toys and a pair of handcuffs.

"I had to get you something practical," she said, with a smirk.

"I love it, thank you," you said, giggling. "I will certainly put them to good use,"

"Okay now mine, it's something borrowed," Camille said, handing you a small box.

You opened the velvet box and found a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings, with a matching bracelet.

"Camille, these are beautiful," you breathed, examining the sparkling jewels.

"They've been in my family for a long time, they belonged to my grandmother," she explained, clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

You looked at your wrist and smiled, your friends were the most wonderful women you had ever met, they had been so welcoming and so supportive, and now here they were, giving you the best gifts ever.

"Thank you, all of you, so much. This has been the best morning," you said, pulling them all in for a group hug.

"More champagne!" Rebekah exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and topping up everyone's glass.

"We still have the day to go, I'm going to have a terrible hangover at my own wedding," you pointed out, taking a large sip anyway.

"Not for long," Rebekah said, a mischievous smile on her face.

The wedding party went quiet, everyone knew exactly what she was talking about, that Elijah was planning to turn you after the reception.

"It's really happening then, tonight?" Hayley asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling about it?" She asked.

"A little nervous, I guess," you admitted. "But excited,"

"It's a big decision, are you sure you are ready for it?" Freya asked, putting her arm around you.

"Absolutely. I've never been more sure of anything," you said, without hesitation.

"You'll make a lovely one," Rebekah added, pulling you out of bed and to your feet.

"Come on, we have a lot to do, the hair and makeup people will be here in an hour, and I need to make sure you eat something first," she said, ushering you towards the bathroom.

"And then we can finally see this dress!" Hayley added, excitedly.

The five of you spent the rest of the morning in a flurry of activity, the girls made sure you ate and drank water, despite how much champagne was flowing. The hairdresser and makeup artist did wonders, and then finally, it was time for the dress.

You had put on the vintage corset and underwear, rolling up the stocking and clipping them in place. The girls helped you step into the gown, fastening the buttons up the back, before you stood in front of the mirror.

Rebekah started to cry and Freya and Camille put their arms around her, all of them staring at you.

"Are you okay, Bekah?" You asked, looking at her reflection.

She wiped her tears and sniffed. "He's going to faint when he sees you,"

The four of them laughed and you turned around, holding out your hands.

"Well, let's go get married,"

The music started as you entered the garden, and everyone stood, turning to look at you.

It was like a fairytale.

Your eyes were on Elijah the entire time, his eyes were a bit glassy and he was nervously playing with his hands. Klaus handed him a tissue, patting his shoulder and Rebekah hooked her arm in yours , guiding you down the aisle.

"No fainting yet," you whispered to Rebekah, making her giggle.

"I promise I will catch him if he does," she whispered back.

He held out his hand to you when you finally reached him and you took it, Rebekah handing your bouquet to Hayley.

"Hello," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied, smiling down at you, his brown eyes warm and loving.

"You look perfect," he said, softly.

"So do you," you said, grinning at him.

Klaus cleared his throat and began to speak.

"We are gathered here today, to join Elijah and Y/n in matrimony. They have both written their own vows, so Elijah, you may start,"

Elijah squeezed your hands and smiled at you, his eyes soft and full of love.

"My love, you are the one that I have waited centuries for. The one who brings light into my life. I love you so much, I will be forever grateful that I found you. I promise to spend every day of eternity showing you how much I love and cherish you. Thank you for agreeing to marry me, thank you for loving me," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You felt tears in your eyes as he finished speaking, reaching up and brushing a tear away with his thumb. The crowd aww'd at his words, and the entire wedding party dabbed at their eyes with tissues.

"I'm afraid my vows are going to sound a little lame after that," you teased, making Elijah chuckle.

"Elijah," you began. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You have always been there for me, through good and bad, you have taken care of me, supported me, loved me. I know my heart is safe with you. You have always said you would give me the world, and I know you will, and I want to give you mine, for as long as I live,"

Elijah's eyes became glassy again and he took a deep breath, fighting back his tears.

"Do we have the rings?" Klaus asked.

You glanced down the aisle to see Hope toddling towards you, with a pillow in her hands. Everyone watched her and she reached you, proudly handing the rings to her uncle.

"Thank you, darling," Elijah said, ruffling her hair.

"You may exchange the rings," Klaus said, Hope was now clinging to his leg, watching the ceremony with fascination.

Elijah slipped the ring on your finger, and you did the same, looking down at the two silver bands. You realized that your ring had a lapis lazuli stone embedded in the metal, the one that would allow you to walk in the sunlight when you were a vampire.

"Elijah, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," he replied, staring deep into your eyes.

"Y/n, do you take Elijah as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"Well then, by the power invested in me by a monk in the 12th century, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,"

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His hands moved down your back, tilting you backwards, dipping you. The guests cheered and applauded, and the photographer snapped pictures.

"I love you," he said, whispering the words into your mouth.

"I love you, Mr. Mikaelson," you said, grinning.

He pulled you up, his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were flushed, his happiness radiating off him.

"Mrs. Mikaelson," he said, softly.

You kissed him again, the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, his arms holding you tight against him.

"Let's get this party started!" Marcel yelled, causing a cheer from the crowd.

The two of you made your way back down the aisle, and back into the house. As soon as you were inside, you pulled Elijah in for a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"We are married," you said, giggling.

"Indeed we are," he replied, smiling.

"Can't we skip the party, and just go upstairs now?" You asked, kissing him again.

"My greedy little wife," he teased. "Don't worry, tonight will be worth the wait,"

The compound was elaborately decorated, with lights and flowers hanging everywhere, and the guests were laughing and dancing, having a great time.

You sat at a table near the dance floor with your new husband, watching everyone. His hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing it gently every so often.

It was getting late, the sun had set and the guests were getting more and more drunk. The music slowed and the couples swayed together, some kissing and holding each other tight.

"So," Elijah whispered in your ear. "How are you feeling about tonight?"

"I can't wait," you said, turning to look at him. "I just can't wait for us to start our lives together,"

"Me either, sweetheart," he said, brushing his lips against your temple. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I want this." You placed a hand on his cheek. "More than anything."

He let out a long sigh, his hand squeezing your thigh tighter. But he didn't say anything else.

After a moment, he stood up and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?"

You took his hand and he led you out to the dance floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your hips.

The two of you danced slowly to the music, lost in each other's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked him, breaking the silence.

"Nothing." He replied, smiling softly, looking away.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Mikaelson."

He chuckled. "Fine. I'm thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am."

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly.

The two of you continued slow dancing and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm nervous," He admitted, softly his hands running up and down your back.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. "Why?"

"I don't want to see you die," He looked into your eyes, and you could see the pain behind them. "I don't want to watch the light leave your eyes, and not be able to do anything about it."

You cupped his cheek and stroked it. "I'll come right back, Elijah. You have nothing to worry about."

He nodded, then leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. His hands on your hips, slowly guiding you, the two of you still moving to the music.

After a few minutes, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I don't think I'm capable of not worrying about you." He said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well," You whispered, smiling up at him. "That's something we have in common, then."

His hands were on your lower back, his fingertips tracing patterns on the soft fabric.

"Do you remember when we met?" He asked, looking down at you.

"I do." You said, giggling. "It was the most cliché thing ever, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You were wearing a green dress." He recalled. "You were trying to get a book from the top shelf at this little bookstore. You had climbed onto a chair and were stretching your arm as far as you could, but you just couldn't reach it. And I thought, 'that's the most adorable thing I've ever seen'."

You laughed, remembering how flustered you'd been. "And then, I dismissed your attempt to help me as being creepy,"

"Until you tripped over your own feet and fell into my arms." He reminded you, a smirk on his face.

"You caught me, though." You whispered.

"That I did," he murmured. "And I will always catch you."

You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I'm glad," you said.

His hands moved lower, grabbing your ass, and pulling you closer. You blushed and looked around quickly, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to you.

"I remember something else about the day we met," he whispered in your ear.

You looked up at him and smiled. "What?"

"How you looked in my bed that night, the soft little moans you made," he teased.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you. The memory still fresh in your mind.

"You have a way of making me lose all sense," you said, breathlessly.

"I know," he smirked, his eyes sparkling, "I've got you right where I want you."

You giggled, burying your face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

"You are so bad," you whispered.

He hummed in agreement, squeezing your ass once more, causing you to let out a little squeak.

"We should say goodbye to our guests," he murmured. "There is a car waiting,"

You nodded and let him guide you around, saying goodbye to all the guests. They followed the two of you out to the courtyard, and then they began throwing rice and rose petals, while the two of you got into the waiting car.

As the car drove away, the guests cheered and you couldn’t help the huge grin on your face, waving at them until they were out of sight.

Elijah's hand rested on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the city go by.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going?" You asked, glancing at him.

"There's this lakehouse, about an hour from here. It's a quiet, private place, not even my siblings know about it." He said, pulling your hand into his lap.

"You didn't tell anyone about it?" You asked, a little shocked.

"Not a soul," he said, smiling. "I've had a few secret hideaways over the years, but this one is special."

"Why is that?" You asked.

"It's where I go to get away from everything, to clear my head and recharge," he explained. "And now, it's going to be our special place,"

"That's sweet," you said, kissing his cheek.

The drive seemed to take forever, but finally the car turned onto a long driveway. Elijah helped you out of the car, and then he scooped you into his arms.

"You are such a romantic," you said, giggling.

"I try," he teased, carrying you inside.

He set you down in the entryway, and then took your hand, leading you around. It was a gorgeous home, and it was obvious that Elijah had put a lot of work into it.

But he didn't give you much time to admire it, before he was on you, quickly dragging you to the bedroom.

His hands roaming your body, his mouth crashing onto yours, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Don't you dare rip my wedding dress Mr. Mikaelson," you breathed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his hands gently tugging the fabric.

You giggled and pushed him away, holding his gaze, then you turned and looked over your shoulder at him, motioning to the buttons going down your back.

His fingers deftly undid the small buttons, taking his time, as if he was savoring each one. He kissed along the back of your neck and shoulders, pushing the straps of the dress off, and letting it fall to the ground.

His hands went to your waist, helping you step out of the dress, and he knelt down, picking it up and placing it carefully on a nearby chair.

"Such a gentleman," you said, softly.

His gaze roamed over your body, admiring the way the lingerie clung to your skin, accentuating every curve.

"Gorgeous," he said, stepping closer, his fingers tracing along the boning of the corset.

Your hands went to his chest, reaching up to undo his bowtie. He watched your hands, his eyes darkening with desire.

You tossed the tie aside, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, your hands continuing their path.

When you got to his pants, you stopped, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You ran your finger along his waistband, teasing him.

He groaned and picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck.

In an instant you were on the bed, the speed of vampires never ceased to amaze you. You lay there, looking up at him, your hair fanning out around your head, and you couldn't help but grin.

"Will you teach me to do that?" You asked, referring to the vamp speed.

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing your cheek. "Of course, my love. I will teach you everything you need to know."

You smiled, then reached up and pulled him down, crushing your lips together. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel the bulge in his pants.

"What else can you teach me?" You whispered, biting your lip and looking into his eyes, trying to look all sweet and innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darkening. "Lots of things."

You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly. "I can't wait."

He grinned and leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands moving all over your body, caressing and squeezing.

"But first I'm going to take this corset off." He said, his fingers trailing down your chest and finding the ribbons. "I'm going to untie it slowly, and then I'm going to kiss every inch of your skin."

You let out a small gasp, his words sending a wave of arousal through you. He pressed his hips harder against your hand, still working to slowly untie the first ribbon.

"I'm going to make you come all over my tongue," He said, his voice raspy and low, working on loosening the second ribbon, pulling it free. "Over," He tugged on the third, "And over," the fourth, "And over."

You moaned, his words making you dizzy, and he grinned, pulling the last ribbon loose.

The corset fell away, and Elijah quickly pulled it from you, tossing it aside. His hands were on your breasts immediately, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, causing them to harden.

He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out and swirling around one nipple, before sucking it into his mouth.

You were panting, your hands gripping the sheets, watching as he made his way down, slowly removing your panties. He kissed his way up your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

He looked up at you and smirked, then slowly lowered his head, groaning as he licked a broad stroke over your pussy.

You gasped, arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them further apart, his tongue teasing and licking at your clit.

You were in heaven. The sounds he was making, the way he was devouring you, it all felt incredible. You couldn't help the moans and whimpers escaping from your throat, only fueling him on.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of him between your legs, the way his gaze would meet yours sent a thrill through you. He looked so content and satisfied, his eyes hooded, his tongue working you expertly.

He suddenly slipped a finger inside you, curling it against your walls, searching for that sweet spot. When he found it, he smirked, picking up the pace of his tongue lapping at your clit.

You came undone in seconds. Your walls clenched around his finger and your back arched, crying out his name.

He lifted his head, staring up at you, his eyes black. He licked his lips and winked at you, two of his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

He looked down at your flushed face and swollen lips, watching your body coming down from your high. You were always so beautiful after an orgasm. He could always coax these little spasms out of you afterwards, making you moan even more.

"I love you." He whispered. "My perfect wife."

With a wicked smirk, he slid a third finger in, curling against your g-spot, a delighted squeak escaping your lips as you squeezed his fingers.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you," He said, his voice slow and gruff, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Watching you come like this, every night."

He continued to pump his fingers, with firm and steady strokes, the pressure building and building. Your body began to tense again, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. He grinned, watching you fall apart for him.

Your body started to shake, the waves of pleasure hitting you again and again, as you came on his fingers. He captured your lips in a rough kiss, swallowing your moans.

You collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, the aftershocks still rolling through you. Elijah leaned down and kissed your neck, nuzzling against you.

"My wife," he said, savoring the way it sounded.

You giggled, still feeling a bit floaty. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him. He was so handsome, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes shining with love and affection.

"My husband," you said, reaching up and brushing some hair out of his eyes.

He smiled, his hands tracing along your bare skin. "You don't have to turn tonight, if you're not ready,"

You shook your head, smiling. "No, I want to. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Eli," you said, cupping his cheek. "I'll be okay,"

His expression turned a bit serious, his eyes flashing with worry.

"You're my whole world, I won't lose you," he said, kissing you deeply.

"You won't lose me," you said, softly.

"Promise?" He asked, his hand moving to your cheek, stroking it gently.

"I promise," you said, your heart fluttering.

He gently pushed your legs apart, his fingers stroking your thigh, the touch sending sparks through you.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he said, positioning himself between your legs.

"I know," you said, gasping when you felt him ease into you, slowly and gently.

"I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing your lips, as he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper. "More than anything,"

"I love you, too." You gasped, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.

One of his hands went to the small of your back, the other cradling behind your neck. He held you to him, forehead to forehead, his eyes boring into yours.

He rocked his hips, grinding against you, filling you completely. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, then his lips pressed against yours, whispering how much he loved you.

You felt as though your heart beats were the same, the way it was pounding in your chest, in time with his. The way he held you like this, close and tight, it was everything.

The heat and friction began building between you, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The air filled with the sounds of your moans and sighs, your bodies moving together.

You could feel another orgasm building, your breath coming in short, ragged pants. He seemed to sense this, his pace picking up, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want you to come with me," he said, his voice husky and low, as his hips drove into you, over and over.

"Yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his back, leaving crescent moon marks in his skin.

Together, you let go, your bodies trembling and shuddering, clinging to each other. He buried his face in your neck, groaning, his teeth scraping your skin.

You lay there for a few moments, holding each other, your breathing slowly returning to normal. His lips were still against your neck, his arms wrapped around you.

"Elijah?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Mmm?" He mumbled, not wanting to move.

"I know how I want to die," you said, quietly.

He pulled back, looking at you. ". . . You do?"

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, you weren't sure if he would be willing to do this for you.

"I want you to drink from me," you said, softly.

His eyes widened, a look of shock on his face.

"I mean, only if you're okay with it. We can find a different way... You can just snap my neck like we originally planned... I just thought...," you said, quickly, starting to ramble.

He cut you off with a deep, passionate kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asked, once the kiss broke.

You nodded, a shy smile on your face.

"Absolutely."

"Alright, but if it gets too much, tell me. We can always stop," he said, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Okay," you said, nodding.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. His hands on your hips, he didn't move for a moment, just looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm ready Elijah... I want this," you said, cupping his face, and brushing your lips against his.

He kissed you softly, with pure tenderness and love. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the conflicting emotions running through him. Fear, happiness, sorrow, joy.

You stroked his cheek, reassuring him.

"I love you," he said, biting down on his wrist and bringing it to your lips.

"I love you, too," you whispered, taking his blood into your mouth, his free arm wrapping around your waist.

His wrist fell away, and he tilted his head, pressing his lips to yours. Then, he kissed a trail down your neck, stopping right over the vein.

You could feel the sharpness of his fangs, his mouth ghosting across your skin. His hands moved to your back, rubbing it soothingly. He was still hesitating.

Your hands gripped his chest, preparing for the sting of pain, the dark shroud of death that awaited you.

His fangs sank into you, and your body jerked. But the pain was fleeting, as the pleasure began to take over. His hands moved up and down your back, pulling you closer, his mouth working over the bite.

He was so gentle, and tender, the way he was holding you, caressing you. It made your heart swell with love, as the blood flowed from you.

He drank slowly, savoring the taste of your blood, listening to your heart beating slower, your breathing becoming shallower.

He could feel your life force slipping away, the blood no longer rushing through your veins. He felt an almost uncontrollable fear, and he had to fight the urge to let go.

You began to drift away, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision. Your eyes fluttered shut, your heart skipping a beat, before it came to a complete stop.

He pulled his mouth away, and pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling on your face.

He let out a choked sob, the anguish of losing you was too much. He knew you would return, but in this place of nothingness, the void, it was all too real.

Your body was cuddled into his, your head resting in his shoulder, the wound on your neck still oozing blood.

He closed his eyes, and focused on the future, of all the things he would teach you. The places he would take you. The adventures you would have.

He was going to make the most of this eternity with you.

It didn't take long for your heart beat to return, or for you to stir. Your eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light.

"Eli?"

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling.

You returned his smile, snuggling against him, and sighing.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his arms tightening around you.

"Hungry."

He laughed, stroking your hair. "I have just the thing for that,"

You nodded, sitting up, and looking at him. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed with red, his hair tousled.

"Have you been crying?" You asked, gently.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

You kissed him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"It's alright, my love. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

"Good," he said, letting out a shaky breath.

He held you, his hands stroking your back, your hair.

You lay there for a while, in the safety of his arms, before he pulled away, and smiled at you.

He reached for a blood bag he had gotten ready, and handed it to you. You tore into the bag, and drank deeply. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were, until you tasted the blood. It was sweet, and thick, and it was exactly what you needed.

He watched your eyes turn black, dark veins snaking underneath them, and smiled. You were beautiful.

When you were done, he tossed the bag aside, and wrapped his arms around you again.

"So, what happens now?" You asked, your eyes searching his.

"We live.”

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Love in the Times of Charles | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Y/N and Max are on a stealth mission to keep their relationship under wraps. But with rumors swirling faster than a car at Monza, Charles's overprotective instincts kick in—cue the concerned brother alarms! Meanwhile, the boys offer about as much help as a flat tire, with plans so ridiculous they might just need a pit crew. Will Y/N and Max dodge Charles’s protective wrath, or will this love story end up in the wall? Strap in; it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N: just wanted to ask if anyone feels annoyed or don't like it when smau fics have story parts? like I don't want to do the confessions and some of the things on text and I wanna write about some of the behind the scenes too and the only way to do that is to write it in a story format but apparently some people don't like that? like what is you guy's consensus on this?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Part 5 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Thought coffee was gonna be the most stable thing in my life but even that got replaced by matcha ☕️💔

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Did the coffee leave you for someone else too?

      ↪ y/n_leclerc :

At least coffee doesn’t need a grid penalty to get close to me.

      ↪ danielricciardo:

This roast is hotter than the coffee 👀

      ↪ charles_leclerc:

Don't make me call FIA on both of you.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc :

Charles, pls, I’m still recovering from your last safety briefing.

      ↪ landonorris:

Max back to roasting? Is this the plot twist we’ve been waiting for?

user1:

Why are they roasting each other again? What happened to 'Max is definitely into her'?!

user2:

THE FLIRTING ERA IS OVER?? MAX AND Y/N ROAST ERA INCOMING 🚨

user3:

WE NEED ANSWERS. WHY ISN’T MAX FLIRTING ANYMORE??

DMs between Max and Y/N:

maxverstappen1:

Still thinking about our coffee date this morning. You looked way too good for just a casual date. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

Lol please, I literally rolled out of bed and threw on a hoodie. But I’m glad my ‘effortless chic’ fooled you. 😉

maxverstappen1:

Fooled me? No chance. I knew exactly what you were doing. Strategic as always. 😌

y/n_leclerc:

Strategic? I just wanted caffeine, Max. But if you’re calling my bedhead a ‘strategy’... sure, I’ll take it.

maxverstappen1:

Whatever you call it, it worked. Couldn’t stop staring at you.

y/n_leclerc:

Max. You’re so sappy today, what happened to your 'too cool' attitude?

maxverstappen1:

That went out the window the moment you started dating me. Now, I’m just soft. For you. 🥲

y/n_leclerc:

Soft Verstappen? I never thought I'd live to see the day.

maxverstappen1:

Only for you. Don’t tell the others, though. I have a reputation to uphold.

y/n_leclerc:

Your secret’s safe with me. But honestly, I’m loving whatever this is. Us, I mean.

maxverstappen1:

Same. This whole 'flirting in public and pretending everything’s normal' thing? Chef’s kiss. Watching people lose their minds over it is the best part.

y/n_leclerc:

It’s like we’re living rent-free in their heads. The comments are gold. Especially the ones trying to figure out what the hell is going on with us.

maxverstappen1:

Like the one saying we’re secretly married already? That one almost made me spit out my coffee. 😂

y/n_leclerc:

I saw that! They’ve got theories for days. The one where we’re 'just friends' but you’ve been flirting for a whole week straight? Love that for us.

maxverstappen1:

Right? Like, I was literally flirting non-stop, and now they think we’re back to picking fights with each other like nothing happened. 😂

y/n_leclerc:

We're driving them crazy and honestly, I’m having the time of my life watching it.

maxverstappen1:

Same. But I kinda miss not having to hold back on the flirting. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

Oh yeah? How would you even flirt if you didn’t have to hold back, Verstappen?

maxverstappen1:

I’d take you somewhere nice. Like, I don’t know, a fancy restaurant maybe? 😎

y/n_leclerc:

Smooth. Are you asking me out again?

maxverstappen1:

Depends. Are you saying yes?

y/n_leclerc:

Let’s say I’m free… where are you taking me?

maxverstappen1:

Somewhere where you won’t be able to just wear a hoodie. Gotta dress up for this one. 😉

y/n_leclerc:

A challenge. I accept.

maxverstappen1:

Perfect. Friday night. I’ll pick you up.

y/n_leclerc:

Can’t wait. 😘

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Dinner for one but looking like a 10 ✨

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

carmenmmundt:

You’re killing it! 💅 When’s our next girls' dinner??

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Whenever you’re ready to throw George’s credit card on the line again. 💳😉

      ↪ georgerussell63:

Excuse me, why is my financial ruin the theme of your dinners?

lilymhe:

Okay but where’s MY invite?? You look too good to be dining alone.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Lily, your absence was felt, the waiter asked where my better half was. 🥲

      ↪ alex_albon:

Pretty sure he asked that because you flirted for a free dessert.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

And it WORKED, Albono. That’s called strategy.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

Dinner for one? Weird, thought you’d be out there terrorizing other diners.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Terrorizing diners? Max, I’m not the one who scarfs food down like I’ve been starved for days.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

That’s called efficiency. You wouldn’t know, with how long you take to pick an outfit.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Efficiency? More like desperation. And excuse you, I picked this outfit in five minutes

      ↪ danielricciardo:

Efficiency is just code for ‘I’m hungry and scared of forks.’

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Daniel gets it. Max probably uses chopsticks like they’re drumsticks.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

Bold of you to assume I even use utensils.

      ↪ landonorris:

He just drinks soup straight from the bowl. Classy.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Honestly, that explains a lot.

      ↪ charles_leclerc:

What is happening in these comments?? Also, Y/N, you look great but maybe stop tormenting Max in public?

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

He does that all by himself, Charles. I’m just here for moral support.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

Your moral support feels more like public humiliation.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

You’d miss it if I stopped, Verstappen.

user4:

Y/N and Max fighting in the comments AGAIN, this is the content I live for.

user5:

Max is trying to pretend like he’s not impressed but we all know the truth.

user6:

Plot twist: Max was the one taking the picture at the restaurant.

alex_albon:

maxverstappen1 Why are you pretending you're not paying for that wine?

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

EWW who’d go to dinner with him??

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

And yet, here you are, missing me at dinner.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Not as much as you miss your table manners.

user7:

"Max & Y/N: Endless banter, zero chill."

user8:

Y/N is out here eating fine dining alone while dragging Max in the comments, living the DREAM.

user9:

At this point, they should just get married and keep roasting each other forever.

user10:

Wasn’t Max all flirty in the last chapter? WHAT HAPPENED?!

user11:

Max flirting era is over 😭

user12:

Plot twist: Max and Y/N are in a secret relationship where they flirt by insulting each other.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Monza weekend!! Supporting my favorite Ferrari boy, Charles! ❤️ Let’s get this Win!!

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 320,456 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

Let’s do this!

user13:

President of the Charles Leclerc fan club, reporting for duty.

user14:

As always, our queen is a Ferrari stan first.

user15:

She’s so loyal to Charles, I love it.

user16:

Imagine supporting a guy and then getting spotted at Red Bull later. Sis, pick a side!

user17:

Did anyone else see Y/N on the Red Bull side?? 👀 I smell drama.

landonorris:

Are you hyping Charles because you have to, or because you want to? Asking for Max.

user18:

Girl, why are there rumors you were seen near Red Bull? 👀

user19:

If I see Y/N at Red Bull again, I’m going full detective mode. Like, pick a lane!

user20:

MONZA DRAMA INCOMING 🚨 Did she swap allegiances?!

pierregasly:

Bet Max is gonna ‘conveniently’ miss this post.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

He’s too busy finishing ahead of you to notice.

      ↪ pierregasly:

Unnecessary.

maxverstappen1 posted a photo:

Caption: Calm before the storm. Let’s get it. 💪

Liked by charles_leclerc, y/n_leclerc, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

y/n_leclerc:

Storm? More like a light drizzle with a 10% chance of embarrassment.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

Says the girl who can’t walk in heels without tripping over nothing.

      ↪ georgerussell63:

This is the weirdest foreplay I’ve ever seen.

      ↪ alex_albon:

George said what we’re all thinking.

user21:

They fight like an old married couple but without the actual marriage.

f1_gossips tweeted:

SPOTTED: Y/N Leclerc cheering for Charles at Monza, but sources claim she was ALSO seen at the Red Bull garage earlier. Trouble in Ferrari paradise? Or is Y/N just mixing allegiances? Stay tuned for more.

Comments:

user22:

This girl is living her best double agent life.

user23:

Y/N is just here for the drama and we love it.

user24:

I’m convinced she’s trolling us all. A queen of chaos.

user25:

She’s doing what we all want to do—have a Ferrari brother and a Red Bull ‘friend’ 😂.

user26:

Ferrari fans about to lose it 😂

user27:

Plot twist: she’s there for the energy drinks.

user28:

She’s definitely with Max. No other explanation.

user29:

Charles is gonna crash into Max out of pure sibling rage, I can feel it.

user30:

Y/N in the Red Bull garage?! Someone call Charles, this is a scandal!

user31:

This is the chaos I signed up for. I NEED MORE TEA.

user32:

Not Y/N being Ferrari’s biggest fan and then sneaking over to Red Bull. Iconic.

user33:

Ferrari by day, Red Bull by night?

user34:

She’s playing both teams and we stan.

user45:

Charles has no idea his sister is secretly living a double life.

user36:

How long before Charles throws Max into a wall, tho?

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: CHARLES WINS AT MONZA! I TOLD Y’ALL 🔥 FORZA FERRARI, FORZA LECLERC 🚀❤️

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 520,439 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

Best fan out there ❤️ Grazie mille!

user37:

She’s literally the president of the Leclerc fan club.

user38:

Low-key love how Max isn’t even on her radar right now.

user39:

I give it 10 minutes before someone spots her with Max and the chaos starts.

user40:

This is why Y/N is the ultimate sister.

user41:

She’s living her best life as Ferrari royalty, honestly.

user42:

I’d celebrate Charles winning too, if I didn’t also think she was spotted on the Red Bull side.

user43:

Wait, no, seriously, can someone confirm if she was actually with Max at Red Bull today?

f1_gossips tweeted:

BREAKING: Charles Leclerc wins the Italian Grand Prix in stunning fashion! Meanwhile, sources at the post-race afterparty spotted Y/N Leclerc getting cozy with none other than Max Verstappen. Are the rumors true? Check out this pic below!

Comments:

user44:

Bigfoot and UFOs have more clarity than this pic, but I can still see Max.

user45:

Y/N said Ferrari win, but Max is the prize.

user46:

She went from Ferrari girl to Red Bull real quick after that win, huh?

user47:

Charles won the race, but Max won Y/N.

user48:

Y/N’s living her best ‘support Ferrari but flirt with Red Bull’ life.

user49:

Blurry or not, I KNOW that’s Max. The man’s silhouette is unmistakable.

user50:

Y/N and Max cuddling up after Charles' win?? Ferrari fans, we okay??

user51:

Monza afterparty tea is always the spiciest.

user52:

I can’t believe she’s out here celebrating with Max after her brother won.

user53:

Y/N’s like, ‘Congrats, Charles, but I gotta go check on my Red Bull guy real quick.’

user54:

This girl’s got her Ferrari heart and Red Bull eyes 👀.

user55:

Plot twist: Max and Y/N are secretly dating and just troll us all online for fun.

f1_gossips tweeted:

MORE DRAMA: After celebrating Charles’ win, Y/N Leclerc was allegedly spotted again at the Red Bull garage. The blurred lines between Ferrari and Red Bull have fans in a frenzy. Is Y/N really just here this weekend to ‘support her brother,’ or is something else brewing between her and Max Verstappen?

Comments:

user56:

I’m convinced she’s playing us all for fun.

user57:

Y/N’s trolling everyone, and honestly, I’m here for it.

user58:

I don’t care who she’s with, I just need answers!!

user59:

I swear Y/N’s gonna give me a heart attack with these mixed signals.

user60:

Charles winning, Y/N maybe dating Max, and blurry gossip pics—F1 drama is at an all-time high.

user61:

I’m starting to think Y/N is the real mastermind of the entire F1 circus.

user62:

Next race, Charles is taking Max out for ‘unrelated’ reasons. Bet.

DMs between Charles and Y/N:

charles_leclerc:

Y/N. WHAT IS THIS I’M SEEING ABOUT YOU AND MAX AT THE MONZA AFTERPARTY?!

y/n_leclerc:

Charles, relax. What are you even talking about?

charles_leclerc:

RELAX? I’ve seen the pictures! Cozying up with Max? The one guy you literally fight with all the time? What the hell is going on?!

y/n_leclerc:

Oh my god. First of all, I would rather fight a swarm of bees than 'cozy up' with Max. You really think I’d be into that? Insufferable, annoying, always-has-something-to-say Max?

charles_leclerc:

The pictures don’t lie, Y/N. You were standing way too close. What were you doing with him?!

y/n_leclerc:

We were arguing, obviously. You know that’s like our thing. Five minutes in the same room, and he’s already saying something dumb. I’m just trying to live my life, and he’s there, being all Max-y.

charles_leclerc:

Arguing? That’s it? You swear?!

y/n_leclerc:

Yes! We were literally just arguing. You know, me calling him a pain in the ass, him being all smug. Classic Max-and-Y/N content.

charles_leclerc:

Mon dieu, Y/N. You scared the hell out of me! The way these gossip pages were talking, I thought you two were about to get married or something. 😤

y/n_leclerc:

Married to Max? I’d rather shove my head in a tire wall. Relax, Charlie. Nothing is happening. It’s just Max being his annoying self, like usual.

charles_leclerc:

Okay, good. I don’t need that headache in my life. Gossip pages making a big deal out of nothing as always.

y/n_leclerc:

Yeah, chill out. Like I said, I’d rather throw myself into a DRS zone than let that happen. 😂

charles_leclerc:

Good. I thought I was going to have to block you from every race event if something was going on. Max Verstappen... ugh.

Groupchat: “The Snafu Society”

y/n_leclerc:

GUYS. WE HAVE A MASSIVE PROBLEM.

(sends screenshot of her convo with Charles)

What the hell am I supposed to do?? Charles is going to KILL me when he finds out I’m actually with Max and I lied about it!

lando.jpg:

Ohhhh, you are so screwed. 😂 Like, RIP Y/N. 💀 It was nice knowing you.

georgerussell63:

Big yikes. I’m sending flowers to your funeral. What’s your favorite color?

alex_albon:

Maybe you can tell him Max saved a kitten from a burning building? Or like… became a monk? You gotta soften the blow somehow. 🐱🔥

danielricciardo:

Tell him Max is actually a long-lost Leclerc cousin. Boom. Problem solved.

maxverstappen1:

EXCUSE ME?! A Leclerc cousin? Why am I suddenly part of the family? also that's incest?? 😂

y/n_leclerc:

I’m SERIOUS! He’s going to legit lose it! I’ve been stalling but… there’s no way out of this. What if he literally crashes into you on track, Max?? 😳

maxverstappen1:

Okay, calm down. He won’t crash into me… I hope. Maybe. Probably.

lando.jpg:

Definitely gonna crash into you. Like, 100%. F in the chat for Max.

danielricciardo:

New idea! Fake your own disappearance! Hide in a bunker until the season’s over. It’s flawless.

alex_albon:

Or just make Max wear a disguise next time you two are together. Like, put him in a Ferrari hat, maybe Charles won’t notice.

georgerussell63:

Ferrari hat? Genius. Max, you good with that? 

maxverstappen1:

NO. I’m not wearing a Ferrari hat. 😤

y/n_leclerc:

This is NOT helping, you guys! Max, are you just sitting there being all calm about this?

maxverstappen1:

Look, we’ll figure it out. Worst case, I’ll just charm him with my winning personality.

lando.jpg:

Winning personality, Max? The only thing Charles is winning is the fistfight with you when he finds out. 😂

danielricciardo:

Tell him you’re pregnant. Just drop it like a bomb. He’ll be too shocked to kill Max.

y/n_leclerc:

EXCUSE ME? Daniel, you’re banned from giving advice.

alex_albon:

Seconded.

georgerussell63:

Honestly, Charles is probably already suspicious. But Max, maybe send him a fruit basket to soften him up? 'Thanks for not killing me—yet.' 🍍

maxverstappen1:

Guys… Let’s just stay calm. We’ll tell him soon, and everything will be fine. Right, Y/N?

y/n_leclerc:

Fine?! I’m about to be disowned!

lando.jpg:

Don’t worry. We’ll visit you in exile. 😂

maxverstappen1:

Okay, okay. I’ll talk to him if I have to. Just… try not to panic. It’s me. Charles likes me… kinda. Right?

y/n_leclerc:

You wish, Max. He’s gonna use you as a traffic cone.

danielricciardo:

Let’s be honest. If anyone’s gonna crash into Max, it’s gonna be Arthur, just for fun. 😂

y/n_leclerc:

Great. Now I’m even more stressed.

lando.jpg:

And I know the perfect way to destress! drinks on me when we go back to monaco

f1_gossips tweeted:

🚨 Monaco Scandal: Y/N Leclerc and Max Verstappen Caught Kissing! 🚨

Hold onto your racing helmets, folks, because the latest tea is HOT! 🔥 Forget everything you thought you knew about Y/N and Max’s so-called “rivalry,” because sources in Monaco just served up some serious tea! 🍵rumour has it that Y/N Leclerc and Max Verstappen were spotted not only getting cozy while waiting for an elevator, but actually kissing. Yes, you read that right—kissing. 😳

According to eyewitnesses, they looked all kinds of cozy—like, too close for two people who “can’t stand each other.” To make it even juicier, Max was overheard calling Y/N “Schatje” and “Liefje.” Yes, you read that right. Pet names. Dutch pet names. 😱

They weren’t exactly trying to hide it either, full-on PDA while waiting for the elevator at a fancy Monaco Bar. With Max's arms around Y/N and her hand on his chest, it's safe to say things are heating up faster than a Monaco track in July. Is this the confirmation we've all been waiting for? Are they finally going public? Fans are losing their minds, and we are here for it. 👀💋

#MaxYN  #PlotTwistOfTheYear #ElevatorEscapade

Comments:

user63:

 WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. Max calling Y/N schatje AND liefje?!? I’m screaming. 🚨😱

user64:

 My man went from being jealous of the elevator guy to being the elevator guy himself

user65:

This is the enemies-to-lovers plot twist I didn’t know I needed.

user66:

 If Charles finds out, he’s gonna drive Max off the track. 😬

use67:

 Okay but I bet they were arguing over who pressed the elevator button first.

user68:

 What is miss girl’s obsession with elevators?!?!?

user69:

 So Max is soft now? Pet names and everything? I’m unwell.

user70:

I swear this whole time they’ve been pretending to hate each other, and now they’re cuddling in elevators. Someone explain. 😩

user71:

WAIT THEY WERE KISSING?! I was not emotionally prepared for this news. 😳

user72:

So Max’s love language is Dutch pet names and y/n's is elevator kisses? I’m dying.

user73:

KISSING in MONACO? This just became the most iconic off-track moment of the year.

user74:

I can't believe Max Verstappen of all people is out here calling Y/N "schatje" in public. 💀

user75:

Charles is gonna lose it when he finds out his sister is locking lips with his biggest rival. 💀

user76:

Monaco’s about to get real awkward if Charles runs into them... just saying.

Y/N woke up to the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing beside her. Her head pounded, and she felt like someone had stuffed cotton in her mouth. She blinked, trying to get her bearings, and slowly realized where she was: in Max’s bed, in Max’s apartment, with Max’s arm thrown lazily over her waist, holding her like they hadn’t just gotten plastered the night before.

For a moment, she lay there, wrapped in the heavy warmth of his arm draped across her stomach, trying to remember exactly how they ended up in this position. Her head throbbed with the unmistakable ache of too many drinks and too many bad decisions.

Max stirred next to her, shifting slightly but keeping his arm around her like it was a reflex. Y/N turned her head to look at him, his face still half-buried in the pillow, hair messy and slightly wild, looking so annoyingly cute it made her stomach do a weird little flip.

“Morning, Schatje,” he mumbled without even opening his eyes.

Y/N snorted. "Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops with the pet names this morning, huh? Wasn’t it ‘Liefje’ last night? I’m gonna need a Dutch dictionary just to keep up."

Max laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You should consider it. I’ve got a lot more where that came from. Besides, you’re cute when you’re all hungover and confused.”

Y/N groaned, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her face. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel like death.”

“Well, I think you look adorable,” Max replied, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She peeked out from under her arm, squinting at him. “You sure it’s not because your head is still spinning?”

“Maybe,” Max admitted, his smile growing. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Y/N giggled, poking his side. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

For a moment, they lay there in silence, enjoying the rare quietness of the morning. It was one of those rare, soft moments—no teasing, no sarcastic comments, just the two of them tangled together, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

“Why did we drink so much last night?” Y/N eventually asked, her voice muffled by Max’s chest.

“Because Lando dared us,” Max answered, sounding almost proud.

"Why do we listen to him?" Y/N groaned, her voice hoarse as she nuzzled deeper into Max’s chest.

Max chuckled, his voice still raspy with sleep. "Because he’s surprisingly persuasive for someone who looks like a lost child."

Y/N groaned again. “I’m never listening to that idiot again. We need to stop letting Lando be in charge of our nights.”

“I agree. Never let Lando dictate our fun again,” Max chuckled, shifting to press another kiss on her temple. “I’m officially banning him.”

“Good.” She sighed contentedly, closing her eyes for just a little bit longer. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Me too,” Max whispered softly.

She giggled, pulling the blanket up over her head to block out the sun. "I still feel like death though."

"Same." Max shifted slightly, brushing her hair away from her face. "But at least I’m dying next to you, Schatje."

"Please don’t," she grumbled, but she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. "Honestly, I blame you just as much as Lando. You were the one who said, ‘Let’s do tequila shots, it'll be fun!’"

"Because it was fun," Max shot back, smirking. "At least until we ended up making out in front of that elevator."

Y/N froze for a second before she groaned and threw a pillow over her face. "Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m still embarrassed."

Max rolled onto his side to face her, pulling the pillow off her head. "Why? You didn’t seem embarrassed at the time," he teased. "In fact, I seem to remember you being very enthusiastic about it."

Y/N’s face turned red. "Okay, okay, shut up!"

"I’m just saying." Max winked at her, then stretched, looking way too good for someone who was supposed to be hungover. "You looked cute."

"Great," she muttered, rolling her eyes but smiling. "Now I’m cute and dead."

Max snickered, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. "If you’re dead, I’m dead too, because Lando definitely spiked those drinks."

"Speaking of Lando, I’m pretty sure I need to blacklist him from my life," Y/N said, stretching lazily. She reached over the side of the bed and found her phone buried in her pile of clothes. "Let me see if he’s alive."

As soon as her phone powered on, it exploded with notifications. Text after text, missed call after missed call, all from the boys…and her brothers.

"Oh no," Y/N whispered, her eyes wide. She stared at the screen, frozen in horror. "Oh no, no, no." She scrolled through the chaos and saw that her brothers were leading the charge in spamming her. There were also dozens of missed calls, mostly from Charles, Arthur, and—“Why is Lorenzo involved? What the hell did we do last night?!”

Max, who was halfway to the bathroom, turned back around. "What’s wrong?"

Y/N held up her phone, showing him the sheer volume of missed calls. "Max, we’re screwed. We are so screwed."

Max’s eyebrows furrowed. "Who’s been calling?"

"Everyone. All the boys. My brothers. Even Lorenzo. And Arthur. This is a nightmare," Y/N said, her voice rising in panic.

Max blinked. "Lorenzo? That’s… that’s not good."

"No shit it’s not good!" Y/N shrieked, scrolling through her messages frantically. "I’m being hunted down by my entire family!"

Max grabbed his own phone from the nightstand, but it was dead. He shrugged. "I guess ignorance is bliss, huh?"

Y/N groaned, clutching her phone like it might explode. "You’re not helping, Max!"

She scrolled through the texts, all of which ranged from "CALL ME NOW!" to "What the hell is going on?" from Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo. Max peered over her shoulder, his brow furrowing.

"Okay, maybe it’s not that bad—" he started, but Y/N’s phone rang, cutting him off.

"Lando," Y/N muttered. "This idiot better have some answers." She answered the call. "Lando, what the hell did you do?!"

"Me?!" Lando’s voice screeched through the phone. "This isn’t my fault! I wasn’t the one making out with Max in front of an elevator!"

Y/N slapped her forehead, and Max burst into laughter. "Oh my God, Lando, seriously?!"

"Yes! Seriously!" Lando was practically hyperventilating on the other end of the call. "Photos got leaked from last night! You two were caught being all cozy, and now everyone knows. Charles called me at like 6 AM, and I thought I was gonna die. Arthur called next, and then Lorenzo—LORENZO! I had to confess, Y/N! I caved under pressure!"

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God, Lando!"

"I’m a dead man! You’re a dead woman! We’re all dead!" Lando rambled, his voice climbing an octave with each sentence. "Charles is pissed, Arthur is even worse, and Lorenzo…Lorenzo is probably getting a hitman involved. And now they’re all at your apartment waiting for you!"

"Wait, what? They’re at my apartment?!" Y/N shrieked.

"Yes!" Lando cried. "They’re waiting for you, Y/N! They want answers!"

Max, who had been listening in, leaned closer to the phone. "What exactly are they mad about?"

"MAX! Oh God, Max, you’re so dead," Lando screeched. "They saw the pictures of you two—holding hands, kissing, being all ‘Schatje’ this and ‘Liefje’ that. And now they want to know why no one told them."

Y/N buried her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

Lando continued rambling, clearly losing his grip on reality. "Charles was so mad, he almost broke his phone when I told him I knew about you two. And Arthur? He’s got murder in his eyes. Murder, Y/N. I’m not even safe!. Arthur called me ‘an accomplice,’ and I’m honestly afraid for my life right now.”

Y/N exchanged a horrified look with Max. "We’re all doomed," she muttered.

Max, surprisingly calm, shrugged. "I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?"

"Death, Max," Y/N replied, her voice shaking with disbelief. "The worst is death."

Lando piped up again. "You guys need to come up with a plan. Fast. Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo are about to storm the place like it’s a medieval siege."

Y/N was starting to spiral. "I need a plan! I need an escape route! I can’t face them like this!"

Max rubbed her back soothingly. "Relax, Schatje. We’ll go to your apartment, deal with them, and explain everything."

"Max, they’re gonna skin you alive," Y/N said, glaring at him. "You really think they’ll just let this slide? You’re dating their sister."

"And I’ll just tell them that I’ve got good intentions." Max smirked. "Maybe we can distract them with snacks."

"Lorenzo doesn’t do snacks," Y/N deadpanned.

Lando was still panicking on the other end. "I’m staying far away from this. You’re on your own!"

Y/N groaned. "Lando, you’re supposed to help!"

"I can’t help you if I’m dead, Y/N!" Lando whined. "I’m too pretty to die young!"

Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, let’s just get this over with."

Y/N looked at him, both amused and horrified. "You’re way too calm for someone who’s about to be slaughtered by my family."

Max winked at her. "I’ve got my secret weapon: my irresistible charm."

Lando’s voice piped up again. “If I don’t hear from you in the next 24 hours, I’ll assume you’ve both been murdered by Charles.”

"Yeah, you’re definitely gonna need more than that," Y/N muttered.

Lando interrupted one last time. "Good luck, guys. You’re gonna need it."

“Thanks, Lando. Very reassuring.” Y/N hung up and looked at Max, feeling the anxiety slowly building. “What do we do?”

Y/N tossed her phone onto the couch. She stood up, pacing the room. "This is bad. This is so bad. They’re probably already plotting my demise."

Max stood up and stretched, clearly unbothered. "I’ll take responsibility. I’ll tell them I made the first move."

Y/N laughed, despite the panic bubbling in her chest. "Oh, that’s gonna go over great."

"Don’t worry," Max said, walking over to her and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I’ll protect you."

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "You’re delusional."

"Maybe," Max grinned, "but I’m delusional for you."

Y/N shook her head, grabbing his hand. "Come on, let’s go. Might as well face the music before they break down my door."

"Or your phone," Max quipped.

Y/N glared at him. "This is all your fault."

Max smirked. "Maybe. But you love me anyway."

She groaned but didn’t deny it, knowing full well that Max was right—about both things.

Y/N ran her hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down. “Okay, okay. We’ll go back to my apartment and figure this out.”

Max stood up, stretching. “I’ll make sure to bring snacks for the interrogation.”

Y/N laughed, despite herself. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“Maybe I like living dangerously,” Max said, smirking.

“Or maybe you just have a death wish.”

“Either way,” Max replied, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek, “I’m with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “Well, you better be. Because we’re both about to face the firing squad.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[rootedinrevisions]

Cowboys & Angles (Kinktober 2024: Day 3)

SUMMARY: After years of playful flirting and a deep-rooted friendship, you and Tyler Owens find yourselves crossing the line between friends and lovers when he returns home for the fall. What starts as a fun, teasing night at the local bar quickly turns into something more when Tyler finally takes his shot. But as feelings are laid bare, both of you must confront what this means for your relationship—because for Tyler, you've always been more than just a friend, and he’s ready to prove it if you let him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I first decided to do Kinktober, I was planning on doing a bunch of drabbles (my goal is for them to be at or under 1k words). But kind of like with yesterday's, as I was writing this one it kind of just took off and I kept going and now here we are at over 5k words! So I think Kinktober is probably going to be a mix of both shorter drabbles and longer fics! I will also be mixing up characters/fandoms so Kinktober will have a mix of my Glen Powell characters as well as some WWE/Wrestling, and I may be introducing a few new characters I haven't written for yet too!

PROMPT: "I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me."

KINK: Cowboy Hat / Cowboy Hat Rule

WARNINGS: Teasing. 18+ SMUT. (P in V Sex.)

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The bar was quieter than usual for a Saturday night. The usual hum of conversation was replaced by a few scattered groups of locals enjoying their drinks in the dim, amber glow of the overhead lights. You leaned on the counter, wiping down a glass as the front door swung open with a faint creak. The familiar sound made your heart jump before you even saw who it was.

Tyler Owens.

He strode in with that easy confidence, his tall frame filling the doorway for a second before he glanced around the room, spotting you instantly. A slow grin spread across his face, and he tipped his cream-colored Stetson in your direction before making his way toward the bar. You hadn’t seen him in months, not since he’d been off chasing storms across the country, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Well, if it isn’t Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler himself,” you teased as he reached the bar.

“Back in town for a little while. Thought I’d drop by and see what kind of trouble you’ve been getting into.” His voice was smooth, that southern drawl rolling off his tongue like honey, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Amber, the other bartender, had been subtly hinting that she could use the extra tips if you wanted to take the rest of the night off for the last half hour. The bar wasn’t too busy, so you figured now was as good a time as any to give her the extra tips and catch up with Tyler. Setting the glass down, you unhooked your apron.

“Amber, you’re up. I’m clocking out,” you called over your shoulder. She practically beamed at you in response, already moving to take over.

Sliding onto the stool next to Tyler, you felt a familiar warmth wash over you—not from the two drinks you had in front of you, but from the easy energy that always existed between the two of you. You’d known Tyler since high school, and while your friendship had always teetered on the edge of something more, nothing had ever come of it. Flirting was just part of your dynamic.

“So, you’re back home, huh? Storm season finally winding down?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, things are quietin’ down. I thought I’d stick around town for a bit. Y appreciate the peace and quiet without me stirring things up?” He teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Oh, sure. It’s been so peaceful without you around,” you replied with a playful eye roll, though the truth was you’d missed him more than you wanted to admit.

After another round of drinks, your inhibitions softened but far from impaired, you reached out and plucked the Stetson right off Tyler’s head. The hat had always been his signature look, and you couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him a little. You placed it on your own head, adjusting it with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You know there’s a rule about wearin’ a cowboy’s hat, don’t you?” His voice was low, but there was something underlying it now, a challenge.

You feigned innocence, leaning in slightly. “Oh? And what rule might that be?”

His eyes darkened ever so slightly, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before he leaned back in his chair, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

“Never mind,” he said, his voice huskier now, “you wouldn’t be interested.”

But you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear. “Oh, I know the rule, Tyler. I just wanted to see what you’d do about it.”

There it was—the shift. His expression hardened ever so slightly, but that teasing smirk was still there, hanging on the edge of something more. He didn’t say anything, just gave you that look, the one that always sent a spark straight through you.

Without breaking eye contact, you stood and made your way toward the corner of the bar where the old mechanical bull sat. It hadn’t been used much recently, but it was still in working order. Tyler’s eyes followed you, curiosity piqued. You glanced over your shoulder, the Stetson still perched on your head as you grinned mischievously.

“Start her up,” you called to one of the other employees, hopping onto the mechanical bull. You adjusted your seat, settling in comfortably as the machine started to hum to life.

Tyler's gaze was locked on you now, his arms folded across his chest, leaning back in his chair as if to say, Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.

The bull started slow, rocking gently, but you handled it like a pro. With each buck, your eyes stayed locked on Tyler’s, never wavering. You could see the way his jaw tightened slightly, how his hands gripped the beer bottle in his hands every so tightly as the intensity of the ride increased. His hat sat firmly on your head, and you couldn’t help but grin as you imagined the thoughts running through his mind.

Finally, the bull jerked sharply, and you were thrown off, landing on your feet in a flurry of laughter and adrenaline. Without missing a beat, you sauntered back over to where Tyler sat, your steps light and confident.

“So,” you teased, pulling his hat off your head and spinning it around on your finger, “what was that rule again?”

Tyler’s eyes were darker now, his gaze intense as he reached out, plucking the hat from your hand and setting it back on his own head. He stood up slowly, towering over you, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, lips close to your ear.

“I’m already dyin’ to take you right now,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t tempt me.”

Your heart raced at his words, your playful bravado wavering for a split second as the tension between you thickened. But you couldn’t help yourself—you were never one to back down from a challenge. You met his gaze head-on, your lips curving into a daring smile.

“Well,” you whispered back, voice full of teasing confidence, “maybe I’m countin’ on that.”

The playful tension hung thick in the air, the space between you and Tyler charged with unspoken desire. His hat back on his head, Tyler’s eyes lingered on yours, darker than before, filled with something new—something inevitable. He stepped closer, and before you could say anything, his hand gently cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, the kiss firm yet unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than either of you cared to admit. Your body responded instinctively, leaning into him, one hand gripping the edge of his flannel shirt as the heat of the kiss spread through you. The years of playful back-and-forth, of near-misses and flirtatious glances, melted away into this one moment of pure, electric connection.

Around you, the few regulars left in the bar had noticed. A couple of whistles and cheers rang out, a playful acknowledgment of what everyone in your small town had suspected for years. But their noise faded into the background as you ignored them completely, lost in the feel of Tyler’s lips on yours.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb still gently stroking your cheek. “You good?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper, eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You nodded, breathless but smiling. “More than good.”

He gave you that signature grin, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the door. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, the warmth of the bar replaced by the crisp breeze of the fall evening. Tyler didn’t let go of your hand as he led you to his truck, parked just out front, the red Dodge pickup outfitted in storm-chasing gear that you’d ridden in countless times before. But this time felt different.

Tyler opened the passenger door, turning to you with an extended hand to help you up. His touch was gentle, but there was a quiet intensity in the way he guided you into the seat. Once you were settled, he made his way around the front of the truck, climbing into the driver’s side and turning the engine over with a low rumble.

As he shifted the truck into gear, he glanced over at you, his lips curving into a smirk. “So, where to? Your place, or mine?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yours.”

The smirk deepened into a grin. “Good choice.”

With that, he pulled out onto Main Street, the quiet stretch of road that ran through the heart of your small town. The familiar sights blurred past as the truck rumbled westward, toward the outskirts where Tyler’s place sat nestled among the trees. You leaned back in the seat, the thrill of the night coursing through you, heart racing as anticipation built with every passing mile.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it only made the air more electric. Tyler’s hand rested on the gearshift, his knuckles brushing yours every so often, the simple contact sending a rush of warmth through you. You glanced over at him, taking in the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his focus stayed steady on the road, but there was an undeniable tension in his posture, like he was holding himself back.

The drive out to Tyler’s place was familiar but felt brand new in the charged atmosphere. Every turn in the road, every familiar landmark, passed by in a blur until finally, the gravel road leading up to his house came into view. The soft crunch of tires on gravel filled the quiet as he slowed the truck, pulling up beside the small, rustic house you’d been to more times than you could count.

But tonight, everything felt different. Tonight, it felt like everything had been leading to this moment.

Tyler parked the truck and turned off the engine, the silence of the night settling in around you as he turned to face you. That smirk was back, but now, there was a fire behind it, his gaze locked on yours as if daring you to make the next move.

Without a word, he opened his door and came around to your side, opening it for you and offering his hand once again. You took it, heart pounding as you stepped down from the truck, feeling the solid ground beneath your feet but still floating on the rush of what was about to happen.

As the door closed behind you, Tyler tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close. His lips found yours again, this time slower, softer, like he was savoring the moment. You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard in the stillness of the night. His voice was rough, barely more than a whisper, as he asked, “You ready?”

You nodded, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his flannel, your voice soft but steady. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Tyler’s lips brushed against yours one last time before he pulled back, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. You barely had a moment to wonder what he was up to before his hands slid down to your waist, fingers gripping with a possessive but playful strength. 

With a quick, effortless motion, he hoisted you up and over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. A squeal of surprise escaped your lips as you suddenly found yourself looking at the world upside down, your hands instinctively grabbing onto the back of his flannel to steady yourself. 

“Tyler!” you protested, half-laughing, half-scolding as you kicked your feet, trying to wriggle free. “You’re going to fall if you keep carrying me like this!”

His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he tightened his hold on you. “You think I can’t handle it?” he teased, his voice laced with humor as he started up the stairs toward his bedroom, his stride steady and sure. “I’ve carried heavier stuff than you during storm season, sweetheart. You’re light work.”

You squirmed again, the sensation of being tossed over his shoulder making you feel both thrilled and embarrassed, but the grin on your face was impossible to hide. “You’re gonna regret it if you drop me!” you warned, trying to sound serious but failing miserably as laughter bubbled up from your chest.

“I’m not dropping you,” he assured, his tone dripping with confidence. “But keep squirming, and I might just have to remind you who’s in charge here.” Tyler just laughed, one arm hooked securely around your legs while his free hand swatted playfully at your ass.

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, please, Tyler. You think you’re so—”

Before you could finish the sentence, he gave your ass another playful smack, the sound echoing off the walls as he continued up the stairs. This one was a little harder than the first. 

“That’s for doubting me,” he quipped, his voice teasingly low, the heat between the two of you rising again despite the lighthearted moment.

You huffed, still trying to act indignant despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. “Alright, alright! Just get me upstairs in one piece, cowboy.”

He chuckled again, finally reaching the top of the stairs and carrying you effortlessly down the hallway toward his bedroom. The door creaked as he pushed it open with his foot, the room bathed in the soft, dim light of a single lamp in the corner. 

Tyler walked straight to the bed, carefully lowering you down onto the mattress as if he were laying down something precious. Your heart was still racing, your skin flushed from the thrill of it all. You looked up at him, catching your breath as he stood there, grinning like the devil himself. 

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the playful glint never left his eyes.

You smiled back, your heart still pounding, but now for a different reason entirely. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter, more breathless. “I’m okay.”

Tyler leaned down, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering against your skin for just a moment before he gave you a wink. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The playful spark in Tyler’s eyes softened as he leaned over you, his hands resting gently on either side of your body, caging you in without making you feel trapped. His gaze locked onto yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was anticipation. 

Slowly, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that started soft but deepened with every passing second, the heat between you building once again.

His hands, large and warm, began a slow exploration. He started at your hips, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist before moving up to your sides, sending a shiver through your body. His hands stopped when they reached the bottom of your shirt.

He pulled away from the kiss for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering there. You knew what he was asking without him needing to say it. You nodded, giving him your permission with a soft smile.

Tyler’s lips twitched up in a small, relieved grin as his fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, tugging it up gently. You lifted your arms to help him, your heartbeat racing as the fabric slid off and hit the floor. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat coming from Tyler’s body as he leaned back down, his hands now roaming over your bare skin, igniting every nerve he touched.

Your hands moved up to his chest, and with trembling fingers, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt. As you worked your way down, Tyler’s mouth found the delicate skin of your neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your throat. His lips were warm and gentle, but when he bit down lightly, your breath hitched, a small, involuntary sound escaping your lips.

That sound—small but full of need—seemed to drive Tyler wild. His grip on you tightened slightly, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and playful bites. Each time his teeth grazed your skin, you couldn’t stop the soft moans that spilled from your mouth, your body arching slightly into him. 

His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, barely audible but enough to make him pause for just a second, his breath hot against your skin as he groaned softly.

“You keep making sounds like that, and I’m not gonna be able to control myself,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough with need. 

His hands slid down your sides again, fingertips skimming the waistband of your jeans, but he paused, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he met your eyes again, waiting for your nod before his fingers deftly began undoing the button and zipper, tugging the denim down over your hips.

You took a deep breath, your fingers still fumbling with the last few buttons of his shirt, finally getting it open enough to slide it off his shoulders. The moment his shirt hit the floor, your hands were on him, running over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your palms. Tyler groaned again, his hands continuing their exploration, mapping every inch of your body as if it were the first time.

His mouth was on your neck again, trailing lower now, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone and further down. Every touch, every kiss, sent a wave of electricity through you, building a tension in your core that made it hard to think straight. The intimacy between you felt more intense now, the playful teasing giving way to something deeper, something that made your heart race and your breath come faster.

Tyler pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your hips again. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low, concern flickering in his eyes despite the heat between you.

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat for a second before you managed to breathe out a soft, “Yeah... more than okay.”

His lips curved into that familiar grin, but there was something different in it now—something softer. He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. 

As his hands continued their journey over your skin, you could feel the shift between you, the playfulness melting away into something intimate, something more raw and real.

Tyler’s lips were on yours again, soft but hungry, as his hands roamed over your skin, pulling you closer, deepening the intensity between you. There was a new urgency in the way he touched you, the last of your clothes falling away, leaving nothing between you but heat and desire. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you noticed that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes, tempered by something softer, almost reverent, as he took in the sight of you.

“Your turn,” you whispered, your voice shaky but steady enough to tug at the waistband of his jeans.

Tyler grinned, the playfulness returning for just a moment as he sat back, undoing the button and zipper with quick, fluid motions. You watched as he kicked off his boots and jeans, your eyes following the movements of his hands as he finally tugged off his boxers, leaving him completely bare before you. You couldn’t help but admire the way he moved—every flex of muscle, every shift in his body.

You moved toward him, but Tyler caught you by the waist before you could get too far, flipping the two of you gently so that he was the one lying on the bed beneath you. His grin was still there, but it softened as his hands rested on your hips, pulling you down on top of him.

"Now that’s a view," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He traced slow, deliberate circles on your skin as you straddled him, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, your bare skin pressed against his.

For a moment, you just hovered there, the tension between you thick and electric. But then Tyler’s hand slid up your spine, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment. 

“Before we go any further...” he murmured, his voice low but serious. His eyes met yours, searching. “We need to talk.”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. The chemistry between you was undeniable, but that didn’t mean you were going to be reckless. 

"I’m clean," you said softly, feeling a little breathless as you admitted it. "I’ve been tested."

"Me too," Tyler replied, his voice steady but filled with the same tension that ran through your body. “But...” He gave you a sheepish grin as he reached out, fumbling in the drawer of his nightstand for a moment. His fingers finally closed around what he was looking for, and he pulled out a small foil packet, holding it up between the two of you with a little chuckle. “Just in case.”

You smiled at his awkward fumbling, appreciating the way he was handling this—respectful, but still maintaining that easy, familiar chemistry you had with him. 

“Good thinking,” you teased, watching as he ripped the packet open, his movements still a little clumsy in his eagerness. He rolled the condom onto himself, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath was heavy, and you could feel the tension building again, stronger now that you’d both cleared the air. 

You reached for his Stetson, which had somehow ended up on the bed, and with a grin, you placed it on your head, the brim casting a shadow over your eyes. Tyler’s gaze darkened as he watched you, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out.

Slowly, you positioned yourself over him, your legs straddling his hips. His hands came to rest on your thighs, his fingers squeezing lightly as you sank down onto him, a gasp escaping your lips at the sensation. The Stetson tilted slightly on your head, but you didn’t care. All that mattered at that moment was the connection between you and Tyler—the heat, the closeness, the way his hands gripped your hips like you were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

Tyler let out a groan, his grip tightening as you adjusted to him, your body leaning forward slightly, pressing your chest against his as you both took a moment to breathe. His hand slid up your back again, this time tracing your spine with slow, deliberate strokes that sent shivers through your body. He tilted his head up, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was slow as if he had all the time in the world to savor this moment.

"God, you look so damn good," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough, filled with that raw desire you’d only ever seen glimpses of before.

You smiled, breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Wearing your hat and nothing else?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mmhm.” Tyler’s hands slid back down to your hips, guiding you as you began to move slowly against him. “You have no idea what you do to me...”

Tyler’s breath hitched as you settled against him, your bodies moving in sync, slow and deliberate, as if the two of you were savoring every second. His hands never left your skin, sliding from your hips to your waist, then down your thighs, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you. Each movement sent a shiver up your spine, your body reacting to the way his fingers traced small circles, grounding you in the moment.

The slow rhythm between you grew more intense with every passing second, but Tyler kept his focus on you, his eyes locked on yours, the smirk on his face softened by the emotion behind it. He shifted slightly beneath you, a groan slipping from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hips, guiding you in your movements but still giving you control.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as the sensation built, but you didn’t rush. There was something almost sweet about the way you moved together, like you both understood that this wasn’t just about the physical connection. It was something deeper, something that had been simmering for years between flirty glances, teasing remarks, and late-night conversations.

Tyler leaned up, capturing your lips in another kiss—this one softer, more tender, as if he was trying to tell you something without words. His fingers threaded through your hair, gently tugging, tilting your head back just enough to expose your neck. He pressed his lips to your throat, kissing his way up the sensitive skin there, and you couldn’t help the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to every little touch.

You felt his grip on your hips tighten again, pulling you closer, your bodies moving together with more urgency now. The feeling between you was electric, your heart pounding in your chest as his kisses grew more desperate, more hungry. But even in the midst of it, Tyler’s touch remained careful, measured, as if he was constantly checking to make sure you were okay.

You didn’t mean for it to happen but your orgasm hit you faster than you expected. You felt your walls squeezing around him as your thighs started to shake. You let out several moans into Tylers mouth as he bucked his hips up to work you through it.

When you finally broke away from his mouth, breathless, Tyler leaned his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your lower back, holding you close. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you—just the sound of your breathing and the steady beat of your hearts.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with concern as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He exhaled, a relieved grin spreading across his face. “Good.” His hands slipped down to your waist again, his grip firm but gentle. “Because I’m not sure I can handle you looking like that in my hat and not lose my damn mind.”

You chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss him again, feeling the way his body responded to the smallest touch. The teasing from earlier was still there, but it was mingled with something else now—a deep sense of care and affection that had always been beneath the surface.

As the tension built between you again, Tyler’s movements became more urgent, more deliberate, and his grip on you tightened in response. His groans were low and quiet, but the sound of them sent a surge of heat through your body, making you move faster, more eagerly, craving every reaction you could pull from him.

Tyler’s hands roamed your back, sliding up your spine and then down again, before settling on your hips once more, guiding you, helping you keep the rhythm even when it became harder to focus as your second orgasm crept closer. His mouth found your neck again, biting down gently in a way that made you gasp, your body arching into him as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Every touch, every kiss felt electric, like the two of you had been waiting for this moment for years. And as the intensity reached its peak, you couldn’t help but feel the emotion behind it all—the unspoken bond you shared, the connection that had always been there, simmering just beneath the surface of your friendship.

Finally, as the tension broke and the two of you found your release together, Tyler pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you collapsed against him. His body was warm and solid beneath you, his heartbeat strong and steady as you both came down from the high of the moment. He held you there, his hands still tracing gentle patterns on your skin, like he was memorizing the feel of you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing as you lay in the quiet intimacy of the aftermath. Tyler shifted slightly, his hand sliding up to brush through your hair again, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice soft and filled with that familiar concern.

You nodded against him, your body still tingling from the intensity of what had just happened. “Yeah... more than okay,” you murmured, echoing your earlier words.

Tyler chuckled quietly, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you closer. “Good,” he said, his voice warm and filled with affection. “That’s all I ever want... to take care of you.” His fingers trailed along your back in slow, soothing strokes as he held you there, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a cocoon of safety and comfort.

The warmth of Tyler’s body still enveloped you as you lay there, your head resting on his chest, his hand gently running through your hair. The room was quiet now, just the soft sounds of your breathing mixing with the faint creak of the old house settling around you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. You could feel Tyler’s steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, and it grounded you, but there was something else—a nagging thought that you couldn’t quite shake.

You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him. “Tyler...” you began, your voice soft, but tinged with uncertainty.

He looked down at you, his brows furrowing just a little, concern immediately flashing in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “What... what does this mean for us?” you asked, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you. “I mean, is this... was this just a one-time thing?”

Tyler’s expression softened instantly, and he reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. 

“A one-time thing?” he repeated, his voice almost incredulous. “Are you kidding?”

You averted your gaze, feeling a little silly for even asking, but Tyler didn’t let you look away. He gently guided your chin back toward him, making sure your eyes met his.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers,” he said, his voice low but steady, like it was the most natural thing in the world to admit. “I just... I didn’t think I had a shot in hell with someone like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in slowly. “Someone like me?” you echoed, a small laugh escaping your lips despite the serious turn of the conversation. “Tyler, you make it sound like I’m some kind of angel.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb still brushing along your cheek. “Well, that’s what you are to me,” he said with a grin. “An angel. I mean, come on... a guy like me? A cowboy who’s been out chasing storms and kicking up dust for most of his life?” His eyes sparkled with humor, but there was something deeper behind them—something genuine. “I didn’t think I deserved a shot with someone as good as you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at his words. “Cowboys and angels...” you teased, the playfulness returning to your voice. “Seems like a pretty good combination to me.”

Tyler laughed, the sound warm and rich, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go. “Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Turns out, they go real well together.”

For a moment, you both lay there in the quiet, the weight of his confession settling over you. It felt like everything had shifted between you, but in the best possible way. The years of friendship, the playful flirting, the unspoken connection—it had all led to this, to a moment that felt as natural as it was surprising.

You smiled up at him, the worry that had been gnawing at you now completely gone. “So... we’re doing this?” you asked softly, your hand resting over his heart.

Tyler grinned, his eyes full of warmth as he leaned in, kissing you tenderly. “Yeah,” he whispered against your lips. “We’re doing this.”

And with that, the uncertainty melted away, replaced by the deep, undeniable certainty that this was where you were meant to be—wrapped up in the arms of the man who had loved you all along, even when you hadn’t realized it. The cowboy and his angel, right where they belonged.

[punkitt-is-here]

Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!

Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube

Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.

Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.

Did you know you look like weird al?

YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.

Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?

ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.

Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?

Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.

Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?

I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)

What do you use for your art?

I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!

What are you using to make your games?

I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!

Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?

It's fun!

Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?

Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard

Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!

Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!

Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D

Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?

Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]

Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?

Yep! That's me.

Where are you in MLP right now?

Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.

Have you watched Equestria Girls?

Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.

What's your opinion on MLP so far?

I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.

What do you think of G5?

Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!

Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?

Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.

Favorite pony?

Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!

Favorite episode/season?

I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.

Do you like Pony.mov?

Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!

Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?

Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!

What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?

I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.

Are you transgender?

Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!

Are you a lesbian?

Nah, I'm bisexual!

Can I commission you?

Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.

Can I use your art as a Discord emote?

Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.

Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?

I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!

Favorite Color?

I'm a sucker for blue!

Favorite coffee?

Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.

Favorite tea?

I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.

Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?

Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.

What's your favorite game series?

Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.

Favorite game from those?

Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.

Any other favs?

Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!

Favorite Movie?

Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.

Oh, are you going to college?

Yep! I'm a film/theater major.

Do you have a YouTube channel?

Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.

What is that little orange creature I see?

That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.

Do you have a ponysona?

Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.

When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?

No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.

How do you work on so many things at once?

I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.

Did you know you look like Weird Al?

Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out

WHY do you work on so many things at once?

Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)

Do you need any help with your projects?

Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.

If you could be a horse, would you?

You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.

Are you some sort of...furry?

yeag

Why do you reblog so much?

Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.

Fav music artists?

It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.

Why are you like this?

theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo

SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS

Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)

What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.

Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.

How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!

[breannasfluff]

Fanfiction Comments: Why Bother?

Genuine question: If ya’ll like a story, why not comment?

This question, born out of previous discussions and Discord chats, is one writers have been dealing with for a long time. Feedback/reblogs on art tends to be more common than on fics. Yet writers continue to beg for comments on stories. So what's stopping people?

Don't know what to say/an emoji/script feels too impersonal

Forgot to comment

Read everything and how do you pick out one part?

Rather give feedback personally

Feels like an expectation/I owe them

Send me a string of emojis? I love it. Send a single heart? I love it. Keyboard smash? I love it. Copy/paste a "thank you for writing"? I still love it. "I don't know what to comment or how to put my feelings into words." Then put that! That's a compliment! Can't think of anything to say, then "I don't know what to write but asgfdhgf I liked it." is fine!

Seriously, I don't care WHAT you put, because it shows me you cared enough to take a few second to show that love. I recognize and look for my regular commenters, even the ones who leave just a heart or "extra kudos".

Forgot to comment? Leave the fic open on your phone or get in the habit of dropping SOMETHING right as you finish. If you had time to make it through the last 100 words, you can probably tap an emoji. It's likely more of a habit to build up than anything.

Read it in one go and it's all a blur? "I read this all in one go and it's a blur, but I loved it!" We don't need specifics; just tell us you loved it on the chapter you stopped on. That in itself is a compliment because Hey! You loved it so much you had to keep reading!

Personal feedback? Well, I'll never say no to friends gushing about stories to me! And it might not be the same for everyone, but if you stop commenting on AO3 and only tell me personally...my assumption is you don't like it enough to say it publicly. I've spent many a time wondering why people stopped giving that support and what I should do better. If it's a friend, try asking them which they prefer! We can go back and reread (and do!) AO3 comments. Much harder on discord/dms/etc.

Owing authors? Look, we put a lot of time and work into writing and providing content for free. Hours of idea planning, actual writing, editing, catering to requests, etc. My partner once said I have a second job, writing, but I don't get paid. If you read and enjoyed something that someone put a lot of work into, it's nice to take a few seconds and tell them that.

You don't owe authors comments. They also don't owe you free writing. Sometimes, you forget there is an author at all when you're reading. But there is. A real person put out a story hoping you'd love it, or connect to it. You'd see yourself in the writing and feel less alone, or cheered up when you have a bad day.

Writing is art, and all we want to do is connect with you. Comments help bridge that gap.

[kwanisms]

Of Hellfire & Saints 01 — k.hongjoong, k.yeosang

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 27.2k (in this part. 50.2k total) summary: After the death of the love of her life, Y/N runs away from the village only to be caught in a heavy storm but she manages to find refuge in Hongjoong's hut in the forest. While waiting out the storm, someone knocks on the door, prompting her to answer the door. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals, pregnancy; attempted SA, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is DARK), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglists moved to reblogs join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  Send a DM or ask to be removed from my taglist. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.  AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: the word count on this got away from me and so to make it all fit because i really don't want to edit it down, I've split it into two posts. I had really hoped to keep the word count down after what happened with part one but I really could not stop writing. as I said in the author's notes of the first part, read with care and caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason, a lot of people die. It’s not fun. It’s gruesome. Also keep in mind that every action has a reason. Now that’s out of the way, please enjoy this sequel and keep an eye out for the next part which will be Seonghwa’s backstory. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. 

smut warnings: there are multiple scenes in this so I will list the warnings for each one here but all of them involved unprotected sex. You do not do this. Use protection, this is fantasy. SCENE 1: table sex, dirty talk, spitting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rough (at times) sex, lowkey love-making, dom!Hongjoong, orgasm denial (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), mild choking (f receiving), praise (f receiving), cum inside, and that’s it on this one! SCENE 2: dry humping, choking (f receiving), table sex, fingering (f receiving), spitting, praise (f receiving), mild degradation (f receiving), cum inside, and that should be all but as always, let me know if i missed something SCENE 3: virgin!Yeosang, mild dirty talk, praise (m receiving), oral (m receiving), grinding, low-key love making (it’s complicated), mild breeding kink, cum inside, slight hair pulling (m receiving) and that should be all of them!

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Outside the atmosphere was eerie, wind whipping through the trees as lightning flashed overhead, deep rumbles of thunder which shook the ground following the lightning. You didn’t stop to look back as you took off, hearing the door to your house open and your father scream after you.

You didn’t stop once, running for the forest. As you reached the large tree that marked the spot between the clearing of your village and the edge of the forest, remnants of a rope hung from a branch, swaying in the wind.

You could feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces as you stared at the rope. All your hopes, dreams, and plans had been hung with that rope and died just like your lover. You didn’t hesitate any longer, dashing into the trees as another yell of your name came, drowned out as the thunder grew louder.

As you ran through the woods, you could hear the sound of raindrops pelting the trees, hitting the ground and few even hitting the top of your head or your shoulders as you continued to run. At first, you weren’t sure where to go but the answer came to you as Hongjoong’s cabin came into view in the darkness.

The lack of light in the window was a solidification that Hongjoong was gone. You continued on, running over, pushing open the gate and letting it swing shut as you reached the door and pushed it open. You shut the door as the skies truly opened up, rain pouring through the trees as lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the wind whipped the trees and vegetation.

Once in the safety of the cabin, you moved to start a fire, first lighting a candle that sat on the table. You then moved to the hearth and managed to start a fire and get it going. You knelt on the floor, looking around the now illuminated cabin as the storm raged outside. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually they would come for you. You would have to finish packing Hongjoong’s things and leave in the cover of night.

A loud clap of thunder made you jump and your eyes landed on the shelf in front of the door to the hidden crawlspace. Your promise to Hongjoong came to the forefront of your mind. “Tomorrow,” you whispered. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

As you turned back to the fire, three loud knocks rang out from the door and you spun around, staring at the wood. You hadn’t latched the door when you came in and you were regretting that now. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the forest briefly.

Your breathing came out in shallow, ragged breaths as you slowly got up. Another three knocks rang out as thunder cracked the skies overhead. Instead of moving to the door, you moved to the window, peering carefully out the window as another flash of lightning illuminated the garden. You couldn’t see anyone standing beyond the door.

As you pulled back, you started to wonder if maybe you were hearing things. You walked over to the door and hesitantly placed your hand on the wood, taking a few deep breaths. A flash of thunder, followed by another clap of thunder rang out and you sighed, letting out a shaky laugh until three more pounds on the door rattled it in place.

You let out an involuntary scream, jumping back and pulling your hand away. You stared at the wood and in a momentary surge of confidence, you grabbed the knob and threw the door open. You peered outside and saw nothing as the storm raged on. The goats were huddled in their shed and the chickens had returned to their coop.

You glanced around once more before backing into the cabin and shutting the door.

As you made your way back to the fire, another clap of thunder preceded three more loud knocks. Now you were getting annoyed. You crossed the cabin, wrenching the door open only to freeze at the sight of a dark figure standing outside the door.

Your words failed you as you watched the figure sway slowly before they turned. The light coming from the cabin was too dim to see that far out the door but when lightning flashed overhead, you couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped you.

Standing less than five feet from you was Hongjoong. He was covered in what seemed to be blood and caked in mud, soaked from head to toe. He had a far off expression, almost as if he were in some kind of trance. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you stared at him.

After a moment, you pulled your hand away, breathing shakily as your hands trembled.

“H-Hongjoong?” you whispered. This seemed to catch his attention. “Y/N?” he asked, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?” You stared at him, shocked that he was even standing in front of you.

“I should be asking you that,” you said as he closed the distance, pulling you into a hug against his soaked form. “How did I get here?” he asked softly, his voice breaking. You wrapped your arms around him, noticing his shaking body.

“Come on,” you said softly, pulling back and guiding him inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get your dried off.” You led him over to the hearth, making him sit down before moving to fetch some dry, clean clothes.

As you moved around, Hongjoong sat still save for his shaking. ‘He must be so cold,’ you thought as you returned to his side. “Why am I covered in dirt?” he asked, looking at his hands which looked to be caked in dirt and mud.

You reached up to start helping him undress. “Let’s get these wet clothes off you,” you murmured. “I’ll get some water to clean you off,” you added, standing up as Hongjoong continued to pull at his clothes. You grabbed the basin from the corner and turned to find Hongjoong standing, his shirt removed.

You let out a gasp and he turned to face you. Your eyes scanned his body, taking in the black vine like pattern that covered a good portion of his torso and arms. He looked down and muttered a curse as you walked over, setting the basin on the table and took his hands, inspecting them. 

You dipped a cloth in the water and tried scrubbing his hands but the dirt didn’t budge. It was then you inspected his hands and the markings a little closer. It looked like it had been burned into his skin. “It’s not dirt,” you whispered. “The skin has been… blackened.”

Hongjoong looked up, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “Blackened?” he asked, looking back down. “Burned?” You guided him to sit down, continuing to inspect his skin, wiping away any dirt that you did find. After a couple minutes, you looked up at him, kneeling before him. 

“What do you remember?”

Hongjoong looked down at you. “I…” he trailed off. “I don’t remember anything,” he continued, his voice breaking as he looked down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s happened to me!”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, it’s all right,” you said soothingly. “I’m here. Calm down.” He nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths. “Now, tell me what you do remember.” Hongjoong took one more deep breath before speaking.

“I remember a room without windows. It was small. There was a bed, a bedside table, and a wardrobe. I remember seeing Yeosang and… and you,” he explained. You nodded, taking his hands. “That was the room in the church they had you in,” you replied.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed in confusion. “They had me? What do you mean?”

You sighed and stood up, pulling a chair over and sat down. “Hongjoong, do you remember the investigation?” you asked. He stared at you unmoving. “Investigation?” he whispered, looking away for a moment before his eyes moved back.

“They were holding me for questioning,” he said suddenly. You nodded. “Yes, exactly. Jonas and Yeosang had you staying in one of the rooms in the church while they questioned you. The villagers blamed you for the problems in the village. Do you recall that?”

Hongjoong nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “It’s all coming back now. I remember their questions and telling them the truth, that it wasn’t me!” he added. You nodded, taking his hand. “Exactly. The villagers didn’t believe you though, despite Yeosang’s insistence you were innocent. They decided you were guilty anyway and they—”

“They dragged me out of the church,” Hongjoong whispered, his eyes on your hands. “They dragged me out of the church and took me to the edge of the forest.” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “They’d hung a rope from the tree,” Hongjoong whispered.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Did they… kill me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Am I dead?” The tears finally broke past your shield and you nodded, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“Then… what am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. He reached out to touch the table. “I can feel everything. The table, the floor, your hand,” he explained. His gaze looked up once more. “Do you remember anything else?” you asked.

“I remember darkness. The creak of the rope and then silence. It was so silent. And dark. It was so fucking dark, Y/N. I tried to scream but I couldn’t even hear myself. And then there was this intense, blinding light,” he choked out between sobs.

“And then I fell,” he gasped. “I fell for what felt like an eternity and it was still so dark. The light just disappeared. And then it just… stopped.” Your heart ached as he explained his experience. “That must have been after I died,” he murmured. 

“And then I heard a voice,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Your voice.”

You were caught off guard as you stared at him. “M-my voice?” He nodded.

And then it was gone. Silence again until I felt this pain. This intense, crippling pain. It was like I was being burned, all over my body,” he said and froze. Both your eyes trailed down to the scorch-like vines that littered his arms and torso.

Delicately, you traced one of the lines and looked up at Hongjoong. “Does it hurt?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “No,” he answered. “If anything… I can’t feel it. When you touch the skin, I don’t feel anything.”

You moved your hand, pressing your fingers against his non charred flesh. “What about that?” you asked. “Do you feel that?” Hongjoong nodded, looking down at your fingers. “Yes,” he said softly. Neither one of you said anything for what felt like a long time before he finally cleared his throat.

“I also remember laughter,” he continued in a trembling voice. “Not joyous laughter,” he added. “More maniacal. More… delirious.” You stared up at him as you listened, letting his words process. “And the pain…” his voice trailed off as he choked back a sob.

You pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” you said softly. It’s going to be alright,” you whispered. Your dress muffled the sound of his sobs as his body shook. You did your best to calm him, keeping a firm hold on him. You wanted to comfort him the way he always comforted you.

It took a few minutes for Hongjoong’s sobs to finally subside and when they did, you continued to rub his back for comfort. He pulled back, taking a deep breath. “And then,” he started. “It all just stopped.”

You took his face in your hands, wiping his tears away. “I woke up in the dark.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “You… woke up?” you asked, repeating his words. He nodded. “I felt around and all I could feel was wood. I knocked on it and it was hard but there wasn’t an echo.”

“The coffin,” you whispered. ‘At least they had the decency to put his body in a coffin,’ you thought before shaking your head slightly. “What happened after that?” you asked, caressing his cheek. “I summoned a ball of light and could see that I was in a coffin,” he explained. “And then, I don’t know what happened to me but it’s like I suddenly grew stronger.”

“I was able to break through the wood and claw my way through the dirt, pulling myself up out of the mud. And then I just started… walking,” he finished. You watched as he sat back and reached out, placing a hand on his. “I think when I was walking, I blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was standing in the rain and heard your voice.”

You sat unmoving, listening to his story with rapt attention. “And now… I don’t know what to think. Am I dead? Am I alive?” he whispered. You got up, grabbed the rag from the table, and dipped it into the basin. “Let’s worry about the formalities later,” you said as you wrung out the excess water and turned to Hongjoong. “First, let’s get you clean.”

Hongjoong nodded, sitting up as you moved to stand in front of him and took his chin gently in your hand as you carefully started to wipe the dirt, mud, and blood from his face. As your hand moved down, wiping the skin of his neck, your eyes fell on the bruising.

‘From the rope.’

Hongjoong noticed your hesitation and took your hand, pulling it to his face and pressing the back of your hand to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I missed your touch,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. You could stop the small smile from forming on your face as you turned your hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look up at you.

“No more than I missed yours,” you countered with a chuckle. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, grabbing the material of your dress and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your stomach. “I missed this,” he said, his voice muffled as you combed your fingers through his hair. “I missed being here with you. Being alone together.”

“I missed it too,” you replied, brushing his hair back as he looked up at you. “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you said softly to which Hongjoong nodded. “I promise, Starlight,” he whispered. Your smile grew and you casually wiped a fleck of mud off his cheek.

“You’ll have to take a bath tomorrow after the storm passes,” you said softly. “At the stream. It should be flooded now with all this rain,” you added, waving your hand as you turned back to the basin. Hongjoong stood, moving to stand behind you.

“Then why don’t we both take one tomorrow,” he suggested, resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled as his hands slid up your hips to your waist, holding you in place. “I’m not even dirty,” you countered as you wrung out the rag.

You felt Hongjoong press into you from behind, his hard cock pressing against your backside. “That can be rectified,” he whispered in your ear, one hand sliding to your stomach before moving down, pulling up the hem of your skirt. “Hongjoong,” you started, words failing you as his hand dipped under your dress, sliding between your thighs and finding your clit with ease.

A moan escaped past your lips at the feeling and you leaned against the table, keeping your balance by pressing your hands against the wood. “You smell so good,” you heard Hongjoong whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Makes me want a taste,” he added, tongue darting out to lick up the side of your neck, making you gasp. His hands moved to your hips, turning you around to face him before smashing his lips against yours, parting your lips with his and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, muffling a groan.

Your back pressed against the edge of the table and Hongjoong pulled back to push the basin aside, knocking it and the water to the floor before he lifted you onto the table, pulling your dress up and ducking his head under the skirt.

You let out a moan, head falling back against the wood as his tongue met your clit, tracing around it and dancing over it. Your thighs rested on his shoulders as he licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, unrestrained.

You felt his nails dig into the plush flesh of your thighs as he continued to lick and suck. You reached down, fingers knotting into his hair as he shook his head and before you could fall over the edge, he pulled back, inspecting his work.

You tried to protest but felt two fingers enter you slowly, a slight sting to the stretch that was quickly replaced with a dull ache. He moved, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly speeding up as his tongue returned to your clit, flicking against it rapidly.

Your orgasm came hurtling towards you, crashing over you quickly and making your legs shake as you chanted his name in quick succession. When the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he stood. He leaned over you, pulling you into a messy, passionate kiss as he started to undo your dress and peel it from your body.

Your own hands moved to his pants, undoing the ties and letting them fall as he pulled the last of your clothes off. He left a trail of light kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at your collar before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Tongue swirling around it as he kneaded the other with his hand. You ran your fingers through his hair as he lifted his head, his heated gaze sending a fresh wave of arousal throughout your body.

As if he could smell it, Hongjoong pulled back, looking down at your wet sex. He spread your folds with his thumbs and groaned at the sight. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured. “I missed this cunt so much,” he added. You let out a whine, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for him to fill you up with his cock.

“Is my Starlight impatient?” he cooed, looking up at you, giving you a smirk. You nodded, letting out another whine in an attempt to entice him. Hongjoong looked back down and you watched as he let a drop of saliva fall onto your sex. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed against your clit, gathering as much of your slick and his spit and coating the head of his cock.

He guided the head to your aching hole and looked up, meeting your gaze as he pushed into you, lips parting in a silent moan as his eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm walls enveloping him.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he slid in, unrestrained, until his hips were flush with your ass. He repositioned your thighs, pushing them further apart and against your sides, allowing him to slip in just a little further. You let out a groan, feeling completely full of nothing but his cock.

“God I missed this,” he gasped, looking down where your bodies connected. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock reappear before slowly pushing back into you, letting out a moan. He repeated this, setting a very slow pace. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, just enough to keep you both on the edge.

You tried to meet his movements but he held you firmly in place. “I’m in control here, Starlight,” he said, his voice low. You looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, Hongjoong,” you whispered. “Please fuck me.” Hongjoong let out a groan, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before he pulled you up into a sitting position. “Hold onto me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you off the table, carrying you over to the bed where you both fell, his cock never leaving you. Once you were on your back on the mattress, he resumed his movements, thrusting hard but slow into you, making you gasp with each thrust.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he murmured as he continued to rock into you. “I did that last time,” he added. “This time, I’m going to do what I should have done for your first time and make love to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued his rough thrusts but kept the pace slow, taking his time drawing it out for as long as he could. It was enough to keep your orgasm building but it was a slow build. You were growing impatient but didn’t say anything, not when it felt so good.

Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts before he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him and taking your hands. “Ride me,” he whispered. You hesitated, looking down at him. Of all the times you and Hongjoong had been sexually intimate, you’d never been on top, he’d always been in control and on top of you, regardless if you were on your back or your stomach.

“I’ve never…” you trailed off as he placed your hands on his chest, taking your hips in his and slowly lifted you. “Now back down,” he said softly, guiding you to sink back down, his cock sliding into you once more. “That’s right,” he whispered, helping you lift your hips.

“Now you control the speed,” he added. “Lean forward a little,” he added, moving one hand to the middle of your back and pressing forward. You followed his guidance, leaning forward slightly and moving your hands to the mattress, placing them on either side of his head as you raised and lowered your hips.

Each time you came back down on him, his cock fit snugly inside you, reaching deep. “You can go faster than that,” Hongjoong urged, reaching up to pull you against his chest before taking your hips and guiding your movements.

He thrust up to meet your movements, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with the wet sound of his cock plunging into your cunt repeatedly. “Oh f-” you gasped, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m gonna—” your words were cut off by Hongjoong lifting your hips, ripping your orgasm away from you.

“Hongjoong!” you whined as he sat up, pushing you onto the bed beside him and bending you over. He entered you from behind, setting the same pace as before, pounding into you from behind. “Oh fuck,” you cried out, burying your face into the sheets. You felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hip lessen before a sharp smack rang out, your ass stinging.

He ran his hand over the spot soothingly. You clenched around him as he landed another blow to the other side and moaned loudly into the mattress. Hongjoong leaned forward, pushing you down against the mattress as he pinned you down with his weight.

He rolled his hips, driving his cock deep into you. You let out a scream of pleasure into the pillows, prompting him to wrap a hand around the front of your neck and pull your head up. “Let me hear that again,” he panted into your ear, rolling his hips once more. You tried to hold back, letting out a strained groan instead.

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Hongjoong said, thrusting into you harshly. A scream ripped from the back of your throat, filling the cabin. “I’ve never made you scream before,” he said as he rolled his hips, enjoying the way you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his cock.

“Have I, Starlight?”

You shook your head, letting out another scream when he thrust into you again. “Does it feel good?” he asked, resuming the same pace from before, pounding into you, keeping a firm hold on you as his hand moved from your throat to cup your chin and jaw.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” he asked again, punctuating his question with another harsh thrust, making you choke on a scream. “When I fuck you like this?” Words failed you as he continued to slam into you, the only sound you could make were moans and the occasional cry of pleasure.

“Feel’s so good,” Hongjoong grunted into your ear. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing your head down onto the side as he picked up the pace, slamming into you at a brutal pace, the sound of his hips hitting your ass drowning out your small whimpers and whines. It was rough. Rougher than he’d been before but it felt so good.

He suddenly slowed his pace, rolling his hips slowly to prolong your pleasure. “You still with me, Starlight?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You nodded weakly. Hongjoong pulled back, pulling out of you and carefully rolled you onto your back. He slotted himself between your thighs, slipping back into you and slowly thrusting into you.

“Look at me,” he murmured and you wearily opened your eyes, his smile greeting you. “There’s my girl,” he said, cupping your cheek. His thrusts picked up in speed, angled and precise as he tried to get you back up to the edge.

“Come on darling,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek and down to your lips. “Open up for me,” he added softly. You parted your lips and moaned as he spit into your mouth. He resumed a quicker pace, thrusting into you, each movement making your already weak body bounce.

“You going to cum for me?” he whispered. “Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” he asked. You nodded weakly, whimpering as your orgasm started to build. Hongjoong’s hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbed circles around it quickly.

“That’s it,” he panted, his thrusts growing more erratic and less precise as he tried to get you to fall over the edge first. “That’s it, come on,” he groaned. Your back arched off the bed, your orgasm hitting you in waves, your body shuddering as your thighs shook, a mantra of moans mixed with his name leaving your lips. 

Hongjoong was quick to follow, burying his face in your neck as he let out a low moan, thrusting weakly into you as he came. His hot seed filled you and some of it even started to spill out as his cock continued to twitch until at last, he stopped thrusting.

You both laid there for several minutes, panting and covered in sweat until Hongjoong finally pulled out of and rolled off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him start to stir and you fell into a deep slumber.

You woke the next morning in a daze. The storm had mostly passed during the night but it was still raining, drops falling softly onto the roof and hitting the glass panes of the windows. You sat up, groggily, and let out a moan of discomfort as a dull ache settled between your thighs.

Looking around, you noticed the cabin was empty. You glanced to the table where the chairs looked like they hadn’t been moved. The floor was clear of water and the basin was sitting in its frame in the corner, the rag hanging on the hook beside it.

You checked the floor and saw your clothes had been moved, folded neatly and sitting on the trunk that sat under the front window of the cabin by the door. Hongjoong’s clothes, and his being for that matter, were nowhere to be seen.

You scratched your head, looking around, wondering if last night had been nothing more than a strange dream. You let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the bed, staring up at the underside of the roof as you wracked your brain, trying to remember anything other than the feeling of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you or the intense pleasure you were certain you felt last night.

‘What if it was merely a dream?’ you wondered, moving your hand to brush your fingertips over your lips. ‘What if Hongjoong wasn’t here and I just dreamt the entire thing?’ A sadness started welling up in your chest as you lay there, fighting the urge to cry as you remembered what transpired the night before you came to the cabin.

After the fight with your father, you couldn’t go back to the village. But you couldn’t stay here. You sat up and looked around once more, eyes falling on the shelf that covered the hidden panel. “The box,” you whispered. You hadn’t done it last night because of the storm but you could do it today. ‘Yes,’ you said to yourself.

“I’ll get dressed, make a quick breakfast and pack,” you whispered, glancing over to where your clothes sat. “Just the essentials so I can leave this place. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for me.”

Before you could move, another thought hit you and a fresh wave of sadness washed over you. 

‘Yeosang…’

You wondered if you would ever see the priest again but you were almost certain that you would not. Not once you left everything behind to start a new life somewhere far, far away from the village. You would miss aspects of your life near the forest but you couldn’t go back. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

As you started to move, the front door latch turned, opening the door and you looked up, eyes wide as Hongjoong entered the cabin, carrying what looked like a basket. He was dressed, not in the clothes you had dreamt him in last night, but in some clean ones. He lowered his hood and turned, a smile gracing his face as he saw you sitting up in bed.

“You’re awake!” he said, his voice cheerful as he walked over to the table, setting the basket down. He removed his cloak, draping it over the back of one of the chairs and turned, crossing the distance to where you sat on the bed, sheets pulled up to cover your chest as you watched him, wide-eyed.

“I went to fetch some eggs,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I thought some breakfast might be nice,” he added, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ve also got some bacon. We could have that too, if you’d like?” You nodded wordlessly as he spoke. Hongjoong’s smile widened as he leaned in again, kissing you once more.

“Would you like to help me?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours. You nodded again. “Y-yes,” you stuttered, your throat going dry. Hongjoong bumped the tip of his nose against yours and pulled back. “Then get up, Starlight. Put some clothes on.”

He got up and headed back over to the table, leaving you breathless on the bed as your thoughts swirled about in your mind. ‘He’s… alive. So I wasn’t dreaming?’ You sat motionless on the bed, staring at Hongjoong, watching as he bustled about, setting a spider skillet over the fire and letting it heat up.

You moved slowly and carefully, crawling across the bed to grab your clothes from the trunk. Hongjoong used a small amount of what looked to be lard to grease the skillet and looked up as you returned to your spot, sheets still covering your chest as you unfolded your clothes. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“You know you don’t have to hide your body from me,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “I’ve seen everything,” he reminded you as he returned his gaze to the fire and resumed his work. “Multiple times.” Your cheeks burned and you let the sheets drop to your lap, picking your chemise back up and unfolding it. You pulled it on over your head before getting out of the bed.

Hongjoong watched you from where he was perched by the fire, waiting for the skillet to heat up. His eyes followed your every movement as you dressed in silence, pulling your dress on and making sure all the buttons were done up properly before you turned around to face him.

“What can I help with?” you asked, snapping him out of a sort of trance. He looked back at the fire before looking up. “Could you grab the bacon for me?” he asked. “It should be in the barrel over there,” he added, nodding in the direction of a barrel that stood in the front corner of the cabin.

You crossed the distance and pried open the barrel, finding what he was looking for and returned the lid, sealing the barrel before moving over to the hearth. You knelt down, letting out a whine as you reached his level. Hongjoong raised his gaze, a look of concern on his face as you handed him the bacon. “Are you alright, Starlight?” he asked, taking the package in one hand and taking your chin in the other.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Just sore.” A look of realization passed over Hongjoong’s face before a smirk took its place. “I see,” he murmured. “Sorry about that, my love.” He pulled you in for a kiss before pulling away and turning to start placing strips of bacon in the skillet. “You just rest while I cook, alright?” he said, to which you shook your head.

“Really, I’m all right,” you insisted. “I can help you.” Hongjoong smiled as he added another slice of bacon which started to sizzle the moment it touched the hot pan. “If you insist,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You glanced down, noticing his hands and grabbed one, pulling it up to inspect. Hongjoong smiled, watching you turn his hand over and pull the cuff of his sleeve up to inspect his mysteriously clear skin. You were positive the night before his skin was charred, blackened and that it extended up his arms in swirling, vine-like patterns across his torso.

“I was surprised, too,” he admitted. “I woke up and it was gone. All the scorch marks. None of it remained.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “I thought I dreamt last night,” you whispered, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. Hongjoong caressed your cheek. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly. 

“When I woke up, you were gone and the basin had been picked up and your clothes were gone,” you continued. “I thought last night had been some cruel dream, reminding me of what happened last night,” you said, a sob escaping you. Hongjoong pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m right here, Starlight,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what happened to me,” he added. “But I’m here and that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest as you clung to him, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “I’m not letting you go this time,” you whispered. Hongjoong chuckled, the motion making your body bouncy slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I don’t intend to go anywhere without you ever again.”

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and some bread, you set about helping Hongjoong clear things up. Hongjoong had set the dishes aside to be washed and while you were busy washing them in a pan of hot water and soap, Hongjoong brought the last piece, the spider skillet over now that it was cool to handle.

He stood beside you as you washed, grabbing a rag. “Let me help,” he said, moving to grab the already washed dishes. “That way we can finish quickly and maybe go for a walk or something,” he said with a smile. “Maybe go see the wildflower field?”

You worked mostly in silence except for Hongjoong’s occasional humming until you set aside the last dish which he picked up to dry. “Shall we put these away?” you asked, drying your hands as you turned to look at him. He nodded wordlessly, still humming as the two of you grabbed the now clean dishes to put away.

Hongjoong put them away while you wiped down the table. As you were working, you felt him sneak up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he peppered kisses up the side of your neck, making you giggle.

“That tickles,” you giggled, trying to pull away but he held you firmly in place. You felt his nose brush against the spot just under your ear and heard him breath in deeply. “You smell really, really good,” he murmured. You tried to turn in his hold but he was too strong.

“Hongjoong,” you started but let out a moan the next second as you felt his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. “Makes me want another taste,” he added, pressing you against the table as he grinded against you.

You steadied yourself, pressing your hands against the table and let out another shaky moan as he rolled his hips again. “H-Hongjoong,” you gasped, his hands gripping your skirt tightly as he continued to grind into your backside. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he could draw out your arousal and how easily your body gave in and responded to him.

Hongjoong let out a growl, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat, holding you back against him tightly. “I really can’t wait,” he growled into your ear. “Please, can I take you right here?” You nodded with a whimper, your hands moving to help him pull your skirt up. Once he had it up, his free hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips gathering your wetness and spreading your lips to find your clit.

From this angle, it was a much different experience as his fingers sank into your heat, your walls welcoming the intrusion without hesitation. “Fuck, you’re so warm,” he groaned, pumping his fingers in and out of you with ease as your arousal started to drip down the inside of your thighs. You let out a moan, head dropping as your hands caught you before you fell to the table.

Hongjoong removed his fingers from your cunt, instead moving to untie his pants and push them down just enough to free his cock. He brought the same hand that had been inside you to your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered. You did as he said, spitting into his hand which he then used to coat the shaft of his cock before taking it and aligning the head with your slit, gathering your juices with the tip before pushing into you.

You let out an unrestrained moan as he slid into you, bottoming out rather quickly. He released your throat, gently pushing you down until your chest rested against the table. He hiked the rest of your skirt up, exposing your backside to him as he grabbed your hips and started a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully, watching his cock disappear into you.

Your hands moved, grabbing into the edge of the table as he increased speed, watching your cunt swallow him greedily. The steady pants you’d been releasing soon turned into wanton moans as he rocked into you, each thrust hard and deep.

“F-fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward as he continued his assault on your core, the sound of his skin hitting yours with each powerful thrust. “So fucking good,” he growled. “You take my cock like you were made for it, sweetheart.” You let out a whimper as you felt his nails dig into your skin. “So soft, pliant, and vulnerable,” you heard him whisper. “And entirely mine.”

You cried out as he thrust harder. “Does that feel good?” he cooed, a slight hint of condescension to his voice. You’d never heard him like that before. “You like it when I bend you over and fuck you like this?” he asked. His voice sounded… off. Almost like it wasn’t just him speaking but another voice was speaking with him.

“When I fuck you like a whore?”

You gasped, eyes snapping open and you tried to push yourself up but he stopped you. “What’s the matter, little lamb?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don’t like being called that? You didn’t seem to mind when I called you a bitch in heat,” he continued.

“Or should I call you my whore?” he whispered. “Is that what does it for you? Being possessed?”

Your body succumbed to him, walls fluttering around him as you came with a moan. Hongjoong continued, hips never faltering as he pounded into you. It only took a few more minutes before he finally came with a growl, hips stuttering as he released into you, cum filling your cunt and spilling past his cock to drip to the floor and seep down the inside of your thighs.

You’d never known him to cum that much before. It was almost inhuman. As you both came down from your respective highs, Hongjoong littered kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring praise and apologies for what he’d said in the heat of the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Starlight,” he whispered into your ear. “That was too far.” While you agreed with him, you shook your head. “It’s alright,” you whispered back, not wanting to further upset yourself or the moment. You could always talk to him later about it, knowing he would listen to you no matter what.

After cleaning up again, you assisted Hongjoong with his chores for the rest of the morning, having a quick lunch and then going back to work. 

The meadow would have to wait.

A week passed by and you were surprised that no one came looking for you but in the same vein, you were also glad no one had sought you out. Not because you feared being dragged back but because you feared what might happen to Hongjoong if someone were to learn he was alive again.

You’d tried in vain to persuade him to pack up the cabin and leave. He had said if no one came looking for you after a week, perhaps it was a sign the two of you could live in the forest, undisturbed, and build your life together there.

As your time with Hongjoong increased, so did his sexual appetite. Every morning, as soon as you were both awake, he had his mouth and hands on you, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm before finally sliding into you. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. Each time, he grew more and more rough and sometimes mean but afterwards, he always showered you in affection and attention, apologizing for taking things too far.

While it was certainly a change in personality, it only seemed to be present when you had sex. Otherwise, he was just as normal as ever. He was his usual sweet, doting, cheerful self, making you laugh and kissing your face until you giggled.

You had nothing to compare it to but for the few minutes he was rougher, it was merely a blip in the relationship you had outside of sex. Perhaps this was just one of the changes his brush with death had created.

How wrong you would come to be.

As you woke one morning, more than a week since Hongjoong’s return, you rolled over, reaching for Hongjoong, only to find his spot on the bed empty. Your eyes fluttered open and you half expected to see him standing by the table or crouched by the hearth. He wasn’t in either place. You gathered the sheets and sat up, glancing around the cabin and found no sign of him.

You got up, dressing quickly, and pulled on your boots. Once dressed, you opened the cabin door and peered out into the garden but found it empty except for the goats. You stepped out, letting the door shut behind you as you wandered out, looking around the forest.

You still saw no sign of Hongjoong and decided to check the stream which was where you usually collected water. The forest was alive, sunlight filtering through the trees to dance on the forest floor in patches of light.

Birds chirped and chittered happily as you made your way to the stream, following the path that led from Hongjoong’s place to the stream and beyond, running deeper into the forest. You’d only ever taken this path to the stream but never ventured further so you weren’t sure where it led or what was deeper into the darkest reaches of the forest.

As you neared the stream, noticing the trees thinning out a little, you caught sight of a figure kneeling at the water’s edge and smiled as you recognized Hongjoong’s mess of dark hair. You quickened your pace with a skip and rounded the bend in the path, smile widening as he came into view.

“There you are!” you called, noticing he didn’t even flinch when you spoke. As you drew closer, the sounds of the forest started to wane, birds in trees nearby took flight in squawks that sounded like cries of fear as they flew overhead and away from the area.

You noticed how the forest grew darker, like clouds blotting out the sun and the wind picked up, blowing the hem of your skirt around but still you continued forward. These were merely natural occurrences. The birds probably flew because you walked into the area, twigs breaking under your feet and startling them.

Clouds moved over the sun all the time and the wind often accompanied the movement of clouds. There was nothing sinister or otherworldly about it. You drew closer to Hongjoong, a new determination in your step as you walked over the dirt.

“Hongjoong?” you called, the forest around you now silent except for the wind.

“Stay back,” you heard him say. His voice sounded different again. Not unlike how he sounded the morning after his return but the second, deeper voice, was much… stronger this time. Something was definitely wrong.

“Joong?” you asked, moving even closer. “I said stay back!” he shouted, causing you to freeze momentarily. He really did not sound like his normal self but it only strengthened your resolve to see what was going on and if he was okay.

You ignored his warning as well as the warning in your own gut as you finally reached where he was crouched. “Hongjoong, are you feeling well?” you asked, leaning down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

The moment your hand touched his shoulder, you pulled back, almost as though you’d been burned. He pulled away, turning so you couldn’t see him. “I said stay back,” he repeated. You could barely hear his voice, the deeper voice was more dominant.

You let out a huff and tried again, this time, grabbing him by the shoulder and attempting to turn him to face you. This time, you didn’t feel as though you’d been burned but Hongjoong reacted in a way you weren’t expecting.

He lashed out, throwing his arm back and pushing you to the ground. “LEAVE ME,” he growled, his voice sounding much deeper. Much more… demonic. You gasped as he looked over his shoulder at you. His face had changed. His eyes were no longer the dark, warm brown but instead two different irises full of fire looked back at you, surrounded by black.

Two small horns had poke through the surface of his skin just where his hairline started, the skin around them looked irritated and red, almost like a wound. The black marks that had covered his skin when he first returned were back, hands blackened but now the marks extended up his neck to his face.

You scooted back a couple paces, staring at him in shock and horror. As you stared at one another in the silent forest, you finally took a deep breath and got to your feet, watching as Hongjoong mimicked you, getting to his feet slowly. You took a step forward. 

“Hongjoong?” you asked as he turned to face you fully. He tilted his head to the side with a sickening crack. “Hongjoong?” he repeated in that same devilish voice, almost as if he was taunting you. A shiver ran up your spine but you chose once again to ignore the alarm bell in your own mind. That wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was making sure Hongjoong was okay.

“What happened to you?” you asked, taking another step forward. Hongjoong didn’t move as you continued, stopping a few paces from him and started to circle him, checking over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured. When you had put him between you and the stream, he moved. It was much too quickly for you to see but he turned at once to face you, standing up straight. You jumped and let out a squeak of surprise.

“Are you all—”

You couldn’t finish your question as he quickly had crossed the distance between you and you felt your back hit a tree, forcing a sound of pain from you as he pinned you against it, his hand closing around your throat. This was a huge contrast from the way his hand would go around your throat during sex. He was actually squeezing, cutting off your air supply.

You fought against him, trying to pull his hand away. “Please,” you whispered breathlessly. “I can’t breathe. Hongjoong,” you choked out. When you said his name, it snapped him out of it and he immediately let go of your throat, taking a step back.

You crumbled to the base of the tree, coughing as you reached up to massage your neck. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes had shifted back to normal, the same warm brown but they looked panicked, scared even.

He looked down at his hands, looking at his change in form. The blackened skin, the nails that had sharpened into claws at the tips of his fingers. He looked back up at you. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so…” he trailed off, looking around the forest. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice soft and full of fear. His gaze returned to you as you stood up, noticing the irritated skin of your neck.

“Oh g— did I do that?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. You tried to dismiss his concern, insisting you were fine but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and stopping when he felt the small horns on his forehead.

“What is happening to me?” he whispered, fingers gripping his hair as he stumbled backwards, boots splashing in the stream waters. You stepped forward but he held a hand out. “No!” he shouted, his voice normal but echoing around the forest. “Don’t come any closer. You need to leave. I can’t…” he trailed off, eyes falling to your neck again.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice full of anguish. Before you could say anything, he turned and took off, much faster than you could see and suddenly, you were standing alone in the forest. You reached up to massage your neck again, wincing at the tenderness.

You had no idea which way Hongjoong had gone or even how far he’d gone so instead of attempting to follow him, you decided to return to the cabin, hoping at some point he’d come back. The walk back seemed to take ages and you were just returning as the sun set and you wondered if maybe you’d wandered aimlessly before finally reaching the cabin because how could you leave in the morning and return so late?

You pushed open the gate and stopped to feed the goats before heading inside, shutting the door behind you. You sat in one of the chairs at the table, staring at the wood in a sort of semi-conscious state before you shook yourself mentally.

You decided to make some tea and wait for Hongjoong to return. If he didn’t return that night, maybe he would come back the next morning. You poured the tea into a mug and let it steep for a while before finally taking a sip, letting out a sigh afterwards.

The sound of distant thunder made you look up, worried that Hongjoong was out in the forest on his own with the threat of a storm looming in the distance. “He’ll be okay,” you whispered to yourself. “He’ll be back and we’ll make up and be okay. It’s going to be fine.”

You weren’t sure how much time passed but you heard the front gate open and turned in your seat as the front door opened. Hongjoong appeared, his appearance had mostly gone back to normal, save for the horns and his hands.

He looked up as he entered, looking shocked to find you sitting at the table.

“Why did you come back?” he asked as he shut the door and moved over to the fire, kneeling to add more logs. You stared at the back of his head, looking incredulous. “Why did I come back?” you repeated his words. “Because I love you! Why wouldn’t I come back?”

Hongjoong winced slightly. “You should have left,” he whispered. You stared at him, appalled that he would even suggest you running away or abandoning him. “And go where?” you asked, attempting to conceal the hurt in your voice.

“Anywhere but here,” Hongjoong replied, his voice sounding flat and lifeless.

You froze, the room growing silent except for the crackling of the fire. After a few moments, you got up and walked over behind him, kneeling down and wrapping your arms around him. Hongjoong didn’t fight it, instead accepted the gesture and gently grabbed your arm, leaning his head into yours that rested on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the fire. “I don’t know either,” you replied. “But we’re going to face it and figure it out,” you continued, turning him to look at you. “Together,” you added. “Why?” Hongjoong asked, eyeing your neck, a fresh wave of sadness and disappointment crossing his face.

“After what I did, why would you stay?”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Because I love you, damn it,” you replied. “I’m not giving up on you. I never did before so why would I now?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered between yours before dipping down to your lips briefly. You leaned in, granting him his silent wish, pressing your lips to his. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back as he laid you down on the floor of the cabin, in front of the fire.

“I love you so much,” you muttered against his lips, pulling back to look at him, your thumb brushing over his lips. He leaned into your touch, eyes shut as he sighed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, his lips parting yours and tongue slipping past into your mouth. As the kiss grew in passion, his hands started to move, pulling your skirt up.

Under any other circumstance, you would give in easily because you loved it when he made love to you but right now was not the right time. “Hongjoong,” you said as he left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Stop.”

He didn’t seem to hear you so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hongjoong, stop it,” you repeated, moving to grab his hands only for him to snatch you by the wrists and pin them down above your head with one hand. He went back to pulling the hem of your skirt up as you fought against him but his strength was shocking and you’d never noticed how strong he had become.

Finally you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you. “I said stop!”

Your voice snapped him out of it and he immediately pulled away, scooting back as you pulled yourself away, watching as he stood up and turned away from you. “You need to leave,” you heard him say, his voice wavering.

You started to pull yourself up. “Hongjoong?” you called, taking a hesitant step forward, the exchange in the forest earlier coming to mind. “I can’t control it anymore,” he whispered. “What are you saying?” you whispered. “You need to run before I…” Hongjoong trailed off.

You froze as he turned his head slowly, his brown eyes replaced with the same demon-like eyes, fiery red irises shrouded in black. The scorch marks returned to the skin of his neck, extending up onto his face. His lips parted in a devilish grin, exposing his now sharpened teeth.

You backed away, bumping into the table with a dull thud as you shook your head in disbelief. Terror filled your chest as he stared back at you with a taunting gaze. “H-Hongjoong?” you stammered, heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was firing off, hair standing on end as he turned fully to face you.

He’d changed again and something told you that this time, he wouldn’t be reverting back. He took a step forward, still watching you with those unnerving eyes. You were trapped between him and the table, your only form of escape being the door on the other side of the table,

You glanced back at it, finding it unlatched and unlocked. You looked back at Hongjoong, gasping as he seemed to grow in stature with the absence of your gaze. He now towered over you. “Poor little Y/N,” he said, the voice coming out of him not his. There wasn’t even a trace of his voice left. It was whatever had taken control of him.

“All alone in the forest with the big, bad, wolf,” the voice coming from Hongjoong continued.

“You should run,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, as if this was funny to him.

“Run little Lamb,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “Run.”

He lunged for you and you grabbed the mug of hot tea, splashing it at him and hitting him square in the face. Hongjoong let out an inhuman screech, hands moving to cover his face as he backed away, giving you a chance to round the table and make for the door.

He let out a roar behind you as you opened the door, slamming it shut and rushing for the gate. The goats were bleating in fear as they ran around the garden, chickens clucking and squawking from the coop. You pushed the gate open and ran out onto the forest path.

Knowing it would take too long to follow the path, you started off it, picking up your skirt and jumping over fallen logs and branches as you ran away from the cabin in the direction of the village.

The sound of wood splintering rang out as Hongjoong undoubtedly broke through the door. Another roar rang out, sending chills up your spine as you picked up the pace, not pausing to look behind you. Heavy footfalls sounded behind you and you knew he had given chase.

You hurtled over fallen trees and branches, skipping over boulders as you ran for the edge of the forest, hoping for some reason he might not follow you into the village. It was a long shot but it might be worth it.

Yeosang had spent the last week taking up the task of patrolling the village at night, agreeing to do so after learning you had run away into the forest. He’d been too late to save Hongjoong, reaching the edge of the forest where the men had strung him from the tree branch. It was a sight he could not stomach and had violently gotten sick.

In the aftermath, he had hoped he might be able to save you but when he arrived at your parents’ home and learned of the fight and that you had nearly stabbed your father in what they called a fit of unchecked rage, Yeosang leapt at the chance to keep an eye out for you.

He knew that the mark in the floor from one of your mother’s knitting needles had been your intent. Regardless of the vile acts your father had carried out, he knew you were not capable of killing anyone. Your father was a twisted man but you… you were not. 

You were just hurt, feeling the pain of betrayal as was Yeosang. He felt as if he might as well have been strung up like Hongjoong and had his own life choked out of him for failing in the one task he’d promised to you. He was as much to blame as your father and the rest of the village was. He’d contributed to the breaking of your heart that night, too.

Despite being told numerous times to give up and not expect you to return, like a fool he was still outside, patrolling with a lantern for most of the night, hoping that you might show up so he could tell you how sorry he was. Wishing for one moment to apologize and tell you that you had every right to hate him as he already hated himself.

As he reached the forest during his pacing for what felt like the hundredth time, he heard a sound. Almost like a distant roar. He looked at the sky, watching and waiting for any sign of a storm but saw none. The sky was clear with very few clouds, stars glittering overhead.

He listened for a little longer before deciding it was just his imagination and started to turn away when a scream also rang out from the distance. He turned instantly, wide eyes scanning the trees. It sounded like a female scream.

As he turned back around and watched the forest, he heard the sound of twigs snapping and another scream rang out, this time much closer and clearer. Yeosang took a few steps forward, letting out a soft gasp when a figure emerged from the woods, stumbling over their own feet. As they moved into the light of the many torches that had been set up after you left he realized who it was.

“Y/N?” he called out, rushing forward to meet you. You were sobbing, your dress covered in dirt as you stumbled forward. Yeosang closed the distance, dropping his lantern and you collapsed, managing to catch you at the last second and you erupted into anguished sobs that bordered on wails.

He glanced up, eyes widening as he caught sight of something standing at the edge of the forest. Something tall and dark. It slowly retreated back into the forest until he couldn’t see it anymore.

A nearby door opened and one of the villagers appeared in their night dress. Yeosang looked up. “Go get Y/F/N. And Jonas!” he shouted. “Now!” Yeosang returned his attention to you as more people came out to see what the commotion was. Yeosang gently rocked you, shushing you as you continued to sob heavily.

“What happened?” a voice whispered. “I don’t know. I just came out and they were like this,” another said. “Where did she even come from?”

Yeosang tried to drown out the gossip and turned to one of the women who had come to offer their assistance. “Take her to her father’s house,” he ordered. “I’m going into the forest,” he explained. At this you pulled back, grabbing the front of his coat and shook your head violently. “No!” you shouted. “You can’t! D-don’t go in there! It’s n-not safe!”

Yeosang took your face in his hands and shushed you again, gently. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m just going to see—” you shook your head, cutting him off with incoherent babbles. Yeosang finally relented, seeing the true fear in your face. “Okay,” he relented as you started to hyperventilate. “I won’t go in. I promise,” he said quickly.

“Here,” he started, carefully getting up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” He guided you away from the crowd that had formed and to your parents’ house. The door opened as he approached and the look of anger on your mother’s face vanished instantly upon seeing the state you were in. “I can take her to the church if you would prefer,” Yeosang said softly as your father appeared behind your mother.

“No,” he said, a look of concern crossing his face as they both backed up. “Bring her in here,” he added. Yeosang guided you inside, keeping a firm but steady arm around your back. “What happened?” your father asked as your mother led Yeosang to the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang answered as they started to climb the steps. He followed your mother up to your room leading you in and carefully sitting you down on the bed. “Y/N,” he said calmly, taking your hands in his. “You’re safe,” he said as your mother and father looked on from the doorway. “You’re home and you’re safe.”

Your sobs had subsided into small hiccups as you stared blankly at him, not really seeing him. You had this far off look on your face. Yeosang stood, trying to pull away but your grip on him tightened and a new wave of hysteria washed over you. He quickly knelt in front of you again. “I’m going to step outside the room while your mother helps you change and puts you to bed,” he explained. You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Don’t abandon me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible enough for him to hear. He took your hands again. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m not going to leave. I just can’t be in here while your mother undresses you,” he explained, glancing over at your mother who crossed the room, taking a seat beside you and wrapping an arm around you.

“I will be downstairs,” Yeosang said. “I promise.” Your grip lessened as he stood up and pulled away. Your mother started doting on you as he reached the door and stepped out into the hall with your father, sighing as he shut the door. “What happened?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“I don’t have any answers. I was out patrolling when I heard a scream and the next thing I knew, she was sprinting out of the woods and collapsed into my arms as I reached her. She was sobbing, wailing like someone had been murdered right in front of her.”

Yeosang noticed the shift in your father’s body language but he continued on. “She could barely form a sentence. I figured I’d just bring her here and if you didn’t want her back, I’d take her to the church,” he explained. Your father nodded. “I’m not entirely thrilled to have her back after what she did but you were right to bring her here,” your father said softly.

“Her mother and I will keep an eye on her,” he continued as he led Yeosang down the stairs. “I would like to come visit her during the day, if that’s alright,” Yeosang said as they reached the door. Your father hesitated before nodding. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Thank you Pastor Kang.” Yeosang nodded and reached for the door but as he turned the knob, your father pushed the door shut.

“Since she’s back,” your father started in a hushed tone. “And with everything that’s happened, I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wouldn’t want to marry her now.”

Yeosang’s expression fell, anger bubbling in his stomach and threatening to rise up into his throat. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t think that’s really what is important right now. Presently, I would like to make sure she is safe and looked after. Getting her back to a state of normalcy is the most urgent,” he responded.

Your father, looking very embarrassed, nodded, muttering to himself. “We will discuss this matter another time,” Yeosang added. He gave your father a very curt nod and opened the door, stepping out into the night and heading for the church.

He needed to speak to Jonas and tell him everything. Right now.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since you’d run out of the forest and into Yeosang and despite everyone’s best efforts, you remained in a catatonic state. Your mother struggled to get you to eat or speak. You barely slept at night, instead tossing and turning and being terrorized by nightmares. The day time only offered the relief of it no longer being dark.

Yeosang visited you multiple times each day to check on you. When he was near, you felt safer but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hongjoong came back to the village. Yeosang had placed a few protective charms around your home, especially in your room by the window and over the door.

He was certain that whatever he saw coming out of the forest after you wasn’t human. The fear he saw in your face as well as the way he felt upon seeing the figure confirmed in his mind that something dark and inhuman had been chasing you.

During his visits, Yeosang hoped you might open up and tell him what happened but each day, you refused to talk, lying in a catatonic state. Your mother tried to feed you while he was there and a few times, to save your mother from fighting you, Yeosang took over.

He was patient, sitting by your bedside waiting for any sign that you might be more receptive to food. He found that broth seemed to be the only thing you could stomach, solid foods making you sick and coming back up no matter how they were prepared.

Broth was easy and low energy but even sometimes after drinking it, you would still get sick, throwing up into the pail your mother set by your bedside. Yeosang was always there to help, holding the pail for you or rubbing your back soothingly as you retched.

He could see you growing weaker and weaker by the day and at the end of your first week back, you could barely even walk on your own. Your mother was at her wits end, trying to take care of the house but also of you and it was taking a toll on her.

“She just keeps throwing everything up, I don’t know what to do!” your mother said, nearly in tears as Yeosang sat at the dining table while she made some broth. “She can’t keep just drinking broth. She needs sustenance,” she added. Yeosang grimaced as he watched your mother work. “Ideally, yes,” he answered as he watched your mother pour the brother into a bowl and got up. “But currently, she can’t even keep this down,” he explained, picking up a large cup and taking the bowl before pouring it into the cup.

“How do you expect her to keep down meat and potatoes when she can barely stomach liquids?” he asked, offering a kind smile. “We don’t know what she endured,” he continued. “But throwing up seems to be a trauma response to whatever horrors she faced. We have to be patient.”

After filling the cup with warm broth, Yeosang grabbed his book from the table and started up the steps, having grown rather familiar with your parents’ house by this point. He reached your door and softly knocked on it, calling your name. He turned the knob and peered in to find you lying on your back, pillows propping you up but your eyes were closed.

Or they had been when he opened the door. You must have been roused by the sound and your eyes slowly fluttered open. You looked even more exhausted and weary. “Did I wake you?” Yeosang asked softly. You shook your head.

Yeosang entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to the bed, setting your broth down and checking your pail. It had dried sick in it but not much. ‘Hard to throw anything up when there’s nothing in her stomach,’ he thought to himself. 

“I brought you something to eat,” he said, setting his book down and sitting on the edge of your bed. He leaned forward, resting his hand against your forehead before feeling your cheek. “You don’t have a fever, surprisingly,” he muttered, sitting back and looking down at you.

“You feel like eating?” he asked. You didn’t respond, instead staring at the ceiling. Yeosang reached out, gently caressing your cheek. “I wish you would eat, Y/N. I know it is difficult. That’s why I had your broth put in a cup so you can drink it easier than a bowl.”

He studied your face. “I thought I might read to you, if you’d like that,” he continued. “Maybe I could read to you and you can drink your broth,” he suggested. You still didn’t respond, merely laid there, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang got up and moved to the chair, grabbing his book and taking a seat before he opened the book.

“And don’t worry,” he added with a hint of a smile. “It’s not the bible. I’m trying to help you heal, not torture you.”

Yeosang spent the next couple hours reading to you from the book, checking on you every so often but there was no change. You hadn’t moved, the cup on your bedside remained untouched but he persevered. After reading for a couple hours, he said his goodbyes and left, heading down to the kitchen where your mother was. He left the broth on your bedside table, hoping that you might find the strength to drink it in his absence.

He left your house and went back to the church to report to Jonas who had asked for daily updates on your condition. He wanted to know the moment you were speaking again to get your side of the story as to what happened the day you returned to the village.

Afterwards, he went back to his own home and settled down for the night.

The next day, Yeosang stopped by your place in the morning to check on you. He greeted your mother as he walked in, having been told he could come and go as he pleased as long as he helped you. Yeosang asked if your mother had checked on you this morning and she shook her head. 

“I came right down the stairs to start my daily tasks,” she admitted. Yeosang noticed how exhausted she seemed. “Are you sleeping at night, Mrs. Y/L/N?” he asked, getting to his feet and walking over to check her temperature. “I’m alright,” she said. “No need to fuss over me.”

Yeosang let out a chuckle. “If you want to go and rest, I’ll take care of things here,” he offered. Your mother looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she said, shaking her head. “I have a husband and a sick child to care for. I can hardly afford to be idle.”

Yeosang watched as she resumed, bustling about. “Then let me take care of Y/N,” Yeosang replied. Your mother turned to look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “You aren’t asking,” Yeosang said. “I’m offering.”

After staring at him for a moment, your mother finally conceded. “Alright. Can you first go get the cup of broth? I don’t think she drank it and I’m gonna try something different today.” Yeosang smiled and nodded, heading for the stairs and climbing them slowly.

He opened the door and peered into your room. You were lying on your side, eyes closed and you looked like you were finally sleeping. Yeosang quietly entered the room, taking care to move slowly so as to not make much noise. He walked over to the bedside table, checking the pail to find nothing new had been added. He grabbed the cup and lifted it, finding it much lighter than when he set it down.

A smile crossed his face when he found it mainly empty. He glanced at your sleeping form before he started to turn but felt a hand close around his wrist and looked down to see you looking up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, kneeling down and gently stroking your head. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m just taking this back downstairs.” You blinked sleepily at him before your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a soft sigh.

Yeosang continued stroking your head before he stood up and made his way to the door, checking to make sure you were still asleep before he shut the door and headed down to the kitchen where your mother was checking something cooking in a pot over the hearth.

She turned to look at Yeosang as he entered. “She finished the broth and the pail is empty,” he announced as he walked over to show your mother the empty cup. A look of relief passed over your mother’s face. “Is she awake?” she asked.

Yeosang shook his head. “She was briefly while I was in there, but she’s gone back to sleep so I think it best if we let her rest for now and bring her something to eat later,” he explained, feeling better when your mother nodded in agreement.

Yeosang stayed downstairs, insisting he help your mother around the house in your absence. Initially she refused but Yeosang said he would only tend to your chores just to lessen the burden. He worked diligently and without complaint for a few hours while your food cooked.

As he finished sweeping, your mother called him over. She had made lunch and despite his insistence, she made him sit down and eat before she let him head upstairs with your food. Upon entering your room, Yeosang found you lying on your side, eyes closed but it was clear you’d gotten sick and managed to pull the pail closer.

Rushing over, he set the bowl of food on the bedside and looked into the pail to find whatever you had ingested was now resting in the bottom of the pail. Yeosang sighed softly and grabbed a small rag from his pocket, kneeling down to carefully wipe the rest of the sick from the corner of your mouth and chin.

You started to stir as he finished, your eyes opening weakly. “Here,” he said softly, helping you sit up, rearranging your pillows so you were propped up. He sat on the edge of your bed. “You aren’t keeping anything down,” he said softly, watching as you avoided his gaze. “Hey,” he whispered, taking your hand.

“I’m not upset,” he started, feeling relieved when you looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m worried, Y/N. You aren’t eating, you’re barely sleeping, and you won’t speak. I thought we had made progress when you finished the broth but maybe it was too much for your stomach. Maybe you need smaller portions,” he mumbled.

You said nothing but you didn’t need to. “I’ll be right back,” he said, grabbing the bowl, and headed for the door. He rushed back downstairs, setting the bowl on the table, taking in your mother’s concerned face. “Did she get sick again?” she asked, mumbling a curse when Yeosang nodded. “Do you have any more of that broth?” he asked.

She nodded and got up. “Give me just a small cup of it. I think the portions are too big. She needs to eat smaller and then we can work her up.” With the broth in hand, Yeosang headed back upstairs and entered your room, giving you a smile as he walked over and set the cup on the bedside. “Take your time with it. If it takes you all day to eat it, that’s okay. Just sip it for now,” he explained as he grabbed the chair and moved it closer.

“Would you like me to read to you?” he asked. This time, instead of staring at him or the ceiling, you nodded. It was such a subtle movement but Yeosang, who had grown accustomed to you and was aware of even the slightest change, noticed.

He pulled out his book and resumed where he’d left off, reading a few chapters to you.

As he finished the third one, he looked up to find you fast asleep. He checked the cup and saw you had finished about half the broth and smiled as he got up, heading for the door and shutting it softly behind him.

It was progress but he would have to check in the morning to make sure you didn’t get sick in the middle of the night or in the morning. Yeosang left the house, bidding your parents farewell before heading home. 

The next day, when Yeosang came to check on you, your mother excitedly told him you had finished the rest of your broth and had not gotten sick in the night nor in the morning. Relief passed over them at the prospect that you might have been able to keep down the broth.

After helping with the morning chores, Yeosang headed up to your bedroom with your broth and a new book in addition to the one he’d been reading to you. He spent a few hours reading to you as you sipped on your broth until you fell asleep.

The next couple days went by the same. Yeosang had just spent the last few hours reading to you and lost track of time. Your parents invited him to stay for dinner and afterwards, he was on his way out, night having fallen already. 

As he walked, he heard a twig snapped and looked around, taking note of a young woman in a cloak walking towards the woods. He turned, watching her with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Before her was a black ram which would walk a short distance before stopping and turning to look at her. Once she caught up, the ram would repeat the process.

Yeosang watched the scene unfold silently and when the woman disappeared into the shadows of the forest, he followed, stopping at the edge of the forest and peering around a tree to see the woman had only gone in so far that she wouldn’t be immediately spotted. She removed her cloak, revealing herself to be entirely nude underneath.

The ram turned and Yeosang watched with wide eyes as the animal shifted into a tall dark figure and held out a hand which the woman took. The figure guided her down onto the forest floor and Yeosang pulled back and turned away to avoid witnessing any more.

He hurried to the church instead of his home and opened it, climbing the stairs in the back hall to Jonas’ room where he knocked urgently. After a moment, the door opened and a very tired looking Jonas appeared. “Pastor Kang?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

Yeosang, who had all but run to the church, launched into an explanation of what he’d seen. Once he was done, Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like we may have a demon lurking in the woods,” he said softly. “And what are we going to do about it?” Yeosang asked when Jonas didn’t elaborate further.

The elder minister looked up at him. “Oh, I’ll prepare some new protective charms and we’ll put them up around the village. That should help ward off the evil,” he said, nodding again. “If you’ll excuse me,” Jonas said. “I was in the middle of my prayers. Good evening, Pastor Kang.”

Yeosang bowed his head as Jonas closed the door and headed back down the steps and out of the church. Once he was back on flat ground, he glanced towards the forest as a chilly wind swept through the village. If Jonas was going to up the protective measures on the village, Yeosang would have to up them on your home.

The moon that should have been overhead was hidden by the clouds that had rolled in just after the sun had set beyond the horizon, blocking out the stars as well. The chill in the air would normally have deterred anyone from leaving their home but Yeosang was determined to catch a glimpse of that dark figure he’d seen twice now.

The oil in his lamp was getting low as he continued to walk around the village. He’d made three passes already around the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on the edge of the forest. He knew he was being ridiculous but Yeosang was determined to figure out this mystery. He had his suspicions but he would not lay blame until he knew everything.

As he neared your parents’ home, he wondered how you had been fairing the last few days. He and Jonas had been busy placing protective ornaments around the village, over the front doors of each home. He’d made more to hang in your room and delivered them to your parents who promised to put them up for him.

As he turned away from the forest, something caught his eye, a shadow darker than the rest moving through the trees. Yeosang raised the lantern in his hand, hoping to extend the reach of the light but it didn’t seem to help. The shadow only disappeared. Yeosang followed, walking down to the edge of the forest and following it past the last house until he was at the corner of the clearing.

He scanned the tree line but saw nothing and decided to follow it behind the houses. As he reached the section of trees behind your home, he peered into the trees, squinting as if it would help him see through the darkness better.

There was a scraping behind him and he turned to face the backside of your house. As he scanned the building, his eyes focused on a dark shadow near the window at the top. He raised his lantern and let out a small gasp.

A dark figure was crawling up the wall, peering into your window. It extended a clawed hand towards the window and attempted to open it but Yeosang called up to the figure. “Who is that?” he asked. The figure froze, head whipping around.

Yeosang stumbled backwards as it glared at him with fiery red eyes. His foot hit a small stone and he nearly fell, regaining his balance and stood back up, looking around the house for any sign of the figure but it was nowhere to be seen.

Yeosang hurried around to the front of your house, still finding no sign of the figure and sighed. He would have to inform Jonas in the morning of what he had seen. He started heading back towards his home, checking the rest of the houses along the way.

The following morning, Yeosang entered the church to report his findings to Jonas who made note of them. As they were speaking, a scream rang out from the direction of the forest. Yeosang followed Jonas out of the church as a crowd started to gather.

“Get back!” a voice yelled. Yeosang and Jonas pushed their way to the front to find a gruesome scene unfolding before them. A body had been pulled out of the well and was currently being cradled by a woman who was wailing as he clung to the lifeless body.

The person who had yelled was Abel. He was trying to shield his wife, Prudence, from view. Yeosang approached, placing a calm hand on his shoulder before moving past him and kneeling beside his wife. She was sobbing uncontrollably and when Yeosang leaned down to look, he saw Judith’s face, pale and colorless. He sat back up as Jonas kneeled beside him.

“It’s Judith,” Yeosang whispered to the elder minister. Jonas glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the body. “I will handle the crowd, you tend to her,” he said softly, nodding at Prudence and standing up.

Yeosang placed a hand on Prudence’s back. “Let’s get her inside,” he said softly in a calm and kind voice. He removed his cloak, using it to shield Judith’s body from view and guided Judith’s mother to stand before he carefully picked up Judith’s corpse and followed Prudence into the house while Jonas spoke to the crowd that had gathered.

Yeosang followed Prudence to the kitchen where she cleared the dining table and Yeosang carefully set Judith down. “Would you be so kind as to fetch the village doctor,” Yeosang asked Prudence and Abel’s eldest child, Michael. He nodded and hurried out of the house.

Yeosang guided Prudence to the living room and sat her down, kneeling before her. “Tell me everything,” he said softly.

Between sobs, Prudence managed to tell him how Abel had gone to the well to fetch some water and that pulling the bucket up was proving to be a chore indeed. He asked for help and as he and two other men retrieved the bucket, they pulled up Judith’s body.

Yeosang’s heart sank as he turned to look through the doorway into the kitchen where Judith’s corpse lay, covered by his cloak. The door behind him opened and Michael returned with the doctor in tow, Abel and Jonas following close behind.

Yeosang got to his feet, gesturing for Michael to sit with his mother as Jonas instructed Abel to sit while the two priests followed the doctor into the kitchen. Yeosang pulled his cloak back and resisted the urge to gasp as he finally got a good look at Judith.

Her eyes were closed, as if she had been asleep. Other than the color being drained from her skin and due to her wet hair and clothes, she looked like she might have fallen in and drowned if it hadn’t been from the rip in her dress and the hole in her chest.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Doctor?” Jonas whispered. The doctor, Jones, had a look of shock on his face. It was clear to Yeosang he had, in fact, not seen anything like it before. “It looks as if…” he started, glancing towards the doorway before lowering his voice.

“As if her chest has been ripped open.”

Yeosang looked up from Judith’s face to the doctor. “Ripped open?” he repeated softly. “What kind of creature could do this?” Yeosang asked, keeping his voice low. The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Perhaps a bear or some kind of large cat—”

“There are no other marks on her,” Yeosang countered angrily. Jonas held his hand up. “Keep your voice down, Pastor Kang,” he said calmly. Yeosang took a step back, lowering his gaze. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Jonas leaned forward, peering into the gaping wound in Judith’s chest before standing back up and turning to the doctor. “Her heart seems to be missing,” he said softly. Yeosang looked up as Jones leaned forward to inspect as well, letting out a soft prayer.

“Can you close the wound?” Jonas asked, drawing both Yeosang and Jones’ attention. “I…” Jones turned to look at Yeosang but the younger minister said nothing, offering no help. “I can try. Bring her to my office. I’ll conduct my work there.”

Jonas nodded and left the kitchen to ask the family for a sheet or blanket to cover Judith so she can be moved. Abel and Michael tried to protest but Jonas insisted, so the doctor can close the hole in her chest, offer her some dignity.

Once a bed sheet had been retrieved, Michael and Abel carried Judith’s body over to Jones’ home so he could stitch the wound closed and Yeosang left the house in a daze. Had this been the work of the figure he’d seen last night? What was it? Some sort of demon?

Jonas called for a meeting of just the adults, leaving the children and young unmarried adults at home while he finally broke the news of Judith’s death and the manner in which her body was found. He also revealed that the culprit might possibly be a demon that was summoned no doubt after Hongjoong’s hasty execution.

“What does that mean?” Nicolas asked from his seat in the back of the church. “It means nothing,” Jonas answered. “Only that we must be vigilant and keep a watchful eye. Pastor Kang and I will fashion more protective charms and deliver them door to door so you may protect your homes from the demon.”

After the meeting, Yeosang was kept busy, fashioning more charms to have Jonas bless so they could give them to the villagers. Yeosang had already given your parents’ some of his own making so he saw no reason to make anymore for your family.

Once he had finished this task, he went by your parents’ home, apologizing for not visiting sooner. He helped your mother around the house and took your meal up to you. He was more than pleased to see you were starting to regain your strength and that you were eating actual food now. He spent a couple hours reading to you while you ate before he had to leave again.

The next two nights, the charms did not seem to work as two more women were killed. Sara’s body was found at the edge of the forest, strangled and Charity’s body was found just outside the pig’s pen while her head was found in the chicken coop. 

Sensing that they would most likely require help, Yeosang spoke to Jonas about sending out word to neighboring villages to ask for help. Jonas agreed and helped Yeosang write the letters and send them out. 

All they had to do now was wait.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since Yeosang sent out the letters and he was back out, patrolling at night. He and a few of the other villagers had agreed to take turns patrolling at night to keep an eye on the village and it was Yeosang’s turn. 

He was passing in front of the church when he heard the snap of a twig and turned his head to look between the church and the house next to it. “Is someone there?” he asked, his voice slightly raised. He waited for a response but when he got none, he was about to continue on until another snap and sound of footsteps.

He hesitated, staring into the dark until he remembered the dark figure he’d seen trying to get into your house and continued forward, one foot in front of the other as he walked between the buildings. As he reached the back, he peered around, seeing nothing standing out in the dark. He turned to look behind the house and saw nothing. As he turned to make his way back, he felt a hand grab him and his back slammed against the outside wall of the outhouse.

He tried to pull the hand off him but it proved to be too strong. The lantern fell and Yeosang looked up to find the same black fiery eyes looking back at him. The dark figure he’d seen outside your house.

“What do you want?” Yeosang choked out, grabbing at the hand around his throat. He watched as the blackened skin of the figure melted away, eyes wide in both shock and disbelief as the familiar face of Hongjoong appeared before him.

“It cannot be,” he whispered. Hongjoong smiled at him before letting go of Yeosang’s throat and took a step back. Yeosang fell to his knees, massaging his neck and coughing before he looked up at Hongjoong. “How?” was all he asked.

“How? How what?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head. Yeosang was able to get a much better look at him now. All the blackened skin had melted away and Hongjoong as he had been before his death stood before him. His eyes were the same fiery red irises, surrounded by black and two small, black horns protruding through the skin of his forehead.

“How are you here?” Yeosang asked, looking up at Hongjoong as he stood motionless in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him. “How did you come back?” Hongjoong let out a scoff.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, glaring at Yeosang. “No,” Yeosang said softly. “I guess it doesn’t. But what do you want? Why did you kill those women?” Hongjoong stared at Yeosang wordlessly for a moment before speaking.

“I’m just returning the favor to my murderers,” he replied. “I’m taking their futures away just as mine was ripped away from me.” Yeosang got up slowly, grabbing his lantern. “An eye for an eye will make the world blind,” he said, to which Hongjoong burst into laughter.

“Were you always this boring?” he asked. Yeosang frowned as he looked at Hongjoong. “Does this plan for retribution include Y/N?” he asked, taking note of the way Hongjoong tensed up, his smile falling. “Her father led the charge after all.”

Hongjoong uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, closing the distance between them. “Why wouldn’t it?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dangerously low. “Her father is just as guilty as the others. I’ll take his future from him, too.”

Yeosang resisted the urge to protest, instead taking a deep breath despite the pounding of his own heart and shaky breathing. This was the closest to hell he’d ever come and never want to do it again.

“What about your feelings for Y/N?” Yeosang asked softly. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes as he studied Yeosang’s face. Whatever he was expecting Hongjoong to say, it wasn’t what came out of his mouth next.

“What feelings?” 

Yeosang felt his heart sink as he looked at Hongjoong’s stoic expression. 

“You…” Yeosang’s words failed him. How could he just forget everything like that? After everything you’d been through to be together, the plans you both made, how could Hongjoong just toss it away like that? It made Yeosang so… angry. ‘How dare he?!’

“You and Y/N,” he started. “You loved her. You were so in love with her. How do you not still feel that way?” Yeosang demanded, his anger bubbling to the surface. Hongjoong studied him carefully, tilting his head from side to side before a smirk settled on his lips.

“Oh I see,” he said, taking a step forward. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Yeosang took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Hongjoong. “W-what?” he whispered. “Of course not! I would never do that to Hongj—”

“How noble of you,” Hongjoong snapped. “Putting aside your feelings so the outsider that lives in the woods could have a chance at love.” Yeosang took note of the change in Hongjoong’s voice. It was deeper and it sounded like more than one person was talking at once.

It sounded… inhuman.

“Poor Pastor Kang. So young and lonely,” he continued, stalking forward as Yeosang backed away. “In love with a woman who would never love him back. How pathetic.” 

Each word was like a stab in the chest. He had never truly considered Hongjoong his friend and he knew Hongjoong never considered him a friend either but he had always respected Hongjoong. “Stop it,” Yeosang said as his back pressed against a tree.

“Regardless of what this mortal once felt for the human girl, she will die,” Hongjoong continued, the inhuman voice speaking through him. “I will get retribution and I will kill her.” Hongjoong started as he started to turn away. “And if you get in my way,” he continued before hesitating to look back.

“I’ll kill you too.”

Yeosang watched as he disappeared into the shadows of the house and from view. The sound returned to the night, crickets chirping loudly from the grass, an owl hooted in the distance and Yeosang snapped out of his horrific trance.

If it hadn’t been clear before, it was now; Hongjoong had returned but something else had come back with him. Only one question remained for Yeosang to answer.

Who had come back with him?

Loud banging at the door woke Yeosang with a start and he sat up with a gasp. He looked around in a sleepy daze as the loud knocks continued. He pulled back the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he stumbled through the house to the door.

He pulled it open, blinking in the bright light of the day. 

“It’s Y/N!” your father said, a look of fear on his face. “Something is wrong!”

Yeosang snapped out of his daze and moved to grab his coat, pulling on his boots and dressing in a hurry. He followed your father across the village to your house. As he entered, he could hear a commotion coming from upstairs.

 Yeosang pushed past your father and headed up the stairs quickly. Your bedroom door was open, your mother sitting on your bed, helping you sit up and holding the pail as you retched violently. “I don’t know what happened!” your mother said tearfully as Yeosang crossed the room.

“How long has she been like this?” Yeosang asked, looking at your mother as you vomited into the pail. “I don’t know! I came in to check on her and she was moaning in pain. Her pillow was drenched in sweat and she was warm to the touch. She started throwing up but she hasn’t stopped,” your mother explained quickly as Yeosang knelt down, lifting your face.

All the color had left you, your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and it was clear you were weak. “What’s wrong with her, Pastor Kang?” your father asked. Yeosang turned to look at him before looking at your mother. He finally looked at you as you retched again, a loud gagging sound coming from your throat.

“I can’t be certain,” Yeosang said. “What has she eaten recently?” he asked. “Just meat and potatoes, the same I have been giving her since she was able to keep food down,” your mother answered. You retched again, throwing up into the pail. Yeosang glanced down and noticed red swirling in your sick.

He looked up slowly at your mother. “Fetch the doctor,” Yeosang said softly. Your father stepped into the room. “What?” he asked. Before Yeosang could answer, you vomited again only instead of stomach contents, it was nothing but blood.

Your mother let out a wail as Yeosang turned to your father. “Call for the doctor!”

Your father stumbled out of the room and headed down the stairs as Yeosang stood up, removing his coat. “Has she been drinking anything?” Yeosang asked as he rolled up his sleeves. “Just cider,” your mother answered. “Where did the potatoes and meat come from?” Yeosang asked as he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“She’s growing cold,” he murmured. “Just from our reserves. The potatoes were harvested from our vegetable garden!” your mother answered as Yeosang took the pail from her, moving to the window to toss the contents out and move back to the bed.

“Do you have anything in the house that hasn’t come from outside?” he asked, looking up at your mother. “I have some bread from the neighbor. And some bone broth she made. I was getting low.” Yeosang guided your mother to her feet. “Heat up the broth. Do not take your eyes off it,” he instructed. “I will stay here with her.”

Your mother hesitated, looking at your sickly form. “Go!” he snapped. “The more time you waste, the worse she will get! I think she’s been poisoned.” At that, your mother hurried out of the room and he could hear her footsteps rush down the stairs.

Yeosang climbed onto your bed, settling next to you as he helped you sit up. He set the pail on the bed and grabbed the rag from your bedside, using it to wipe the blood from your chin. “He can’t enter your home,” he muttered to himself. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t poison your food.”

You let out a small sob and Yeosang felt his heart break. “It’s going to be alright,” he said softly. “Just stay with me, Y/N.” A fresh wave of nausea took over and you vomited violently into the pail, more blood. Yeosang wiped your face once more as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. He looked up as Jones and your father entered the room.

“She’s vomiting blood,” Yeosang quickly explained. “I think she’s been poisoned.” He could see the expression on your father’s face change from confusion to anger. “Are you accusing us of—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything!” Yeosang snapped as Jones moved to start his examination. “Your food must have been tainted before coming into the home. The demon could have poisoned your food before you brought it in,” he continued, addressing your father.

“Then why aren’t we sick?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head. “I do not know. I can’t offer any explanation.” Jones felt the sides of your neck, massaging before looking up at Yeosang and then to your father. “Is she allergic to anything?” he asked.

Your father stared at him. “Allergic? I don’t think so…” he trailed off. Jones murmured to himself. “I’ll need charcoal then,” he said, looking up at your father. “Charcoal?” your father asked. Yeosang was starting to grow tired of all the questions. “Whatever for?”

Jones turned to your father. “Do you want me to save her or not?” he asked, exasperatedly. Your father gulped and exited the room as another wave of nausea took over, causing you to vomit into the pail. Yeosang helped you lie back, wiping your face.

“Do you know if she’s allergic to anything?” Jones asked. Yeosang shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. She never mentioned anything.” Jones nodded as your father returned, fingers smeared with black as he held a few pieces of charcoal in his hand.

“Ahh, thank you,” Jones said, taking the pieces. “Were these outside?” Yeosang asked, looking up at your father who shook his head. “No,” he answered. “They were in the pantry.” Jones looked around. “Oh, do you have a mortar and pestle?” he asked. Your father disappeared for a few moments before returning with the item. 

Yeosang watched as the doctor ground up the charcoal for a few moments before turning. “Sit her up, please.” Yeosang did as asked, pulling you up and allowing your back to rest against his chest. “Open her mouth.” Yeosang did as instructed, holding your mouth open as Jones mixed the charcoal into a flask of liquid. 

“What is that?” Yeosang asked. “Wine,” Jones answered. “It’s from my home. It’s safe,” he added, noticing Yeosang’s expression. “Tilt her head back slightly, yes like that. Good,” he said. “She might fight this but it’s important she swallows it. If anything is in her system, this should flush it out.”

Yeosang nodded and kept one arm firmly around your chest as Jones tipped the glass, allowing the concoction to spill into your open mouth. He used his free hand to massage the front of your neck, forcing you to swallow. As soon as he went to pour more into your mouth, you gagged, struggling against Yeosang’s grip. 

“Hold her!” Jones said. Your father watched in horror from the doorway as Yeosang and Jones managed to get you under control and force you to drink the rest of the mixture. “She will start vomiting again,” Jones said breathlessly as he replaced the lid on the glass flask and you slumped back against Yeosang.

“It may get dirty, bloody even, but it is vital you let the antidote run its course,” Jones explained. The next moment, your body started convulsing and Yeosang grabbed the pail just as you sat up, grabbing the pail from him and vomiting into it. It looked horrid and smelled even worse.

Your father gagged and stepped out as you continued to retch, vomiting into the pail everything in your stomach. Yeosang eyed the contents, seeing nothing but black goo. After several minutes of this, you seemed to have run out of things in your stomach to throw up.

There was a strange gagging sound from your throat almost as if you were choking. “Something’s lodged in her throat,” Jones said, stepping forward but Yeosang was quicker. He gave you one solid thump on the back and whatever was stuck in your throat was forced out, hitting the inside side of the pail and falling into the black goo.

You let out an exhausted huff and slumped back against Yeosang once more, hands falling limp. Jones took the pail carefully. “I think the worst is past,” he said as he looked at your exhausted form. “I’ll fetch some water to clean her face,” he added. He walked out of the room, carrying the pail and Yeosang heard his footsteps wane as he descended the steps.

Grabbing the bloodstained rag, Yeosang attempted to wipe your face but wasn’t able to make much progress. Moments later, your mother appeared, carrying a small basin with water and handed Yeosang a clean rag before setting the water on the bed.

“Will she be alright?” your mother whispered as Yeosang dipped the rag in the water and started to clean your face, chin, mouth, and even neck. “I don’t know,” Yeosang answered truthfully. “I think Jones has done all he can. Now we must wait.”

Your mother nodded and headed for the door. “Could you bring that broth?” Yeosang asked, looking up from your sleeping expression. “I’d like to try and get something into her stomach as soon as allowed.” Your mother nodded and left the room.

Once Yeosang was satisfied you were cleaned, he leaned back against the pillows, letting you rest against his chest as he listened to the sound of your shallow breathing. He felt your forehead and while you were still clammy, he could have sworn he felt some warmth to your skin.

Hours passed, your mother finally returning with the broth as well as a bowl of something for Yeosang. “I’m sure you didn’t have time to eat before you came here. It’s just porridge,” she explained. Yeosang offered a smile, thanking her before turning his attention back to you.

Some time passed before Jones returned with your father. “I checked the pail,” Jones explained. “There was something in it.” Yeosang looked from the doctor to your father and back. “And what did you find?” he asked.

Jones stepped forward, presenting an item he no doubt washed thoroughly before handling it. It was a pendant. One Yeosang recognized. Before he could say anything, your father spoke. “It belonged to… him.” Yeosang looked up at him, realization setting in. He glanced back down at the pendant, staring up at him.

Just as he surmised, it had belonged to Hongjoong. But what was it doing in Y/N’s stomach and more importantly how did it get there?

Jones gave you one last examination and determined that only time would tell if he’d administered the antidote in time if it had even been poison to begin with. Yeosang and your father thanked the doctor and Yeosang remained behind while your father walked him out.

Yeosang ate the porridge your mother had brought him but as soon as he was done, he turned his attention back to you. “I know you don’t share the same faith as me,” he whispered. “But I’d like to pray for you, if you’ll let me?”

He’d been holding your hand in his and when your hand tightened, fingers lacing with his, Yeosang took that as you giving him your permission. He closed his eyes, silently praying to whatever god was listening that you would make it through this.

Yeosang stayed the rest of the day with you, refusing to leave your side. He was gently shaken awake by your mother. “Night has fallen,” your mother whispered, holding a candle. “You should sleep in your own bed. Come back in the morning,” she said. Yeosang shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “I’ll stay here if that’s alright. I’ve been praying over her,” he added. “I must have fallen asleep. I’ll stay.” Your mother looked taken aback but when she noticed how peacefully you were sleeping in his arms, she relented. “Of course,” your mother replied, setting the candle down on the bedside table.

“Good night then, Pastor Kang,” she said as she walked to the door. “Good night,” Yeosang replied as the door shut, leaving you two alone in the dim light of the flame. “Now, where was I?” Yeosang murmured as he tried to trace his mental footsteps only to give up after a moment to start his prayer all over.

You slept through most of the next day, only getting sick once to cough up what was left of the charcoal and wine in your system. Yeosang managed to get you to sip a little of the broth and continued to recite the same prayer over and over.

Your father stayed out of the room, leaving your mother the only one to willingly enter. “He believes this is all his fault,” your mother said as he sat on the chair beside your bed, doing some mending while Yeosang listened to her.

You were fast asleep in his arms, your breathing had evened out and your sweat had lessened. Instead of being cold, you were starting to grow warm again, like life was seeping back into your body. Holding you like this, so close, made Yeosang feel even more protective over you.

He looked up, looking towards your mother who kept her eyes on her sewing. He was tempted to say that your father was indeed responsible for all of this but he bit his tongue, not wanting to open that jar. ‘All in time,’ he told himself.

Your mother looked up from her sewing and lowered her hands. “Could I ask you something, Pastor Kang?” she asked, drawing his attention. “Hm?” Yeosang hummed. Your mother hesitated, glancing at your sleeping face before speaking in a low voice.

“Do you love her?”

Yeosang hesitated, not because he didn’t know the answer. The truth was he did love you. As a friend, but also as more. He hadn’t found the time to confess to you but when he learned about you and Hongjoong, he knew he stood no chance, not when he saw the stolen glances between you when Hongjoong visited the village on occasion.

He knew you would never look at him that way and he was fine with that. He respected your choices. But love you he did. He showed it in his own way. When he warned you about the rumors and made you promise to stay out of the forest, when he shielded you from seeing or hearing things that might upset you, or when he agreed to marry you so he could push it back and free Hongjoong. He wanted your happiness above everything else, even if it cost him everything.

Yeosang looked up as your mother’s expectant and waiting face. He could be honest now, right? Hongjoong was gone, for all intents and purposes and what remained was no longer him. It couldn’t be. He died. Then why did Yeosang feel like telling the truth would feel like betraying Hongjoong or rather, the memory of him?

It felt selfish, that Hongjoong should lose everything and Yeosang could gain everything. It was life’s cruel trick, that he could stand to gain the love of his life but at the loss of hers.

He looked back down at your sleeping expression. Was it selfish when Hongjoong would never be able to fulfill the promises he had made you in life but Yeosang could offer you any and everything you wanted? If you wanted to leave the village and start a new life, Yeosang would give up everything he owned for your dream because he was willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, isn’t that what love was? A series of compromises and self sacrifices?

Yeosang smiled to himself, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek. If it was selfish to do everything in his power to make you happy, then he would just have to be selfish.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do.”

The third day passed in the same fashion as the second. Yeosang spent a better part of the day praying, stopping only to eat and to feed you should you wake up. Your mother left the two of you alone and your father left the house early, not to return until dinner time.

Yeosang had just finished eating and was about to return to prayer when he looked down and saw your eyes looking up at him. He set his bowl aside and sat up, carefully helping you into a sitting position. “You’re awake,” he said softly. You reached up, cupping his cheek.

“Yeosang,” you said, your voice hoarse. He felt as if the world around him stopped upon hearing you speak finally. “Y/N,” he said with a laugh. “Y/M/N!” Yeosang called to the open door. “She’s awake!”

There were hurried footsteps and your mother appeared in the doorway, relief passing over her. “Oh Y/N,” she said, crossing the room and grabbing the chair to pull closer. “Hi, mama,” you said softly. Your mother’s lips parted in shock as you took one of your hands in both of hers and let out a soft cry, bowing her head.

“I’ll fetch Jones,” Yeosang started, moving to get up but you grabbed his arm. “No,” you whispered. “Don’t go.” Your mother smiled, letting go of your hand. “I will go. Stay with her,” your mother said as she got up and hurried out of the room.

Yeosang turned to look at you, a relieved smile on his face. “You have no idea how worried we were,” he started. You looked down from his face to your hand, moving it from his arm to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You stayed with me, didn’t you?” you asked in a scratchy voice. Yeosang cleared his throat, looking at your joined hands.

“I did,” he answered. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

You looked back up at him and his breath caught in his throat. He could see the look in your eyes, it was one he’d only ever seen you give Hongjoong before. Something akin to adoration. It only lasted for a moment before footsteps interrupted the moment.

Your mother returned with the doctor and your father in tow.

“Okay, everyone out,” Jones instructed. “I need to examine my patient!” You turned to Yeosang who gave you a reassuring nod. “I will be back as soon as he’s done,” he said softly. “I need to go speak with Jonas and inform him of your condition.”

Yeosang grabbed his coat and headed down the steps with your mother and father. He pulled the coat on as your parents sat at the table. “I will return with Jonas,” Yeosang explained. “He asked me to inform him the moment Y/N woke up.” 

Yeosang exited the house, making his way to the church where he found Jonas tending to things in the office. “Pastor Kang,” Jonas said as Yeosang entered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Y/N is awake,” Yeosang explained quickly. “And more importantly,” he continued. 

“She is speaking.”

Jonas accompanied Yeosang back to your parents’ house and the two waited downstairs for Jones to give you the all clear. The doctor returned to the kitchen moments later and gave the priests permission to enter before he informed your parents of your condition.

Yeosang led the way up the stairs to your room, knocking gently before waiting for your soft voice to call out a simple come in. Yeosang opened the door, peering in to find you sitting upright, looking exhausted but better than you had in weeks.

You watched as Yeosang entered, eyes widening as Jonas also entered. Yeosang moved to your bedside, grabbing the chair and setting it a comfortable distance from your bed. He offered it to Jonas who held up his hand as he stood by the door that was now shut. “You take it,” he said to the younger priest. “She’s much more comfortable with you.”

Yeosang glanced at you before taking a seat. You looked from Yeosang to Jonas nervously. “Pretend I am not here, child,” Jonas said with a smile. “I’m merely here to listen to your testimony.” You turned your gaze to Yeosang. “We need you to tell us what happened,” Yeosang started. “After you ran away from the village in the aftermath of—”

“Hongjoong’s death,” you finished, surprising both Yeosang and Jonas. “I’ll try,” you said softly, reaching for a glass on the bedside table. Yeosang grabbed it and handed it to you. “Doctor Jones gave this to me. It’s water mixed with some sort of mineral. It’s supposed to help me regain my strength.” Yeosang smiled as you took a couple sips and took the glass from you, setting it back down.

“Where to begin,” you said softly. “From the beginning,” Yeosang encouraged. You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting your story.

“After my father told me what had transpired, I knew I couldn’t stay. I ran away from home and into the woods,” you started. “Where did you go?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention. “To the cabin,” you answered. “Hongjoong’s cabin?” Yeosang asked, taking a deep breath when you nodded.

“I figured I would spend the night and in the morning, gather what I could and leave the village.” Your words sent a short pang through Yeosang. You had still planned to leave without Hongjoong but he could understand why. You continued, telling them about the knocking and the storm. “And then…” you trailed off.

“Then what?” Jonas asked. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “He was outside the cabin,” you whispered, turning your gaze to Yeosang. “Who?” Jonas asked. “Hongjoong,” you answered. “He was covered in dirt and blood and in this trance but when I called his name, he snapped out of it. He came into the cabin and I couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be dead.”

“But there he was, standing in front of me. He told me what he remembered happened. Something about brimstone and fire and darkness. I can’t remember all the details but to me it sounded like he was describing—”

“Hell,” Yeosang whispered. You nodded, eyes meeting his. “Then what happened?” You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “Then I tried to clean his skin but the dirt wasn’t coming off and it was then I realized it wasn’t dirt. It was like his skin was charred. Burned.”

“Fascinating,” Jonas whispered. Yeosang turned to look at Jonas, finding his interest and choice of words odd. You cleared your throat. “And then what happened?” Jonas asked. You hesitated, looking at him before looking at Yeosang, looking uncomfortable.

“What happened?” Yeosang asked. “We…” you trailed off, lowering your gaze. “Are you saying you had relations with him?” Jonas asked bluntly, his straightforwardness making Yeosang increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. You nodded slowly as more tears formed.

“I see,” Jonas said softly but offered nothing else. “And then what happened?”

You spent the next several minutes telling as detailed an account of what happened from the multiple times you and Hongjoong had sex to his odd changes in behavior until you reached the day of your return.

“I had woken up to find Hongjoong missing so I went looking for him,” you explained, sniffling. “I found him crouched by the stream close to the cabin. I could tell something was wrong but when I tried to get him to open up to me, he lashed out,” you continued. “He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against a tree. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die…”

Yeosang resisted the urge to take your hand, to comfort you. He knew he couldn’t do those things in front of Jonas. “Then he seemed to come to his senses and dropped me. He said he couldn’t control it and then he ran away. I couldn’t chase him because I had not seen which direction he had gone in,” you pressed on.

“So I went back to the cabin to wait for him.”

“And did he come back?” Jonas asked, his voice void of curiosity. You nodded, biting your lip to hold in a sob. “He did,” your voice broke as you spoke. “We talked and then he kissed me. He… tried to…” you choked out a sob, your grip on your sheets tightening.

Yeosang couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned forward, taking your hand gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t think you need to say it. I can assume what happened.” You looked up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks. “So you ran?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention again. You nodded. “I did,” you answered.

“I ran as fast as I could through the forest until I ran into Yeo – Pastor Kang,” you explained, looking down at your hands. “After that, everything is a blur.”

Jonas nodded wordlessly as he watched you and Yeosang in mild curiosity. “I see,” he said. “Well, I must return to the church. Thank you for your honesty and your testimony, Miss Y/N,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It has been most informative.”

He bid you both farewell and turned to leave, closing the door behind him leaving you and Yeosang alone. You shifted in bed, readjusting the covers as Yeosang moved to sit on the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft and full of caution. You looked up to meet his gaze. “Yes?” you asked, voice hoarse. Yeosang picked up the glass of water and handed it to you, watching as you took a gulp before handing it back, thanking him.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he continued as he set the glass aside and turned his gaze on you. The look on your face must have caused him hesitation because he glanced away, not speaking. Perhaps he was seeking the right words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up against your pillows more, the bed linens rustling around you, causing Yeosang to turn his head back to look at you. You locked eyes, staring at one another before he finally spoke.

“The other night while I was on patrol, I ran into Hongjoong,” he started, looking down at his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I asked him about why he’s doing this and he said he wants to take the futures away from the men who killed him.” Yeosang fell silent as he let his words sink in.

You blinked slowly, waiting for him to continue his story. When he didn’t, you spoke up. “Didn’t my father lead the group?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang nodded silently, staring at his knuckles that were starting to turn white.

“And when I asked him if he planned to kill you–” Yeosang’s voice cracked and he stopped talking momentarily. You looked up from the sheets to the young pastor. “What did he say?” you asked, a lump forming in your throat as you waited for his response.

Yeosang took a deep breath, regaining control over himself before he sat up and looked up to meet your gaze. “He said he will kill you. He no longer has feelings for you. He only cares about retribution.”

Your stomach sank as he spoke, each word like a knife to your gut. You knew the Hongjoong you loved was gone but still learning that he wanted to kill you stung. It felt like someone taking a hot iron and jabbing it into your heart and twisting. You brought your hand up, placing it over your heart as your gaze fell back to the sheets. “I see,” you whispered.

You heard the sound of movement, the floor creaking as Yeosang stood and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took your free hand in both of his, the warmth of his hand a nice reprieve for your cold, clammy hands.

“I won’t let him,” he said softly. “Whatever I have to do, I will not let him hurt you.”

You looked up, meeting his soft gaze. “Thank you,” you replied, placing your other hand on top of his. “For telling me and for protecting me as you have while I was unresponsive. My parents told me that you stayed by my side the whole time I was on death’s door. Thank you for that as well, Yeosang.”

He said nothing, merely nodding his head, lowering his eyes to your joined hands. A thought crossed his mind and he briefly entertained bringing it up and after some internal back and forth, he let out a sigh, looking back up.

“I know this is not the time to speak of this, but before all of this, I had promised your parents that I would marry you,” he started, piquing your interest and you tilted your head slightly, curious as to what he was about to say.

“And after everything that’s happened, I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d like to keep that promise,” Yeosang continued. “If you’ll still have me that is.” Your expression remained stoic as you regarded him, mulling over his words before a small smile broke across your face. It was the first genuine smile Yeosang had seen on your face in weeks.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a nod. “Especially if it will get me out of this house,” you added to which Yeosang looked mildly confused. You glanced towards the door before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“I love my parents and I’m thankful for them taking me back but if I am to be honest,” you explained. “They’ve been insufferable since I returned. Especially after the sickness. Mother has barely slept or left my side and father looks worried all the time. I think getting married might ease their worries. Especially if it’s to you.”

Yeosang couldn’t help the small surge of pride from your revelation. “I’d like to marry you very much,” you added as you settled back against your pillows. Yeosang recognized the fatigue that took over your features and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll speak with your father,” he announced, lifting one of his hands to feel your cheek. “Your skin feels a little cool,” he added. “Get some rest.” You nodded as he stood up, leaning down to press a tender kiss against the top of your head. “Thank you for speaking with us,” he added as you settled down, reaching to pull the blankets up slightly and tuck you in.

As you slipped into slumber, Yeosang walked quietly to the door, opening it and shutting it softly before descending the stairs. Your father was sitting at the table while your mother tended to the pot hanging over the fire in the hearth. As Yeosang entered the room, they both turned to look at him.

“She’s resting,” he announced. “She’s exhausted herself.” Your mother let out a small sob and your father nodded, sighing heavily. Yeosang hesitated as your mother went back to the pot before he walked a few paces closer. “I’d like to speak to you about something,” he announced, drawing their attention again.

Yeosang looked from your mother to your father who gestured for him to sit. Yeosang waved his hand. “It won’t take long,” he explained. “But before, you asked me if I would marry your daughter to save her reputation. Your reputation,” he started.

He could see the solemn shame on your father’s face as he recalled the reasons for marrying you off before. “Look, Pastor Kang,” your father started. “You don’t have to do it anymore. I don’t think our reputation is worth saving at this point.”

Yeosang remained silent as your father spoke. “It was wrong of me to ask that a man of God take a… my daughter,” he explained. “So if you’d like to back out of it, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Yeosang let out a small huff before he moved over to the table, taking the seat across from your father who looked up in shock at the sudden movement. “I know that before you were trying to save face because of Y/N’s relationship with Hongjoong but I want you to know that I didn’t care about her relationship with Hongjoong before and I don't care about it now. If your offer is still on the table, I’d like to take it. If not, I’d still like to marry your daughter.”

Your mother let out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her hand as your father looked from her to Yeosang, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t understand… She’s not… she’s been…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out which worked out in Yeosang’s favor.

“I don’t care who she’s lain with. I care about your daughter, daresay, even love her. I wouldn’t care if she was a virgin or not. I want to protect her in any way I can,” Yeosang argued. He could tell by the looks on their faces, your parents couldn’t fathom why he wanted to marry you but after a moment of silence, your father finally nodded and stood up, Yeosang following suit. Your father held out his hand and Yeosang shook it.

“You have our permission and blessing. As soon as she is well enough.”

The following day, Yeosang had a notice hung up on the door of the church, announcing his intention to marry you and that should no one object, it would happen much sooner than later. As he was a pastor and in good standing with the village, absolutely no one objected to his intentions and all that was left was for you to get better.

It had been a few days since the notice was hung and you were still bed ridden as instructed by the village doctor. You had taken over mending for your mother since you could do that from the comfort of your bed. Yeosang visited you daily and most of the time you sat in a comfortable silence as you sewed and he read. Sometimes he would read to you while you worked. He always left before dinner, despite your mother insisting he stayed.

Once you were allowed to leave your bed, your activity increased and you started helping with small chores as your strength returned, as did the color to your skin. You’d been sickly and it had shown but you were starting to look healthy again.

Your mother traded with one of the neighbors to get some new material with which to make a dress for you to wear at the wedding. You helped by giving your input but it was still a modest piece of clothing that you could always incorporate into your wardrobe.

As the day approached, you saw less and less of Yeosang and were concerned that maybe he was getting cold feet until he came to visit the night before the wedding. He finally agreed to stay for dinner and it was the first time you left your room to eat.

Normally you would have eaten in your room but your finished dress hung in there and you were adamant on not letting Yeosang see it until the wedding. A silly thing to some but to you, it was important and when you had told him, he agreed that if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Your mother had worked tirelessly that day preparing a nice roast dinner with boiled potatoes and a few other vegetables your mother had pulled from the garden. She’d also spent a good portion of the day preparing a nice dessert.

You sat across from Yeosang who sat between your mother and your father. It dawned on you as you sat there that in less than 24 hours, Yeosang would be your husband. Your thoughts were interrupted by your father who spoke up.

“And news on the demon situation?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up as you looked at him before turning your attention to Yeosang. “I hardly think that kind of conversation is appropriate for the table, dear,” your mother responded, very pointedly. Yeosang glanced at you before speaking. “Nothing of note. No one else has died–” he explained.

“Praise be,” your mother interjected and you could see Yeosang attempt to keep his expression neutral but you knew deep down he was fighting the urge to laugh. “But he’s still out there and that’s all the more reason to be cautious,” Yeosang continued.

“He’s still after Y/N and he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.”

Silence fell over the table and you continued to eat, keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself. You knew you could always talk about them with Yeosang but around your parents, you had to keep a facade. You couldn’t let it slip. Not now.

After dinner and dessert, Yeosang announced his departure. You walked him to the door as he thanked your parents for the meal. Once at the door, you stepped out onto the stoop, shutting the door behind you for a little bit of privacy with your soon-to-be husband.

“Are you alright?” he asked, no doubt wondering about your mental state after the conversation at the table. You nodded silently, reaching up to adjust the fastening of his cloak. “I am,” you answered when he continued to stare. 

“I know Hongjoong is gone. The Hongjoong I knew anyway. Whatever is left is a shell of him. And inside, an evil is parading around and masquerading as him. It must be stopped and banished,” you explained. Yeosang’s fingers curled gently around your wrist, eyes boring into yours.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Yeosang said softly. “I know you envisioned a life with him and that you loved him deeply. I’m not seeking to replace him,” he continued. You forced a smile. “But tomorrow I fully intend to promise myself to you. I know I can never make up for what you’ve lost—”

You leaned in, pulling Yeosang into a kiss, cutting him off. It was a chaste kiss without any ulterior motives. As you pulled back, a smile crossed your face. “I know,” you answered. “I don’t want you to replace Hongjoong. I just want to live my life.”

Yeosang’s hand moved up to cup your cheek as he stared into your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Yes,” you answered as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

It was something you hadn’t experienced since before everything went to hell. Hongjoong had been the only one to show you this form of affection and getting from Yeosang now was something you weren’t prepared for.

“Tomorrow, then,” he whispered, standing back up and giving you a smile, one you returned as he slowly backed away before he turned and walked through the darkness until his clothing blended into the night.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated quietly.

The morning passed in a blur as you were woken up by your mother and told to bathe, cleaning yourself. Your father had gone to the meeting house to prepare for the ceremony as he would actually be the one officiating your wedding. You dressed in silence, aided by your mother who then stood back to admire her handiwork on your dress. It was a simple dress, cut from plain cloth but it was still a work of art.

You sat in your room, nervously twiddling your thumbs and getting up every once in a while to pace. After what felt like an eternity, your mother finally opened your door and told you it was time. You followed her downstairs and stopped just before entering the parlor. Your mother turned to you and smiled. 

“It’s just us, Yeosang, and a few of the neighbors,” she said softly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t want too many people here. So I’ve asked Eliza and her family to join us.” You smiled, thanking her for taking your feelings into consideration.

The door to the parlor opened and your father appeared, looking between you and your mother. “Well, are we ready?” he asked. You looked up and nodded before following your mother and father inside.

It was as your mother had said. Your parents, Eliza and her parents, and Jonas were present as Yeosang had no family in the village. He’d moved to the village on his own and since then, Jonas had become an unofficial father of sorts.

You crossed the room behind your parents and stopped when you reached Yeosang’s side. His eyes followed you as you walked and you felt a surge of pride inside yourself when you realized he was unable to take his eyes off you.

Your father stood before you, the others in attendance standing behind you as you waited for your father to start speaking. “Marriage is a part of our lives here and ingrained into each and every one of us. It is a civil matter but of course, a spiritual one as well,” your father said, reading from a page in his journal. You felt Yeosang’s hand close around yours, fingers lacing with your own, helping to calm and ground you,

“Before me stands two young adults who have agreed to enter in this union, knowing fully that it is a promise they make not only before their family but also to one another. Yeosang,” your father turned to look at him. 

“Will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, lead her, comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Your heart skipped as you realized this was it. The vows were simple and to the point. There was never any extreme pomp and circumstance to weddings in the village as shown by the fact that it was just you and your family and one of your oldest friends.

You glanced up at Yeosang who met your gaze before looking at your father, a smile gracing his face. “I will,” he answered. Your heart calmed a moment before you realized it was your turn, eyes widening as your father turned to look at you.

“Y/N, will you have this man as your wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you obey him, follow him, help him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to him, as long as you both shall live?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You felt Yeosang give your hand a gentle squeeze and you looked up to meet his gaze, his soft brown eyes looking back at you. A calm settled over you as you looked into his eyes before responding without taking your eyes off him.

“I will.”

The moments that followed afterwards were a blur as the short ceremony concluded and your mother returned to the kitchen to make sure dinner was ready. Eliza and her mother joined while your father and Eliza’s father, Abel, stepped outside for a moment, leaving you alone with your new husband in the parlor. 

You stared at the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a simple one you had painted not long ago of the wildflower field you used to visit with Hongjoong. It felt like a lifetime ago now. You heard Yeosang approach you cautiously, his footsteps careful.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice quiet. You drew your attention away from the painting and turned to look at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. You nodded, a smile growing on your face before you crossed the distance. Before you had the chance to say or do anything, the door to the parlor opened and Eliza peered in, a smirk on her face.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced.

Yeosang led the way to the kitchen where everyone had already gathered around the table. You joined them, sitting across from Yeosang and next to your mother. The dinner was not unlike the one your mother had made the night before. Instead of a roast, she made a baked chicken with all the fixings.

The conversation around the table was mostly between your parents, Eliza’s, and Jonas but occasionally Yeosang or you would chime in. After dinner and desserts, you headed upstairs with your mother to pack whatever you planned to take with you.

Yeosang had been given a modest house when he moved to the village. Jonas lived in the church but Yeosang had opted to live on his own instead of moving in with another family. Since his home already had everything you would need, you were only taking the necessities, your clothes, a few personal possessions, and your books.

Your father and Eliza’s father carted everything over and once you were ready, you left your parent’s home for the last time. Your mother cried, as you expected she would but you reminded her you weren’t that far away and you could always come visit which Yeosang agreed with.

Eliza and her mother returned home and once your father returned and you said your goodbye to him, you left with Yeosang and the elder pastor. The walk was silent between the three of you but you were grateful for the silence. Jonas accompanied the two of you until you passed the church where he bid the two of you goodnight and went inside, leaving you and your new husband to walk the last stretch to his home alone.

You had never seen Yeosang’s home but you knew it was a one story three-quarter house. Once inside, Yeosang gave you a very short tour which consisted of the living room, a kitchen off from which a well sized and stocked pantry was as well as a borning room which made your cheeks burn.

You were married now and expected to carry out your duties as a woman and a wife. You were sure Yeosang would want children at some point but perhaps that talk would take place after the demon had been dealt with.

Yeosang showed you to the two bedrooms, one at the back of the house off the kitchen, which was where he had already claimed as his own bedroom, and one in the front which was an offshoot from the vestibule. “You are more than welcome to have your own bedroom,” he explained as you returned to the kitchen. “I don’t mind sleeping alone.”

Ignoring his statement, you removed your cloak and draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table before turning to him. “What’s upstairs?” you asked, looking at the ceiling. Yeosang followed your gaze. “Attic space,” he explained. “It’s just one large space.” He turned to look at you. “Would you like me to make the bed in the other bedroom?” he asked.

You shook your head, crossing the distance. “We’re married,” you started. “We don’t have to sleep in separate beds,” you explained, taking his hand and bringing it up to press your cheek into his palm. “We don’t have to share a bed if you aren’t comfortable with it,” he whispered but you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I want to.”

A silence fell between you as you stared up at him, eyes flickering down to his lips and back up. Yeosang must have read your actions because he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I know we’re married,” he started. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You leaned in, lips inches from his. “I know,” you answered. You could feel a single tremor course through his body prompting you to place one of your hands against his chest and push him back until he was against the wall beside the door to the bedroom.

“I want this,” you continued. “We’re married so there’s no reason we can’t do what married couples do.” You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to?” Yeosang stared at you for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes before carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you think I don’t want to, then you’re wrong,” he whispered, eyes searching yours, admiring the sparkle that seemed to gleam from them. “Then do it,” you said softly. “Make me your wife in every sense of the word, Yeosang.”

The moment his name left your lips, Yeosang pulled you into a searing kiss. Your lips parted and to your surprise, you felt his tongue slip past your lips into your mouth. His hands trailed down to your hips, grabbing at your dress and pulling you closer, pressing your body against his. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, pulling back, letting out a groan as your hands pulled at his clothes. “I am,” you replied, one of your hands sliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck until your fingers curled into his hair.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” you added, tugging gently, forcing his head back and exposing his neck to you. Yeosang let out a soft groan at the sensation but he submitted completely to your touch. “Then go ahead, wife,” he murmured as your lips left a trail of kisses down the side of his neck.

With your free hand, you started to pull at the buttons of his clothes, undoing them one by one until his overcoat was open. You pulled back only enough to push it off him, letting it fall to the floor before going back in, nipping at the skin of his neck as your hands continued to undo his shirt.

Yeosang’s hands stayed at your hips as you continued to undress him. It wasn’t entirely lost on you that this might be the first time anyone had touched him like this and yet, his movements seemed to match yours, falling into a rhythm as he started to pull at your own clothes. Once you managed to remove his shirt, he stopped you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.

You were about to ask what was wrong when he spoke, confirming your suspicions.

“I need to tell you,” he said, breathlessly. “I’ve never done this before. This is entirely new to me,” he continued, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in, cutting him off with a kiss. “I know,” you replied. “It’s okay,” you reassured him before taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom with you, not even bothering to shut the door as you led him over to the bed and guided him to sit.

He watched as you slowly started to remove your dress, a slight pink tinge reaching his cheeks as you undressed. “Shouldn’t I do that?” he asked softly. You fought the urge to smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you took his hands and guided them.

He maintained eye contact as he finished undoing the buttons of your dress and carefully pulled the fabric away from your body leaving you in your undergarments. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back, climbing onto the bed and forcing him to scoot further onto the mattress before straddling his hips.

One of his hands moved to the small of your back, fingers tracing a circular pattern against you through the thin material of your chemise. You took his face in your hands, studying his expression before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he mumbled against your lips. You shook your head, pressing another kiss and then another. “Well you are,” he replied. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he added between kisses, making you giggle, breaking your focus. “Am I?” you asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. He nodded silently, his free hand moving up to the side of your neck.

“I’m not just saying that because you’re my wife,” he continued. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Y/N.” You bit your lips to try and hide your smile but failed to stop the grin spreading across your face. “You’re beautiful, too, you know,” you replied.

“There’s something so… ethereal about you,” you added. Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he responded. “I’m not–” he started to say but you stopped him, pressing your fingers to his lips. “No, you are,” you retorted. “You’re beautiful, too, Yeosang.”

He didn’t respond, merely looked up at you before nodding, accepting your praise. “If you insist, my dear.” You nodded, pulling him close. “I do,” you answered. “In fact, I readily insist.” You sealed it with another kiss, moaning softly as his hands slid down your back until he had your waist in his hands.

He pulled you against him, your core grinding against him, brushing against the fabric of his trousers. You pulled back, placing both your hands on his chest and pushed, urging him to lie back against the mattress. “Lie down,” you said, which finally made him follow.

“You may be my husband,” you said, leaning over to kiss him once, twice, before speaking again. “And you may make all the decisions regarding our lives,” you continued, stopping him when he tried to interject. “But in this bedroom,” you whispered, lips ghosting over his.

“I am the one in charge.” As you spoke, your hand slipped between your bodies, finding the waistband of his pants and slipped under it, finding his hard cock and taking it firmly in your hand. The hiss Yeosang let out was uncharacteristic but it filled you with pride to have such an effect on him.

“Y/N,” he started as your hand moved, stroking him slowly. “Yes?” you whispered, eager to hear what he had to say as you continued to jerk your hand. “I’m yours,” he responded, eyes fluttering shut as you watched his face. “I’ve always been yours.”

‘Always?’ you thought, wondering what he could possibly mean but you would worry about that later. You squeezed slightly as your hand continued to move, taking note of Yeosang’s responses, reading his body language like a book.

He let out a whine as you removed your hand from his pants before pulling back to undo the ties of his trousers and slowly pull them down until you could toss them aside, leaving him completely nude under you.

You climbed back over him, straddling his hips as you settled down, feeling the smooth underside of his cock against your slick core. Yeosang let out a shuddering groan, hands moving to your hips to still your movements.

You gave him a few moments to adjust to the new feeling before his hands moved again, pulling your skirt up. “Shouldn’t we remove this?” he asked, his voice shaky. You took his wrists and guided his hands up to the tie at the top of your chemise.

“Go ahead,” you simply responded. “Undress me.” 

Yeosang hesitated before his fingers started to undo the ties, fumbling slightly as he did. Once it was untied, you merely pulled it off and dropped it off the side of the bed. You watched Yeosang’s eyes scanned your body, taking in the new sight before him.

After a few moments of silence and inaction, you took his hands again and guided them up to your chest. “You know you can touch me, right?” Yeosang nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s just all so new.”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his lips before sitting back up, slowly rolling your hips. You watched the way his eyes fluttered shut as you grinded against him before raising your hips slightly to reach between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his cock, lining the tip with your slit before you slowly sank down.

Yeosang let out a choked moan as your walls slowly swallowed his length. You resisted the urge to groan as he bottomed out, your pussy spasming around him as you both adjusted to the new feeling. “Yeosang?” you called softly, leaning over slightly and resting your hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

“Are you okay?”

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he licked his lips and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice. “M’okay,” he answered, words slightly slurred. “Just give me a moment.” You nodded, dipping down to kiss him gently.

After a few moments, and a few more kisses, his hands moved from your chest down to your hips, urging you to move. “Okay,” he said, eyes fluttering open. “I think I’m ready.” You bit back a smile as you nodded, raising your hips enough for him to slide out of you until just the tip was in and then sank back down.

Yeosang let out another moan, his eyes shutting again as a shudder ran through his body. “I’m okay!” he said suddenly. “Keep going, please.” You did as he asked, setting a slow and steady pace. “How does it feel?” you whispered, lips hovering over his.

“G-good,” he answered in a shaky voice. “Just good?” you asked teasingly. “I think I can do better than just good.” You moved faster, hips bouncing on him as you took his cock deeper. Yeosang let out a hiss that sounded an awful lot like a curse but you didn’t dwell on it.

Instead you angled your hips, driving his cock into your cunt at a new angle and making you moan loudly. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, fingers digging into your skin as his hips now bucked up to meet your movements.

“How about that? Is that better?” you asked breathlessly. Yeosang nodded erratically, moans slipping past his lips as you brought both of you closer and closer to the brink.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m not ready… I mean, I don’t want to — ” he fell silent but you were able to guess what he meant. “You don’t want it to end?” you asked, slowing your hips and rolling them instead. He nodded, hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

“Let’s change things up, shall we?” you asked. Yeosang opened his eyes slowly and looked up as you lifted off him, his cock slipping out of you. “What do you — ” he started as you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “You take over,” you said, lying back against the mattress and parting your knees. Yeosang hesitated before moving between your thighs.

You were about to reach for him but instead, he took himself in his hand and guided the head to your fluttering hole. He didn’t need to be urged or guided as he pressed into you, letting out a moan as he slid back into you.

Before you could offer any guidance, he moved his hips, thrusting into you experimentally. You let out a gasp as he moved and spread your legs further. Yeosang was careful not to lay his weight on top of you as he continued to thrust into you.

“Am I… I mean… is this right?” he asked, his voice breathless as he looked down at you with those warm brown eyes. You nodded, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a messy kiss that was full of tongue. 

Your free hand found one of his and you took it, lacing your fingers with his as you felt the all too familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, the tension building in your body but before it could snap, Yeosang’s voice brought you out of it.

“I think I’m about to—”

“Do it,” you replied, cutting him off, your fingers curling into his hair. “Come inside me. Make me your wife,” you added, walls fluttering around his cock which drove him over the edge and he came with a groan, hips stilling as he released inside you. Your orgasm followed as he emptied himself inside you, making sure that you took every last drop with a few more thrusts before he finally stilled completely.

The next few minutes were a blur of panting, whispered praise on your end before Yeosang pulled his now soft cock out of you and rolled onto his back beside you. You lay there for a few more moments, eyes shut as you basked in the aftermath of your climax before you finally sighed and opened your eyes.

You sat up and turned your head to look at Yeosang who looked utterly spent beside you. Carefully you got up and walked out of the room to the kitchen to grab a cloth and wet it before returning to the bedroom. You wiped Yeosang down before yourself and then tossed the cloth aside before climbing into bed and pulling back the covers.

Yeosang muttered in protest as you pulled the linens up to cover your naked bodies. “Shouldn’t we put our night clothes on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he started to drift off to sleep. You rolled over to face him and smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “No,” you answered.

“We can sleep like this. Only we will know,” you added. You felt his arms encircle you, pulling your body closer as he muttered something that sounded like an agreement. Yeosang quickly fell into the embrace of slumber and you followed shortly thereafter, a dreamless sleep encompassing you both.

The calm before the storm.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

[11cupids-tarot11]

Pile 1 -> 3 🩷

Short random messages regarding love for you! 💓

Pile 1- the chariot, the star and seven of coins

For starters the star card is making me think you might already have a crush on this person or might know of them, take what resonates for you.

For others, I'm getting this person might just really admire you. I'm hearing they like you so much they're willing to basically cross seas for you.

This person is strong willed meaning when it comes to you nothing else matters in the world, I think they have their eyes on a prize and are very determined when they want something which would appear to be you lol

I think this person is already planning y'all future in their head, like they've really got everything figured out even how they want to approach you 😭 (that's cute lol)

I feel like this person just really wants to say you're all in their space and they're accepting it. Like they can't wait for the day you two come together (and get married I'm hearing for some 😉😜) but they're definitely planning on making their move soon!

Other messages- 1111 might be significant, you're hot, lots of dates in nature, can't wait to kiss you, I miss you already.

Pile 2- I FORGOT TO WRITE DOWN THE NAME OF THE CARDS BUT I WILL NOT FORGET NEXT TIME MY POOKIES 🤞🏾😜🩷

Okay, for this pile I'm picking up on a dynamic that's like light and day, one person in this connection is a bit colder, closed off and I feel like someone in this connection just refuses to give up.

I'm hearing 'let your doors down' and this person might feel very hurt that the other isn't open to the same emotion intimacy the other is into.

I'm seeing it might be best to take a break, maybe the relationship has gotten to a point neither of you had meant it to or you're just really disappointed by the outcome and they're clearly not up to your standards and it's not good to settle for less.

I'm seeing maybe some of us are trying a little too hard to hang onto this connection but we can't change nor fix something that's not broken.

I am seeing for some of you that removing your energy might actually make this person miss you, and if they love you enough they'll come around and compromise so the both of you can feel fulfilled and happy in the relationship and if they don't clearly they weren't the ones for you and that's okay, because you never know when the universe is going to throw someone new your way! This could be a blessing in disguise 🥸.

Other messages- 444 could be significant, the color red, maybe a red car? I have no idea what song this is but it's got something to do with driving?idk ur person is singing it 🤣 Maybe that's significant for someone out there?

Pile 3-

So for this pile I actually heard 'its time!" I think this pile is being called to awaken to something or for some of you a special someone? 🥹

Okay this message was a little harder to read but I think both ends have been stressing out over this? And it's kind of ridiculous because you're both literally good people according to spirit that would have a very beautiful relationship and would grow like a freaking fruit tree! I think spirit is saying since neither of you will make a move they'll be forced to push both of you using the universe- like magic almost I'm hearing.

This pile was shorter, and I'm also randomly hearing someone in this connection could be short lol? I think someone here might smile a lot too, I'm seeing smiley faces!

Other messages- the song 'Magic by txt', 12, 111, the color yellow and maybe the month of May- June might be significant for some of y'all?

Have a fantastic day! 🌹 See you all again soon! Hope you enjoyed 😊

Dm for personal readings!

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: what is changing in your life this season?

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: how can i present myself in the best way possible?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

you might be meeting someone new who brings a fresh perspective or emotional depth into your life; it could be a friend, partner, and/or mentor. this is also a great time to start a new artistic endeavor; painting, writing, or crafting, which will allow you to express yourself in unexpected ways. personal growth can occur through these activities as well as they aid with introspection or therapy, leading to a better understanding of your own feelings and needs. engaging in and/or receiving unexpected acts of kindness that uplift your spirits and encourage you to connect more deeply with others will greatly benefit you this season. receiving and/or giving thoughtful and heartfelt gestures in a romantic relationship will deepen emotional bonds. that being said addressing and healing past emotional wounds is critical, this will lead to a renewed sense of peace and emotional clarity.

there might be a new opportunity for growth in your career/investments. prioritize your self-care and personal well-being this season; perhaps through adopting healthier habits and/or finding more balance in your life. don't shy away from practical advice that will help you manage everyday responsibilities more effectively. you could experience increased productivity in your work and/or personal life; which could be supported by your increased organization and focus this season.

you are likely to find yourself making quick decisions and/or decisively acting to pursue your goals, even if it means facing challenges head-on. make sure you are engaging in stimulating conversations or debates, where sharp thinking and clear communication are crucial. this will help you make the correct decision for you long term. also make sure you are using your logic and analytical skills to cut through confusion and to help you solve problems efficiently. it is time to address conflicts or misunderstandings directly.

pile 2

you may experience unexpected expenses, find it hard to save money, and/or face a temporary loss of income. make budgeting and financial planning your focus starting now. as there could be delays or obstacles in your career, such as a promotion being postponed, a job offer falling through, or feeling unmotivated/uninspired at work. minor health issues or feeling physically drained could arise; you need to pay more attention to your well-being, diet, and/or exercise routines. you may find it difficult to concentrate on tasks which leads to unfinished work and/or feeling scattered. your investments (financial or otherwise) may not yield the expected returns, causing you to rethink where you’re putting your resources (and time) in to. you could be questioning what’s truly important to you, leading to a shift in how you view success, happiness, and/or stability.

you may feel trapped in a situation (relationship and/or job) without a clear way out. which could lead to frustration or a sense of helplessness because you’re unsure how to move forward. is it the universe or you? it might just be you who is resisting necessary changes; holding onto the familiar out of fear of the unknown (even if it’s not in your best interest). otherwise, instead of taking the time to think things through, you might make hasty decisions that lead to you feeling as sense of regret. you could find yourself holding onto past hurts, grudges, and/or regrets, which prevent you from moving forward with a clear and open mind.

you might feel like you’re not making progress, even though you’ve put in a lot of effort. there’s a sense of being stuck or not being able to move on to the next phase of your life. i feel like it is unresolved issues or "loose ends" that need your attention before you can truly move forward. this could involve past relationships, projects, and/or personal matters that require closure. it may be a struggle to find closure in certain situations, whether it’s ending a relationship, leaving a job, and/or moving on from a past experience. this lack of closure can prevent you from fully embracing new opportunities. there is a sense of disconnection from others and/or from your sense of purpose. there could be a feeling of isolation / lack of harmony in your relationships or within yourself. the time is now to wrap things up or learn better coping mechanisms.

pile 3

you may find yourself managing multiple priorities or projects - prepare yourself mentally for taking more on. life may throw some curveballs your way; you will be required to adapt quickly. go with the flow and handle changes with grace - this will be essential. budgeting and/or managing money might be a key focus for you this season as well. you need to organize your time better to accommodate all of your commitments, both personal and professional.

projects and/or plans that you hoped would move forward might encounter unexpected setbacks. which could lead to frustration and/or a feeling that things are not progressing as you thought they would. you might struggle to see the bigger picture, causing you to hyper-focus on immediate problems and not the long-term. which could pigeon hole you or decrease your opportunities upcoming. now is a good time to re-evaluate your current goals and/or strategies. rethink which direction you want to head to ensure it aligns with your true desires and capabilities. also this season there may be issues with teamwork and/or "your cooperation". misunderstandings and/or a lack of support from others is likely.

otherwise, there is something worth celebration happening for you this season; whether it’s a party, a reunion, or any event that brings your people together. enjoy the company of friends and loved ones - celebrate your achievements and/or special occasions this season. your social circle and friendships are going to be more important than ever this season. you might find yourself relying on your friends for support or just enjoying each others company. reminder: you don’t have to go through things alone; there are people who care about you and are willing to help.

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

-> Chapter 1(Here)| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

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Hello everyone, pls don't expect much from this chapter,which is going to be part of a series, will be that good. I may have grammatical errors and wrong spellings so please don't hesitate to tell me in the comments about it. English is not my main language. Also, I write some very descriptive and long scenes about what the reader does because i got used to writing descriptive essays so please bear with the long paragraphs and sentences. Thank you.

And yes, I'm back. Also the Misunderstanding series will be updated after my exams this is just in my drafts and I wanted to just upload it.

-Eli

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms (😝 im joking bro) if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3.

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You close your eyes and think back to that very fateful day — the day that entirely altered your life's course and shatter any semblance of normalcy you once knew. The memory is etched in your mind, clear and vivid. The secret your café had.

You had always dreamed of owning your very own café when you get older. It had always consumed your thoughts and fueled your ambitions. Doing everything you can to be able to make your dream come true. It was a dream that guided you through your highs and lows, the setbacks and triumphs, and now, your very own cafe is now right infront of your eyes. You stand awe, gazing upon your newly built dream café that represents your years of hard work and dedication. It almost feels surreal. The weight of such an accomplishment settles in your shoulders, filling with a sense of pride that it threatens to burst out of your chest.

The obstacles and challenges you faced along the way have not gone unnoticed. The countless hours of planning, the sacrifices made, the hurdles overcome—each scar and battle wound a testament to your unwavering determination. They have shaped you into the person you are today, a person who is standing on the precipice of their own extraordinary creation. In this moment, you can't help but reflect on how far you have come. You just want to curl up into a ball and cry for how proud you are for yourself.

As you approach the door to your café, your hand trembles with anticipation. You grasp the smooth handle, feeling the coolness of the metal against your palm, and slowly turn it. The door swung open, emitting a soft creak that pierced the silence. Above it, a small, quaint bell dangled delicately, waiting to be disturbed. The cascade of delicate notes wove together seamlessly, announcing your presence, like a whispered greeting to anyone who would listen.

You stare in awe and wonder at the interior design of your cafe , captivated by it's beauty. The space exceeds your imagination and sketches, each detail meticulously brought to life. You explore every corner, your eyes eager to take in every detail. The plants you selected with great care breathe life into the space, their vibrant green leaves adding a touch of freshness and enhancing the cozy, warm aura you envisioned. Sunlight steams through the windows, casting a golden glow that illuminates upon your carefully handpicked furniture, adding a touch of charm. Every detail, from the placement of tables and chairs to the color palette and textures and to the shelf placed at the wall behind the counter with small sized standees of genshin impact, comes together harmoniously, painting a reality that is more beautiful than it was in your imagination.

You took one last look at your own café, only to catch sight of a door that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. It wasn't in your sketches, nor was it part of the layout you had memorized. How could something so out of place suddenly appear in your beloved café? How weird. You were sure that when you went inside this café it was never there. It was on the opposite side of the front entrance door of your café. It had a very different kind of design from the doors you had. How weird . Were you perhaps hallucinating? Was your stress and sleep deprivation finally getting to you? You resort to pinching and slapping your cheeks in an attempt to jolt yourself back to reality. Nope. You can still see it. You rushed to go outside of your café. As you step out into the open, your eyes scanning the exterior, you're met with a surprising revelation—the door you saw inside your café is nowhere to be found. It's as if it had vanished into thin air, leaving you bewildered and questioning your senses.

Nonetheless, you breathed a heavy sigh of relief and once again went inside of your café, blaming your hallucination to your stress. However, as your eyes scanned the interior again, you saw the door still there.

'Oh, hell no.' You thought and quickly opened the front door again, took a look at the exterior, look at the door inside, and continued doing that action for a minute. Yup, you're officialy hallucinating.

You looked at the strange door and felt a nagging feeling of curiousity wanting to try and open that door. Maybe it was actually a big ass sticker that one of the builders placed as a prank. You never know. Steeling yourself, you went closer to the door on your tippy toes. Carefully trying to be quiet. Why? You don't know. You just knew you had to. Maybe it was an instinct of yours. You were now infront of the door and you tried reaching for the door knob still thinking it was a sticker but the coolness feeling in your hands said uno reverse. You abruptly took back your hand in shock. You stared down at the atrocity in front of you. You quickly raised your foot and took off your shoes/heel/slipper and held onto it tightly. Preparing yourself to open the door, you took in a deep breath and reached for the door knob once more. Twisting it open, a ray of sunlight shone through the small crack as you pushed the door open gently.

Your eyes widen at the sight infront of you as you had fully opened the door. The grip your hand had on your lethal weapon widened and it slipped from your hands. The sight infront of you was so surreal. 'This can't be true, right?' your head was going to so many places, unable to comprehend what was going on. You felt kinda dizzy.

You would be a fool not to recognize this place that you had seen so many times throughout your life. A few kilometers infront of you was the City of Mondstadt in view. You could even see the knights guarding the gate and Timmie with his pigeons at the bridge.

The weird door from your cafe was actually a door to the Genshin Impact world. Wow... wtf.

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also pls take a look at my poorly drawn drawing of what your view looks like cause for the love of god I can't seem to explain it:

Also you're in a cliff or something. so yeah

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[aziraphaletummyfanclub]

aziraphale tummy fan club manifesto

hello and welcome! my name's sam (main account @ineffabildaddy). i'm a good omens fan who wants to uplift and celebrate the good omens fan creators who write, draw and discuss plus size/fat/thick/chubby aziraphale🩵 this includes fics, fanart, shitposts and meta!

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thank you so much for looking! have a wonderful day <3

[circeyoru]

What if, instead, Alastor was saved by the angel reader seven years ago...

Imagine the reader saving Alastor because even though he is a demon, the reader doesn't like leaving someone in need of help...

The angel reader would always go to hell without the other angels knowing to help other demons after the extermination (note that the demons don't know that the reader is an angel, she wears a disguise), as she found it very cruel...

On some descents into hell she found Alastor being very injured and helped him by healing him with her angel powers, and even after healing him. decided to sometimes just visit him, of course Alastor became a yandere for the angel reader....

The question is what will happen? I could make this fanfic...

I'm so sorry for not responding earlier! I suddenly remember there's this request or ask. Idk what to label this as and since it's an Any's send, I can't exactly contact them. So I assume this is just my ideas or input

I'll use AR as a short form for Angel!Reader cause I'm not sure if you're making it in 'you' perspectives or an actual OC

For AR's background and why AR can go to Hell, I see AR being there as a healer or support to the exterminators. Remember how Carmilla said the angels fight with no protection or tactic? Yeah, they got AR as the powerful healer to cover for them

So if you seen the {Unwanted Soul} I wrote, I think it works similar in a way that AR saves and heals Alastor. But it was done in secret, like Alastor was in and out of consciousness when it was badly hurt, then AR saw and came to heal him until he was well enough while not caring for tiredness and whatnot

Obviously, Alastor caught you healing him. At the sight of AR's wings, he was going to attack but he felt his energy returning and his wound healing. He faked unconsciousness and waited a bit to see what AR was doing, when he realized AR was healing him, he let it happen

I think he was going to attack AR, but something happened. Another exterminator came to see why AR was stationed there for so long. Alastor was about to act, until AR stepped in and claimed to have dealt with the matter. The exterminator was to escort AR back since some of them needed AR's healing, so with one final glance, AR left

Alastor melted into the shadows and observed AR performing healings and support magic left and right without breaking a sweat. Though he felt anger when he saw AR surrounded by winged holy friends

Next extermination, he hid close to where the portal opened and stared intently for AR's appearance. When he saw AR fly through, he staged an attack on him that would make you heal him, make you close to him

It works, and next time, you went to find Alastor to make sure he was somewhere safe. Even letting him hid in your shadow so he was the safest sinner in the extermination

Alastor uses the fact that AR is a resident of Heaven and have lack of knowledge of his name to his advantage. Your protectiveness and naive belief that he was weak were addictive to him

But he doesn't like how his time with AR was way too limited, less than one day per year. That's too much of a torture

Why not take a vacation with you?

Now, I'm leaving it at this cause, if the sender of this ask/request is planning on writing a fanfic, it's a lot of spoils here. If you're the sender and want more ideas from me, feel free to dm (privately message me or not anonymous yourself in your request so I can contact you) me.

Otherwise, this is my thoughts on this story idea.

[noxiatoxia]

Sorry for the jankiness in this, I had to control both my Vita and PC at the same time, but here is a comparison! On the left, my fantranslation, and on the right, the official translation.

If you're wondering what this is all about, I'm working on a patch (at least of the prologue, I cannot promise the whole game) of SDR2, that aims to provide a more accurate experience than the official English translation.

More accurate how? Danganronpa not only suffers from a lot of mistranslations, but a handful of clunky dialogue and very literal translation choices that sacrifice nuance and an accurate experience for the sake of keeping the literal text. I want this patch to:

Fix all the mistranslations.

Add back in character accents, speech pattern quirks, and more accurately represent how they talk.

Fix the dialogue to sound more natural in English, as if these could be actual words spoken aloud (for the most part).

Give English players a version of the came that focuses more on capturing the spirit, energy, and emotion of the original dialogue than heavily focusing on providing the most literally accurate translation.

More on all these points under the cut.

What about other fantranslations? (orenronen, etc) I have not seen every conceivable English fan translation for SDR2, but a big one is orenronen's on SomethingAwful. It was never finished past chapter 3, but still stands as probably the most popular fan translation. Orenronen's work is extremely impressive given the speed and quality of the translations. That said, it is not without its mistakes, and I think suffers from perhaps taking too many liberties. I'm hoping my patch can strike a good balance between his and the official translation to deliver the most authentic experience possible.

So is this SDR2 "definitive" edition? Not exactly, I'll explain under the cut.

Big changes in this clip:

Added back in Souda's accent along with changing his name back. Tanaka's talent was also changed.

There is a joke that both I and the original English translation had to change as no English player would get it. You can read more about it in this post I made. (along with Jum-P being changed from Golden Hawk to Golden Eagle)

Komaeda speaks of Tanaka's time in the breeding/animal club, but as far as I'm aware, this is not a thing in many Western schools. The main gist of the text is Tanaka is amazing with breeding animals. The fact it was a club is irrelevant to the meaning, other than providing that he is a high schooler (which we already knew), so I cut it out to be more understandable to most English players.

Tanaka adds the part on about his hamsters not going easy on their enemies himself, the hamster doesn't say that. Kept the Hulk reference as it's a pretty apt translation and makes up for the missed reference from earlier. However I'm thinking of maybe changing the line afterwards to "they are not used to holding back" as that would be more accurate.

If you're interested in the details of this patch, please read below! I want this to be made for the fans by the fans, so any input is welcomed. If you have suggestions for how to improve text to flow better in English, or wish to correct/inquire about translation choices of mine, I more than welcome it. No matter how big or small, I want everyone to give their feedback and opinions and suggestions.

If you are interested in helping in the translation, be it from the perspective of a Japanese speaker, a play tester, or want to offer general writing/wording advice and feedback, please DM me. While I don't plan to form a team (I prefer to work alone), projects like this benefit greatly from opinions and feedback. Especially if you are familiar with both the official English and orenronen's version, I would appreciate your help. If a good number of people seem interested in helping, I may form a Discord or Tumblr community to facilitate discussion easier.

Welcome to under the cut. So, let's talk about that earlier point about definitive edition.

The thing is, save mistranslations, NISA (the official translation) and orenronen's versions of SDR2 are equally correct in some manner. NISA took a more literal approach to each sentence, while orenronen took more liberal approaches, instead going off what would sound best/fitting. Neither of these are incorrect. There is no "definitive" translation for any media in any language, but speaking from the perspective of Japanese -> English, there is rarely ever an exact way to be 1:1.

Let's take an example. The word "usagi" means "rabbit"...but it also means "bunny" and "hare". These are all relatively the same thing to the layman, but they impart different nuances. A character who chooses to only say "rabbit" instead of "bunny" may sound more intelligent or old-timey. So, how do you know which one to choose when it could be any 3? That's a very simplified version of the kind of choices you have to make in translation. When it comes to sentences that get longer and have more nuance even in the original Japanese language, you suddenly have a whole new beast to deal with.

You may have heard the common joke of "inexperienced translators" who translate the phrase "しょうがない" as "it can't be helped". Most English dictionaries will tell you this is what the phrase means, and yes, it is used in such a manner, but the fact is, most people do not say "it can't be helped". "I can't help but [...]" is much more common, but the standalone phrase is usually "it is what it is" or "that's just how things are", etc.

The phrase itself literally translates as "there is no method".

So, we have three versions of this phrase. The literal translation, the widely-posited English dictionary translation, and a naturalized version that is not literal to the actual Japanese word, but is an "equivalent" to what people would say in English. Which of these is more correct? Really...none of them. There is no more correct answer, just what sounds better or fits better.

This is all to say, my translation is going to be me doing the very, upmost best I can do to capture the meaning and nuance in all the words said, but also making it sound good and natural in English. This will inevitably include changing very cultural-specific things that English players wouldn't get, e.g. the Mutsugorou Kingdom joke Komaeda makes. As an English translation, I feel it is most important to naturalize it for an English audience. That is the whole point of translating from one language into another.

Above all, I will be honoring the feeling and meaning of the text rather than the literal words like NISA did. In other words, I would personally go with "it is what it is".

Keep in mind I am also one guy. I am not perfect in either language. Even people who speak English or Japanese as their first language make mistakes in them still, and translation only increases that chance. That's why extra eyes on this project helps. I do feel like I am a little out of my league, but at the end of the day, I'm doing this out of passion and fun. The official translation will still exist even if I make my own, so if anything, I'm hoping it provides a different experience that can help people grasp a closer meaning to the Japanese text.

Okay, let's get to the game stuff. Firstly, as you've seen, changes will be made to Character names/talents.

Ultimate Breeder -> Ultimate Animal Breeder. As funny as the implications are, his title was never meant to be confusing or ambiguous in the Japanese version.

Ultimate Musician -> Ultimate Pop Rock Musician. Mioda's title in the Japanese version is actually "Ultimate K-On Club Member", but was changed since most English players don't know what K-On is. It is most comparable to Pop Rock in terms of sound.

Soda Kazuichi -> Souda Kazuichi.

Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko -> Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko.

Kirigiri Kyoko -> Kirigiri Kyouko.

A vote was held to keep Tanaka Gundham instead of Gundam or Gandamu (but this is subject to change depending on opinions I hear from others. His name is supposed to be a Gundam reference). A vote was also held to keep Hinata Hajime instead of Hazime.

Character Accents: As is with these types of games, the point is to have zany, eccentric characters who talk in zany, eccentric ways. Danganronpa is extremely hit or miss when it comes to carrying over these quirks. For the rest of this post I'll just be talking about SDR2 of course, but basically everything I say applies to the other Dangan games as well.

Some characters have their accents kept, at least in part, while others are just ignored. For example, Souda and Owari's accents were only sometimes kept, or watered down, while Usami's accent was removed entirely.

Speech quirks: This is largely context based. A cutesy girl using ね excessively comes off differently than a typical teenage boy using ね excessively, and will be translated differently...at least, that's how I view it. For the girl, I may make her speech more bubbly, cute, and appealing. For the boy, I would akin it more to going "like" or "um" a lot. Of course, if the boy is going for a cutesy image, or the girl is supposed to be mature, then I would flip this around. Like I said, this part depends 100% on context for each line.

Accurate representation: This one is a lot...but I'll try to boil it down. Japanese has several was to say "I" and "You"; different words and different ways to write those words. In fiction, this is usually a vehicle to tell you about the character's personality.

For example, among boys, it is common they will either use "boku" or "ore". "boku" is generally more polite than "ore".

However, there's multiple ways to write "ore". Hiragana, Katakana, or Kanji. The way it is written imparts a different impression. Hinata, for example, uses ore, kanji (俺) to refer to himself. Souda uses ore, katakana (オレ) to refer to himself. While this gives them both the impression of being masculine & impolite, Hinata using kanji gives the added impression of him being more intelligent and calm, while for Souda, katakana gives the impression of him being more abrasive and eccentric.

The meaning of what script is used also changes depending on context.

For example, for "you", both Hanamura and Komaeda use "kimi", which is a soft, friendly way to say "you" among friends. (Although, this is speaking strictly from the standpoint of fiction. You rarely use "you" in real Japanese. Anime characters do it all the time though, so it doesn't really count as "rude" by itself.)

However, Hanamura uses kimi, kanji (君) while Komaeda uses kimi, katakana (キミ). This both gives them the impression of being open and friendly, but for Hanamura, speaking with kanji makes it seem like he's being more proper and refined, and with Komaeda, speaking in katakana makes it seems like he's being more casual and laid back.

And then there are very unique "I" and "You" pronouns. Tanaka uses "ore-sama" (俺様) which sounds like he is saying "the great and amazing me", basically.

Ibuki says her own name, but this got translated poorly. Saying your own name as a first person pronoun, while not common, is more common in Japanese than English. Especially by kids and teen girls, it's seen as a cutesy thing. But it doesn't really come across like that in English. I will likely get rid of Mioda speaking in third person altogether, instead trying to incorporate this manner of speech into other forms, as it comes down to Mioda simply acting cute and eccentric. I think a good alternative is for her to occasionally speak of herself by saying "we" or "us", as that is not uncommon in English.

Similarly, Usami/Monomi talk with a cutesy ending. -desu becomes dechu, -masu becomes machu... "chu" is a very cute sound in Japanese, and it's supposed to drive home Usami's personality. I see this get translated as UwU speak a lot, which isn't incorrect, and in fact is a better translation than doing nothing like NISA did, but she does not speak with a speech impediment. It is only her endings that are modified. Me, personally, I will reword Usami to speak in a more simple, cute manner like a child show's protagonist, like Dora. I will also change some words to be cuter, like everybody -> everybunny, and you -> chu, but she will still speak normally.

And sometimes, pronouns change. Hinata uses omae (お前) to refer to other people, but for Monokuma, he's used omae (オマエ) before, changing the script to reflect his animosity.

This isn't even getting into honorifics or keigo. Honorifics (like -san, -kun, or no honorifics at all) reflect how respectful a character is of other characters. Similarly, "keigo", being often referred to as "polite speech", is commonly denoted by if a sentence ends in "-desu or -masu". Not speaking keigo in the situation these characters are in is a bit of a toss up. I wouldn't say it's automatically rude given they are all of the same age and status, and classmates don't always speak that way to each other either, but I would personally think most would approach this situation being polite when they're strangers.

There are also particles, some of which are more rude/masculine than other equivalent particles, or imperative speech, which is extremely rude (and not really ever used in real life).

On a politeness scale, for example...

Tsumiki uses keigo and uses -san for everyone, boys and girls. In the context of the rest of the cast, this sounds like she's speaking extremely politely and formally.

Komaeda does not use keigo but uses -san for girls and -kun for boys. He also uses "regular" particles. In context, this seems like he is speaking casually. Not rude, but not formal.

Hinata does not use keigo and does not use honorifics. He uses very masculine particles and is prone to using imperative form. In context, this seems like he is speaking extremely rudely.

Of course, NISA's version of SDR2 translates everything the same mostly since they go for a very literal approach, meaning these things that can't be translated into English all get translated the same, which is a shame. A lot is lost about how these characters speak and interact with the world. Specifically, Hinata suffers the most. Not just from stiff dialogue, but from getting his rude speech cut down immensely. The official art book for SDR2 claims that part of the design philosophy for Hinata was wanting to make a protagonist who was very masculine and direct. I want to keep that spirit in this patch, factoring in Hinata's choice in speech to influence how things get worded in English. While a sentence like なんだそれ！？Literally translates as "What is that!?", I would write it differently depending on the character after factoring in accent and everything we just talked about. "What the heck is that!?" for Souda, and "What the hell is that!?" (or even replacing hell with fuck in a tense situation) for Hinata, for example. For Komaeda, "What on earth is that!?" etc...

I think those are all the big points...if you've read this far, thank you :]