#he's so unhappy with the position he's found himself in

[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

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Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Chapter 1 l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 7,725

Chapter 2

Four Years Earlier 

The sound of loud voices booming and laughter still followed Chris as he shook his head to himself, rolling his eyes as he walked further into the hangar, headed toward his fighter jet. He didn’t understand how one visit from a member of the royal family could cause such an uproar on the air force base, especially when the crowned prince was in their unit and most had gone through university with James as well. Sure he had seen the way other people treated James, knowing that one day he would be their king, but the further they had gotten knit together as a unit, the less it had mattered to all the guys. Chris figured because of that it wouldn’t be as shocking when another member of the royal family made an appearance on base, but the chaos that seemed to ensue the minute the princess had stepped out of the shiny black car was something that Chris just couldn’t seem to understand. 

Well… that wasn’t completely true. 

Having been born and raised in Ellington, Chris had been well aware of the royal family. He was constantly reading, hearing and seeing so much about them, although he had been too busy as a teenager working to help support himself and his mother to pay much attention. It wasn’t until he received a scholarship for university that he had met James, the future king of Ellington. He saw the way everyone treated him, varying between fawning over his every moment to completely avoiding him so they didn’t run the risk of saying or doing the wrong thing. 

Maybe it was because of their first meeting when he laughed at James for missing the easiest layup on the basketball court, but from the moment Chris met him, the two had just connected. To Chris, he was just James, one of his best friends. And to James, Chris was what felt like his first real friend. The only guy who didn’t care who he was or what his position was but was simply just his friend. 

They were constantly together throughout university and somehow ended up in the same unit once joining the royal Air Force afterward, something Chris knew was probably some special strings that were pulled but he didn’t care. He had come to see over the years that even though being a royal might have seemed glamorous, he’d seen the reality of how isolating and burdensome it was, and if he could be there for James, he was happy to be that. 

With Chris being virtually the only person that James trusted implicitly, he heard a much more honest and unguarded version of James’ life as opposed to the highlight reel that was on the cover of newspapers. He knew of all the hard things like the strained relationship James had with his father, the virtually non-existent one he had with his mother, how insane his boarding school experience and schooling was, the immense pressure he had growing up, how he felt disconnected from his youngest sister Annie with her being so much younger and him already gone away to school. But he also knew that the saving grace of his growing up years and even now, was his sister Rosie. 

By this point Chris had reached his cubby in the base, taking his time as he changed into his olive green flight suit and boots, preparing to go on a test flight but found himself smiling as he thought about the way James had talked about Rosie over the years. Chris couldn’t even count the amount of times their classmates or now even guys in their unit made comments to James about getting them an introduction to Princess Rosalie. She was arguably the most popular person in the country amongst most people, bringing a relatability and normalcy to the royal family who often felt out of touch with most of reality. 

It was fairly often that one of her comical faces revealing everything she was thinking was photographed and put on the front page of the paper, or reports of her sparkling personality was talked about in contrast to the stoic and demure ways of most nobility. She felt more attainable, more in-touch with what was going on in the country and that made everyone look forward to seeing her more in the press in the coming years now that James would be serving in the Air Force. 

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Chris that James had always clammed up anytime someone mentioned his sister and that it was a long time before he even talked to Chris about her. James was fiercely protective of his sister and loved her so deeply. They were each other’s person, the only ones they could really trust and rely on, but once James started telling Chris more about her, he understood why. He had never even met her and Chris could feel a softness in his heart toward her just from hearing about her for so many years now. It was no wonder to him why James loved her so much, but when he saw her for the first time in person today, stepping out of that car, it also was no wonder to him why she caused such an uproar amongst the Air Force unit because as beautiful as those pictures of her were on the newspaper, they didn’t hold a candle to her in person. 

As much as he would have liked to meet the girl he’d been hearing about for years, his dedication to his duty and annoyance at the way his unit turned into a bunch of ogling school boys at the sight of the princess made him need to get away. Chris had worked his ass off to get through university on his scholarship and was committed in every sense of the word to the Air Force, wanting to serve his country well and he wasn’t going to let himself be distracted by the loud chaos that was ensuing outside the hangar, instead focusing on making his way over to his jet to prep for his test run. 

He hadn’t quite made it when the sound of a door opening echoed in the virtually empty hangar and a voice he’d only heard in a more restrained and proper tone on the television before echoed as she laughed, “It looks like coming to visit you is more dangerous than I thought.” 

“I think you’re right, that was fuckin’ insane out there,” James laughed back, and Chris could practically see the look on James’s face from behind, the crinkle of his eyes, the smirk on his lips. “I don’t know that i’ve seen those guys go that ape over a girl before.” 

The footsteps stopped just on the opposite side of the plane, blocking Chris from their view as the laughs continued to echo. “No I was more meaning the fact that your commander stands way too close to me and spits while he’s talking,” the princess snickered. 

With a quick wipe of his hands on a rag, Chris poked his head out from behind the plane. He shot a kind smile to the princess before his eyes returned to James.“Try sitting in the front row at his briefings,” he chuckled, a smirk growing across his lips. 

“Hey! I was wondering where the hell you went!” James greeted Chris, shaking off the hand Chris offered to him. “Chris, I want you to meet my sister, Rosie.” 

Chris saw the way that Rosie visibly shifted, her posture tightening and her undoubtedly years of training kicking in as she put a beautiful but seemingly surface-level smile on her face as she put her hand out to greet him. Chris bowed to her but before he could take her hand, he saw James nudge her side, making her stumble slightly in her precarious heels as James told her, “Rosie, this is Chris, my best friend who I told you about. You don’t have to be formal with him.” 

It was as if all those years - undoubtedly - media and publicity training slipped and it seemed as though the real Princess Rosie came out. A familiar look crossed her face, one that mimicked James’, as she mischievously arched a single brow and told him, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard about you…” 

A strange feeling settled in Chris at those words, but he let the humor lead as he shook his head, admitting, “That could be dangerous.” 

But his worries melted away at a simple shrug of Rosie’s shoulder as she conceded with a playful smile, “Maybe.” 

Now, even all these years later, Chris could still vividly remember that smile. Sure he’d seen hundreds of photos of Rosie smiling in the papers but that smile he saw that day was different. It was one he still couldn’t forget even now as he walked up the steps to the grandiose palace, two immaculate guards opening the doors for him as he walked inside. 

It felt weird to him to be entering in the place he’d seen in his history books in school on just a normal Monday. Although he’d been so close to James for years now, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that his best friend would one day be his King. The Air Force had been a level playing field for them all, but stepping in the palace just to meet his friend was the most surreal feeling he’d ever experienced. 

Before he had a chance to dwell on it too much, he felt a hand clap on his back as James appeared next to him, smiling wide as he greeted him, “I’m glad you could come today.” 

Chris suppressed an eye roll at those words, knowing there was no choice on his end - or anyone's end, really - once the royal family got involved in affairs. “Don’t even act like you didn’t pull rank and get me out of a briefing I was supposed to be in,” he muttered, only half serious. “I knew the second that they told me I suddenly wasn’t needed in it, I knew something was up.”

Chris’ words didn’t seem to affect the charming royal much. “Hey, being the prince does have its perks every now and then,” James admitted teasingly, before he turned serious. “Did you have a good time at the ceremony last night?” 

He huffed out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a wry smirk. “You know I hate that shit,” he reminded James. The odd…. Well, he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse, the extended invitations and offers of accompanying James to events, whether to charity visits that always warmed his heart within seconds, taking in the countless sporting events from the royal Box with beers in hand and the sun on their skin, or sitting through an admittedly painful dinner of tucked elbows, stick-straight posture, the pricks and pinches of safety pins on his hastily-altered suits. It was all just a bit much at times.

The gravel crunched under their feet as they rounded a bend in the path, following the carefully and overly lush landscaping through the gardens as a few members of the security team lingered about. Their presence was not lost on Chris as he felt their eyes on the pair every so often, keeping a respectable distance from them. James’ sarcastic laugh seemed appropriate as he pointed out, “Try being royal, it’s shit like that every day of the week.” 

Chris raised a brow, his lips curling again, this time in genuine amusement. He’d always felt for James, knowing how desperately his friend wished to disappear in a way Chris and their peers always could. “If you’re trying to make me envy you, it’s not working,” he teased him playfully, keeping the tone light as birds chirped, flying above them. 

“I am wondering though if now I have to only refer to you as Captain?” James asked, his shoulder bumping into Chris’ as he shoved his hands into his pockets, a playful twinkle in his eyes at his friend’s suddenly unamused expression. 

“Only if I have to refer to you as prince now,” he retorted dryly. 

His friend’s jaw dropped nearly instantly, causing a smile to grow on Chris’ face. James moved a hand, shoving a laughing Chris. “That’s a low blow.” 

He shrugged, turning his head over his shoulder momentarily to catch a peek at the lake behind them before they turned to head back inside the large, ornate doors. “Well, ask a stupid question,” he answered, quickly thanking the guard as the doors were pulled open and they stepped back inside.

The doors closing echoed momentarily until the only sound was their soft footsteps on the pristine floors, reverberating off the walls of the estate. 

James turned serious and his hand reached out, resting on Chris’ shoulder, making them come to a stop in the middle of the entrance hall. “Seriously Chris, I’m proud of you. Nobody is going to make a better captain than you,” he congratulated. 

Chris gave a soft smile, nearly uncomfortable with the honest praise. “Let’s hope so,” he sheepishly answered, grateful for the trust James placed in him. “I still haven’t gotten my first posting yet so we’ll see where things go after this. I know there were some things on hold until this ceremony happened.” 

There was a look on James’ face that Chris couldn’t quite read, but he figured out why when James began, “Funny you mention that because that’s part of the reason I asked you to come today. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”

“I don’t know that I like the sound of that,” was Chris’ admission with a raised eyebrow, looking quizzically at his best friend who had become more like a brother to him over the past years. 

“You probably won’t,” he saw James’ eyes crinkle up as he loudly laughed, Chris joining in with a chuckle of his own before his pace slowed as they ventured down the lengthy hallway Chris swore was longer than most of the Air Force hangars he’d been in. He shoved his hands in his pockets while turning to glance at James, his face more stoic as he started, “I know that you know about a little bit of what’s happened with my father.” 

He just nodded before James motioned toward an open room, directing him to go in which Chris did, admitting on his way by, “Well, I’d still have you in my unit if it weren’t for that.” 

There was a silence that hung in the air as James closed the door behind them, the sound echoing in the ornate room. Chris awkwardly stood, his hands fidgeting in his pockets with discomfort. He’d been with James nearly every day for years on end now, knowing him so well, better than just about anybody, but somehow this just felt different. He was standing here in the fucking royal palace and his best friend was the heir to the throne of the entire country. Here he wasn’t just his best friend James. Here he was the crowned prince. 

Chris waited until James sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, seeing him motion to the empty one before he sat himself, listening while James started explaining, “Things are actually a little worse than we thought. He needs a few months to recover which means I’m going to be here taking over for him more to give him space to rest and I’m sure you’ve seen in the papers that now Rosie is going to be taking my place on the tour.” 

Over their years of friendship, he’d heard his fair share about James’ beloved sister and that coupled with what he’d read in the papers it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her reaction and couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, “I’m sure she’s thrilled about that.” 

“You can imagine,” James just shot him a look through his own laugh, knowing just how accurate his satirical comment was. He ran a hand through his perfectly swooped over hair, his gaze falling to the carpet before admitting, “Honestly, I think Rosie has been struggling these past few years while I’ve been gone more than I realized. I stayed in the Air Force longer because I loved it and it’s what I wanted to do and honestly, I don’t think I really looked at how much it put on her.” 

Not quite following him, Chris’ brows furrowed as he asked, “So are you trying to get her out of doing the tour?” 

“No, I can’t really do that. I need her to do the tour because we just don’t really have a choice but the reality is that there’s a lot of pressure being put on Rosie in some different ways.” He vaguely motioned with his hand. 

Chris knew there was a lot about royal life he didn’t understand and never would. Growing up with a single mother and an after school job to help buy groceries felt like night and day to how James no doubt grew up. With just a glance around the huge room with oil paintings on the wall, ornate furniture, and guards stationed right outside it was obvious how different their lives had been. But Chris had come to see just how burdensome James’ life was in a way he couldn’t imagine and couldn’t seem to understand what he alluded to with Rosie and point blank asked,  “What do you mean by that?” 

“There’s just a lot riding on this tour. There’s a lot of pressure on her for being a little more stable, being viewed differently, and it’s no secret about all the unrest there is along the coast which brings a pretty real level of a security threat that kind of scares me,” James admitted honestly to the person he knew he could trust more than anything. “It would make me feel a lot better if I knew there was someone there looking out for Rosie and making sure she’s alright and so I’m wondering if you’d be willing to be her pilot and on the security team for her during this tour.” 

Hearing this struck a pang of fear in him, feeling like every bit of this was out of place for him. He was an Air Force captain, not someone who was prepared to do any of this. He rubbed a hand along his short beard, muttering, “Shit, I don’t know about this. I’m not trained for that and I’m not sure I’m the most qualified to be doing that for the Princess of Ellington.” 

“It’s not like you’d be alone, there’s going to be the most highly trained people in the country and you’d go through a training before the tour. Also, because of what you’d be doing, it’d be double the salary you’re making now," he tried to convince him but with just the mention of a pay bump, Chris instantly felt more intrigued. For years he’d been sending most of his paychecks to his mother to help take care of her and lift some weight off her shoulders, but he knew a bump in pay would not only help him get ahead on some things of his own but fix up some of the things his mother’s home had been needing. Chris was busy making a mental list of all he could do with that when James added, “This isn’t something you have to say yes to, it’s not an order from the prince, it’s just a favor for a friend.” 

With a laugh and a wave of his hand, Chris rolled his eyes playfully, “You had to fucking go there, pulling the friend card!” 

“Well I know the prince asking you to do it wouldn’t be enough to pull you away from active duty,” James said through a laugh, knowing it was completely true but also that Chris was just about as loyal as they came and that he could rely on him for just about anything. 

“I am going to be a little pissed at you for that," he emphasized playfully with a point of his finger.

A smirk gave away James’ feelings before he asked, “Does that mean you’re going to say yes?” 

“Only because it’ll keep me busy enough that I won’t have to watch my best friend turning into a spoiled ass now that’s back to being a prince,” Chris snorted. 

That response got a good laugh out of his best friend before a genuine smile crossed his lips and he admitted, “Seriously, thank you Chris. This means a lot to me.” 

Unable to keep the teasing smile from his lips, he joked with a nudge to James’ knee, “Remember that when you sign my check.”

And with just that one conversation, Chris got swept into a whirlwind he wasn’t quite prepared for over the course of the next month. Being pulled from the Air Force had been tough enough, but having to sit through meeting after meeting about all of his responsibilities, safety protocols, and royal decorum and he felt like he couldn’t quite keep his head straight. There was no part of him that wanted to be doing this. Everything in him yearned for his unit and to be up in his fighter jet, following the duty for his country, but he knew that this duty was just as important. 

Thinking back to when they’d first met, Chris wished he could tell his younger, scared, and intimidated self just how much James would quickly become like a brother more than anything to him over the years. Sure, he had been there for James, and he’d helped give James a sense of normalcy amongst prying eyes and intense attention, but the prince had been there for him just as much. Growing up with a single mother and tight finances had been difficult and without anyone else to rely on, Chris had felt the full weight of that. He had grown up well before his time, having to worry and bear the responsibility of more than his age normally would demand, and a way he knew James struggled to fully understand. Because of this, he knew there was a bit of an emotional wall that he’d put up, trying to always push away his vulnerable emotions to do what needed to be done, but James had been the first friend he could really be open with. 

His best friend had proved to be such a loyal friend through and through, always being there to support him and able to pull out his real feelings in a way Chris didn’t even completely understand. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for James, and if it meant doing this, he decided he’d be able to handle it for a couple months. With his days being so packed full and being hours away from where he grew up, he hadn’t been able to see his mother for weeks but with only a few days before he set off on the tour, he carved out a time to drive toward the familiar terrain.

Chris recognized the sound of the rhythmic bumping of the car tires over the many potholes on the street as he slowed down to park in front of the old building. He climbed out and locked the car before starting to walk toward the building but seemed to linger on the sidewalk for a moment, his blue eyes just taking in the sight in front of him. 

He knew the house he had grown up in wasn’t much to look at, sandwiched in the cramped neighborhood and right on the street. He knew how many times he had fixed the leaking faucet, had to install new windows a couple winters ago when the frames had rotted on the old ones, and how you could feel the vibrations of the cars driving by when you laid in bed. The house wasn’t pretty. Or new. Or spacious. But this house would always hold a special place in his heart thanks to the woman that lived inside. 

Growing up with a single mother hadn’t always been the easiest life, remembering the many times as a teenager he’d close that black iron gate behind him late at night after working a job after school to help buy them groceries or make rent. He certainly had never gone without food or a roof over his head but things weren’t easy for them and he had seen just how tirelessly his loving mother worked to make sure he was taken care of. He remembered her saving up to buy a sewing machine, making it easier for her to be able to make their own clothes and fix any holes or tears that happened to existing ones, allowing them to get every bit of use out of everything they had. She was often up late clipping coupons or baking pies to sell to help bring in some extra money, all while still giving Chris all the love and nurturing in the world.

Chris leaned against that gate, just gazing at the house and remembering when he had gotten a scholarship to university and that deep drive and determination he had to make sure not one bit of it was wasted. That grit proved to be useful when his mother started developing some sharp pain in her back and knees, preventing her from keeping up the grueling work she had been doing and Chris stepped in to take care of her, sending most of his check from the Royal Air Force home to care for her, only keeping enough for himself to rent a tiny apartment and whatever else he needed for basic necessities. 

There hadn’t been one moment of hesitation for him, wanting to do anything he could for the woman he loved more than anything and could still to this day put him in his place in the way only she could. She had always been there cheering him on, encouraging him, and loving him wholeheartedly with that same smile she had on her face now as she opened the teal door. 

Her silvery gray hair was falling around her kind face, that sweet smile on her lips as she held her arms open, “Well don’t just stand there looking at the dead landscaping, come over and give me a hug!” 

“Hey Ma," he smiled, walking over to wrap his arms around her short frame, feeling warm from the inside out as he genuinely said, “It’s so good to see you.” 

“It’s always a good day when I get to see you," she said with a hand rubbing his back before ushering him into the warm house, motioning around the kitchen as she started looking through cabinets, “What can I get you, honey? Coffee? Some cake?” 

Chris was watching her through an inquisitive eye, seeing something she hadn’t admitted and spoke up, “Ma, you need to sit down. I can see you’re still favoring that knee.” She turned around, tucking her gray hair behind her ear before averting his gaze as she turned her back to dish him up a piece of what she knew to be his favorite cake as he questioned, “I thought you said it was getting better?” 

“It is, just slowly," she shrugged, pouring him a glass of milk and without even looking up, shot back at him,“Don’t give me that look, Christopher.” 

But Chris just laughed from where he sat at the worn wooden table and tossed his hands in the air, “I will if you keep refusing to take care of yourself!” 

Margaret put down the piece of cake that he knew she made just for him, down on the table before patting his shoulder as she sat down in her own chair, “You just worry about me too much.” 

“I’m afraid of what other shit you’re going to be feeding me while I’m away on this tour. Before I know it I’m probably going to find out you’re out dancing every night while I’m away,” he teased her easily before taking a bite of the cake he loved so much. 

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll keep on resting my knee like the doctor said,” she waved him off, being just as stubborn as he knew he could be before changing the subject, “Are you officially done with all your training for the tour?” 

A deep sigh escaped Chris as he leaned back in the creaky chair. “Yeah I finished yesterday, although I don’t feel like it’s enough,” he admitted, his voice sounding befuddled even to himself. His hand twitched on the worn table, well-loved with everything from rings from glasses to paint from his youth and a frown on Chris’ face as his eyes bore into streaks of red paint. “I mean, I’m not the head of security, I’m mostly just the princess’ pilot and then will be the one escorting her to events but she’ll have a whole security team.” 

But Margaret’s eyes never left her son’s face, her brow raising sharply. Her voice, however, was kind and curious as always as she mused, “That seems unusual that the pilot would be doing that.” 

He shrugged helplessly. “I think it is, but I think it’s more James wanting someone he trusts with his sister,” he agreed, then added, “He made it sound like she’s maybe having a hard time with all of this so I think it’s maybe his way of making it easier or something like that. It’s obviously not really my first choice but I’ll do anything for James.” 

“And I know he appreciates it,” she agreed honestly, and the twinkle in her eyes made Chris think about the many times Chris had caught rides from James and his security back home from university. He remembered the way the sleek cars would draw curious eyes on the streets, but no one ever spared a second glance when they saw Prince James dart out of the car to always give Margaret a hug before heading off to the palace. 

“He probably just wants to earn points with you for getting me off of active duty,” Chris chuckled with a smirk.

“James already knows he’s my adopted son, he doesn’t have to earn any more points,” Margaret told him amusedly before she sat up a bit in her chair, her face twitching momentarily as her knee shifted below the table. “Although I do like him getting you off of active duty. You know how much I hate that.” 

Chris' lips twitched, curling into an instinctive smile as her overprotectiveness shone through. He knew she struggled with his choice to enlist after university - being the only family the other had, the only one that looked out for the other -  but it’d always made sense for him. It was a safe career path, one that provided a lot of opportunity to see places he’d otherwise never get to see, one that was all but guaranteed to keep him and also pay for the remainder of the university tuition fees that his scholarships didn’t cover. And James being there too? He couldn’t say that wasn’t a factor, getting to spend a few more years with his brother at his side before he inevitably became King, but it helped. 

However, he knew his Ma disagreed, fretting about everything from his safety abroad to on the very planes that the royal family even approved of for their heir. But those fears were admittedly easy to shake off as his heads hit the clouds, leaving his worries behind back in his bedroom by the phone each day after he hung up his calls with her. “Well I don’t know that being on the security team for the princess of the country is a whole lot safer,” he pointed out quietly. 

But Margaret simply chose to ignore the issue, something they’d both grown to do, instead asking, “Have you met Princess Rosalie yet? Is she just as beautiful in person as she is in the papers?” 

He couldn’t help the loud laugh that burst out of him at those words, taken aback. “Ma!” He admonished, but he couldn’t stop the laughter that continued to echo throughout the tiny room. 

“I’m just asking,” she shrugged, her eyes twinkling as she listened to him. 

He shook his head, eyes dropping back down to the splattered paint on the table. His hand moved and he began scratching it lightly with his nail, despite knowing it was no use. At this point, it’d been on the table for at least twenty-five years, it wasn’t going anywhere unless the table did as well. “Well I only met her like four years ago for a few minutes. Later this afternoon I’m going back to the palace to see James and he said he wanted to introduce me to Rosie.” 

But the look in Margaret’s eyes became a mix of surprise, amusement, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on at his admission, and he found himself looking away from her gaze as she asked, “Oh so you haven’t even really met her and it’s already Rosie now?” 

“I’m starting to think it’s a good thing I’m leaving for two months if you’re going to be stirring up trouble like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he gave up on removing the paint. 

Margaret grew quiet for a few moments, eyes shining as she watched her only son. Chris' heart panged at the way she quickly moved her hand to disguise the few tears that escaped her eyes. “I’m so happy for you but I sure am going to miss you,” she told him, her voice soft and quiet. “I just love you so much.” 

A soft sigh escaped Chris’ lips as he thought about the reality of the situation and vulnerably admitted,  “I know, I love you too Ma and I’m going to miss you. This isn’t even really what I want to be doing but it’s a favor for James and I’m going to be making double my salary so that’s hard to say no to.” 

“Well it’ll only be a couple months and then you can go back to the Air Force," she nodded, trying to brighten his spirits as well as reminding herself of when she’d see him next. 

A genuine smile crossed his lips as he told her, “I’m already looking forward to that.” 

Rosie stared at the books in front of her for several long moments before she reached both hands out, quickly pulling a few off the overstuffed and well-used bookshelf. Despite the longing desire to do nothing but sit in the plush armchair next to the grand bay window, Rosie begrudgingly and precariously packed the books in the bag sitting on her bed. She missed the short knock and creak of the door opening and closing in her haste to pack, knowing how much preparation there was still to do over the next several hours. Final fittings, final itinerary plans, and final interviews with a few Ellington-based outlets for pre-planned articles to come out throughout tour, showing “the strength and resilience of the royal family, even in the trying times they were in” she thought, reminding herself of the Communications Secretary, Edward Henry’s, words. 

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head at that memory when a soft “Ahem,” broke her train of thought, making her jump slightly as she turned to find her mother standing by the door to her bedroom. After a quick, routine curtsy to the Queen, her mother made her way to the sun-drenched arm chair, sitting perfectly on the overstuffed, well-loved chair, facing Rosie with an arched brow. 

“Are you packing?” She asked her eldest daughter, a hint of amusement in her voice. 

Rosie nodded, turning her back to her mother and she grabbed the last of the prepared items off her nightstand, delicately placing them in the bag. “Yeah, I’m almost done,” she informed her. 

Her mother was quiet for a moment and as Rosie snuck a glance over her shoulder to Genevieve, she saw the mix of amusement and curiosity on her face. “You didn’t have Claire do it for you?” She questioned. 

She simply shrugged. “She got all my basics but since I’ll be gone for two months I wanted to make sure I had some of the things I wanted,” she explained, and it was true - Claire had packed more clothes than Rosie had time to wear on tour, for everything from galas with dignitaries to visiting local youth sports programs to the very slight downtime she may have during her days. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t want her favorite pair of slippers, hair brush, hair masks, or even her comfiest shirt to sleep in - the well-worn one she’d gotten early on at university. 

A silence hung in the room for several moments as Rosie left the bag on her bed, knowing either Claire or one of the other aides would close up the bag when they fetched it later. She turned to her mother, arms crossed over her chest, both of them unsure what to say. The conversation didn’t feel strained, however, her relationship with her mother was well beyond the point of being uncomfortable after a lifetime of this. Of feeling that they never quite fit together the way her university friends seemed to with their mothers, having had a lifetime of caregiving to connect. 

Instead, Rosie had never felt connected to her in any warm and fuzzy way. She and Annie had been kept at an arm’s distance from both of their parents through their childhood, and James had only been closer to prepare him for his future. Otherwise, the children were pawned off to nannies, teachers, and - eventually - to their respective boarding schools, with only the occasional letters or calls home. 

“It’ll be nice and warm on the coast when you go. All of those beaches are so beautiful,” the Queen pointed out, and Rosie furrowed her brows a bit at those words but quickly schooled her expression. 

“I’ve seen the schedule and I don’t think I'll hardly have time to breathe let alone go to the beach.” 

Genevieve’s face faltered for a moment, her posture falling before straightening. “I’m sorry Rosalie…” she trailed off, her voice meek.  “I’m mostly sorry you have to go on this tour at all.” 

But Rosie shook her head, pushing herself forwards from where she’d been leaning on the footboard of her bed. “It’s fine,” she deflected, running a hand through her long hair, pausing momentarily before pointing out, “Dad and James overrule everyone, but that’s nothing new.” 

Her mother’s frown deepened but a short knock at the door interrupted them. Rosie looked at her mother, watching as she called for them to enter. But to her surprise, the Palace staffer was there not for her mother, but for herself, informing her that Prince James was waiting for her down in the garden. 

With an awkward goodbye to her mother, she left the room, the staffer trailing behind her along with a member of the security team as she made her way down various stairways, through historic hallways. As she made her way out to the gardens of the Palace, she found her brother waiting for her on a bench in front of dancing fountains, sitting in the sun. 

They chatted briefly - James telling Rosie about his upcoming meetings with the Prime Minister, what he’d heard about the latest elections globally, and even that Annie’s university field hockey team had won their latest game. 

It was simply passive small talk, serving only to try to break the ice and quell the tension between the siblings as they started to walk the gravel pathways through the garden, as James finally asked her, “Do you remember when you met Chris before? A few years ago?” 

“Should I?” She asked, hardly able to remember much beyond the memorable meetings or the regular contacts she had outside of the Palace - those she spoke to often at her favorite charities, the nurses she regularly saw during visits to the hospital, and some of the more lively members of the public she’d met.  

A sideways grin appeared on James’ face as he told her, “Not really, he’s only been my best friend for the past eight years.” 

She gave him a sideways glare, thankful she’d worn flats as she stepped through the gravel. “Is that the real reason you want him on this tour? So you can spy on me?” She asked, her voice unamused. 

“Maybe,” he said, his voice serious for a moment until she elbowed his side, making him laugh and hold his hands up placatingly before telling her, “I’m kidding, I want him there because I trust him more than anyone and I think he’ll make it easier for you.” 

She dropped her eyes to the gravel, staring at the rocks with every passing step as her voice quietly admitted, “I don’t know that there’s a lot that’ll make it better.” 

“Trust me, Chris will,” James promised her, and a familiar, comforting grin appeared on his face as he continued, “We roomed together all four years at uni, did all of our basic training together and were in the same unit so trust me when I say that once you guys warm up to each other, you’ll love him, he’s great.” 

Although James kept talking about some memories over the years with Chris, Rosie couldn’t seem to concentrate on his words and found her mind wandering. She knew that James was just trying to help but she just felt like there wouldn’t be anything that would make this tour easier, and in fact having to get used to someone new seemed harder for her. 

She tried to follow along as James laughed and recalled various adventures and misadventures the pair had gotten into over the years, but it did nothing to quell her growing anxieties as they slowly made their way from the gardens back towards the Palace, where a tall, lean figure came out of the doors and made their way over to them. 

Having met literally thousands of people over the years Rosie had become very intuitive at reading people. It was easy for her to spy the nervousness in the tense and rigid appearance of his body. She glanced at his hands that were fidgeting inside his pockets, pulling them out before shoving them back in again as he walked closer to the siblings. 

As his tall frame came to stop in front of her, she felt a little bit relaxed at the kindness that was evident in his eyes while his low voice greeted her with a bow, “Princess Rosalie, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

When he stood back up, she saw the polite smile across his lips. It was obvious that the smile was a little tense and didn’t quite reach his eyes, keeping it from being fully genuine but even still, Rosie couldn’t help but feel just how effortlessly charming it was and suddenly she found herself searching her brain for just how she could have forgotten having met him. 

She reached out her perfectly manicured hand to take his, shaking it with the many layers of manners she had learned over the years and replied, “Nice to see you as well. Thank you for joining the tour.” 

“It’s an honor," his blue eyes arched kindly while their hands disconnected. 

“I’m glad you both are going to be together,” James couldn’t help but chime in before reaching over to give Chris a hearty pat on the back as he informed her, “Rosie, this guy is the best pilot I’ve ever seen. I swear he spends more time pouring over his plane than he does anything else.” 

Rosie intently watched while the captain’s eyebrow rose, a jovial smirk dancing across his lips while he retorted, “Can you blame me when you’re the one I had to hang out with?” 

“Hey you shouldn’t be making fun of me, I got you a pretty good gig for the next two months,” James argued with his hands held in defense. 

Hearing his words made all of the feelings that were so near the surface come bubbling over as she muttered quietly, “I’m not so sure you did.” 

It didn’t seem as if either of the men heard her, or if they did, both chose to ignore her as she was so often used to before Chris nodded politely at her and said, “I’m looking forward to being in your service, princess.” 

With a surface smile, she easily replied, “Thank you, Captain. We’re honored to have you.”

After Rosie politely shook his hand and Chris bowed, she excused herself to head back into the palace to attend to the laundry list of things that were still left to do as the sound of the two men’s laughter echoed behind her. It was obvious to her that James had connected deeply to Chris and she honestly was so happy that they had. Rosie wanted James to have someone that he trusted and was so close to, knowing in their life how nearly impossible that felt, but at the same time she just wished that James could understand that was the exact reason that she didn’t want Chris. 

At this time Rosie was supposed to have a break from the duties she had been thrown into the past four years in James’ absence. She finally was going to be able to step back but that was long gone now. The past few weeks she had come to accept it and knew she didn’t have a choice, but she had hoped that she would be able to bring more of the staff she felt comfortable with, someone to make her feel like she had a friend when she so often felt utterly and completely alone. But she knew that what James or her father said went no matter what. The best she could do was just hope these next two months would go by as quickly as possible.

A/N: Thank you for your patience as we tried to write some more before posting! We are so so excited to share this story and hope you are enjoying it as well.

[wingsmadeforflying]

Some Pads and cat Reg ft Smol James as a treat

Reg is grumpy and fluffy, Pads is takin a lil snooze

[tragedybunny]

Something Like Love - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has failed to seduce you, but even so, a bond has begun to grow between the two of you. It all comes to a head when Astarion almost loses you.

You infuriated Astarion. At first it was because stopping to help every person you happened upon was delaying dealing with his problems. Now that you had been traveling together for some time, not only were these little side adventures a delay, but you didn’t seem to be careful about how much they took out of you and how tired they left you. Even your other companions didn’t seem to care, letting you agree to solve every problem that you came upon and even adding to the pile.

But not him. Astarion was always right there at your side with a glare and a snapping refusal, which you’d usually brush off, but at least he tried. The rest of them just smiled and nodded, without noticing the circles under your eyes, or how slow you moved some mornings, or how thin you’d gotten. Protector wasn’t a position he normally found himself in, but you were different, you were kind to him, without expecting anything in return, as far as he could tell anyway. The two of you hadn’t even slept together, not for lack of trying on his part. The couple times he’d tried you firmly refused, and yet somehow you stayed kind to him, even still offering him your blood. In fact you didn’t seem to want anyone in camp. That was also exasperating. How could he expect your continued kindness, and protection which he desperately needed, without repayment? And what was he better at than sex?

So he resolved he’d give you whatever small gestures he could. Whenever you tore an item of clothing, he’d mend it at first chance. When the group made camp for the night, he always made sure your tent was up first, in whatever spot you wanted, and helped you pack when it was time to move on. Every battle, he stood at the backline with you while you cast spells, aiming arrows at anyone who got too close to you, his first priority keeping you safe. And he still tried to keep you from overextending yourself, despite no one ever listening to him. Which had led to the shouting match with Halsin earlier. Well it wasn’t really a shouting match, the Druid had remained frustratingly placid in the face of Astarion’s blustering. He’d already been vocally unhappy about looking for this Thaniel or whatever, but you’d found him, and still Halsin asked more. “We need to worry about Thorm, we don’t have time to keep bothering with this!”

“Curing the land could help break Thorm’s hold. I know you all don’t owe it to me.” Gods why did he ask like that, all humble and dissembling. You would cave to that for sure,

“You’re right, we don’t.”

“But…”

“Hells, can’t you see how much all of this is taking out of her!” Astarion had exploded, voice loud enough that some of your other companions jumped.

“It’s fine Astarion,” you’d gently placed a hand on his arm, “let’s finish this.”

With a frustrated growl, he’d yanked his arm away, regretting the hurt on your face. “Fine.”

That all led to this moment, you’d fended off the creatures summoned by the corrupted spirit, and Astarion watches as you calmly approach it. Speaking softly, your words soothe it, and he could see it starting to trust you. As always, you amaze him with your ability to solve things with your words, but he feels a twinge of something else, a want for something like those kind words that fell from your lips so easily. The spirit vanishes and Astarion finally feels a bit of relief it seems over. That is until your knees give way and you collapse to the jagged paving stones beneath you.

He's at your side instantly, a scream tearing itself from his throat. “Somebody fucking help her.”

Shadowheart js the first to respond, hands peeling away the light armor you wear, revealing gashes left by one of those shadow creatures that had gotten close. Teeth bite down into his lip to hold back a sob, he hadn’t even noticed, he’d failed the one duty he had. That ire finds a new target easy enough though, as Halsin attempts to join Shadowheart in tending to you. He’s barely started to kneel next to you when Astarion lunges, hissing and fangs flashing. “No you stay the fuck away from her, this is your fault!” For a second his face falls with guilt, but Astarion is in no state for empathy, all blame now on the Druid in his mind.

Hands fight to grab hold of him, to get close enough to tear his thick throat out. A pair of strong arms wraps around his waist, pulling him back from his murderous goal. “Easy Fangs, she’ll be alright,” Karlach tries to reassure him.

He struggles against her iron hold, still flinging curses and furious words. “That’s not the point, this shouldn’t have happened. But no one wanted to listen to me, none of you selfish idiots care when you’re asking too much!”

That was it, they’d all turn on him now, especially without you aware enough to defend him. To his surprise, Karlach just holds him slightly tighter, and keeps whispering that it was going to be fine. Wyll comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder, face stoic. "Shadowheart has this.”

At least Halsin has stepped back, expression troubled. Good, let him suffer. A spell glows in Shadowheart’s hands, suturing back together your skin, and your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, for a moment before closing again. Karlach wisely releases him, leaving him free to hover over you and ward off Halsin as he takes a hesitant step toward you. He’d be damned if anyone else was carrying you, the lot of them were untrustworthy. Reverently, he leans down, taking you in his arms, and lifting you from the ground. Gods, you were so small, there was almost nothing to you. How did you seem so imposing most of the time?

Silently, the group makes it’s way back to camp, Astarion holding tightly to you the whole way. When they reach the cluster of tents, he goes straight to yours to lay you down gently in your blankets. Turning back to the rest of the party he snarls in their direction. "All of you better stay the hells out of this tent until she's properly healed," he snaps the tent flap shut and wishes he had a door to slam on their faces.

Sitting down next to you, he pulls your hand into his and tried to forget about the stinging in his eyes. "You're going to be alright Darling. You have to be."

For hours he sits there, hand holding yours, waiting, watching your chest rise and fall, the reassurance he hadn’t lost you. Losing you, he can’t even fathom it. His protector, companion, he'd even go so far as to say friend. Even if you didn't notice how he was always at your side whenever you stayed up to launder your clothes, or how you never took a turn to cook alone, or how he was always walking right next to you on the road.

You sigh in your sleep and he feels a tug in that place that sometimes wonders if you could be more than friends. Which was stupid, you hadn't even wanted sex with him. Besides, what you already gave him was more than he deserved considering what he had been planning after sleeping with you.

Finally, exhausted, he drifts into meditation, still holding onto you, until your sleep heavy voice pulls him out of it. "Astarion?"

His eyes are wide immediately and without a second thought, he throws himself into your arms, nuzzling into your neck. "You're awake." Then he starts crying like an idiot; ugly, undignified sobs against your skin. "I was worried," he tries to explain leaping on you and his ridiculous tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." You put your arms around him, accepting him without question, like always.

"You silly, silly girl, you were the one that almost died. Don't apologize to me." He's trying desperately to stop bawling uncontrollably.

"I know, but I don't like to see you upset." Ever so lightly, he can feel your hand brushing through his hair.

"Why," he's managed to get himself somewhat under control, but doesn't move from where you've let him lay. "Why are you like this? Always giving, even when it's too much for you?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Because I care about you."

"You do," he asks, unwilling to let himself believe what he's heard.

"Well, I care about everyone," of course he should've realized, "but I care about you a very great deal, Astarion."

Astarion freezes, the words leaving warmth in that secret place inside that he's been trying to keep from himself and you. "I don't understand."

"I see you. I see how hard you try and how far you've come, and how much you try to do for me." There's a smile in your voice and impossibly he thinks it has something to do with him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" His hand searches yours out and your fingers interwine.

"I didn't think you were ready to hear it. But today it was almost too late to tell you." You've placed both of your hands over your chest and he can feel your heartbeat.

"I…I don't know how I feel." Inwardly, he quails, worried that will drive you. "But this is nice."

"It's alright Astarion, there's no rush to this." Impulsively, he leans up to leave a feather light kiss on your cheek, grateful for you in ways he can't understand.

[holy-amelie]

'You fell first but...' sfw (Sunday)

...he fell harder ˎˊ˗

·.༄࿔ characters: Sunday, you

·.༄࿔ pairing: Sunday x g/n!AE!reader

·.༄࿔ cw: no tw, fluff and hurt/comfort, non-native english author, written before 2.7, but contains spoilers/leaks, be careful! Can be ooc but this is how I see him at the moment. You are from the Astral Express here.

·.༄࿔ a/n: still need to remember how to write things properly qwq

You fell first, that's for sure.

It's even funny how quickly this young and charming Halovian found his way into your heart. It only took a polite smile at the first meeting to ignite this new, funny feeling deep inside your chest.

It seems there was a real reason people on Penacony spoke of him as the most eligible bachelor in this part of the universe.

Soft, calm, as if glowing from within. No wonder you were the one who got closest to him during the investigation. There was something special about Sunday that only attracted you more, beckoned you like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the fact that you wanted to destroy his perfect shell, or the fact that you already saw through him.

All his little nervous habits, his quiet and a bit awkward chuckles, the way he pressed his lips together when he was unhappy with something, just to hide it all behind the facade of an all-forgiving and all-understanding host. And the way his eyes were sparkling when he was passionately talking about something important.

You saw glimpses of Sunday, not the head of the clan.

Of course, it's foolish to fall in love at first sight with someone you've just met and barely know. But you can't help your heart. Especially when his image doesn't leave your head for a minute and fills all your thoughts.

And, yes, it was even more foolish to expect him to suddenly fall in love with you in return. As the head of the clan, Sunday was always busy with more important things (even more important than it might seem at first glance). So all you had to do was quietly carry the burden of these irrational feelings inside you.

Did it get easier when Sunday revealed all his plans? No. Some things you did not agree with, some things you could understand yourself. Was it easier when he lost? Once again, no.

You seemed to be the only person from the Express willing to run after him no matter what. And you would have if Robin hadn't beaten you to it.

But... he fell harder.

For Sunday, life ended after he lost and lost everything: his position, his home, his sister.

Life is a rather ironic thing, so when he suddenly found himself on the Express, broken and lost, it felt like a cruel mockery. The people who were against him suddenly gave him a place he could consider his new home. Even if temporarily.

Among the entire crew, you remained the only person who didn't look at him with suspicion or even a kind of apprehension. Not at all. It was you and your unexpected concern for his well-being that helped him rise from the very bottom of existence.

Sunday was emotionally naked before you. He was choking back tears and begging for forgiveness, even though you had long since forgiven him. The once strong and reserved leader suddenly showed his true self - mentally tired, exhausted, so desperate for warmth.

That's when he finally realized that he craved your attention more and more. Sunday was willing to be alone with you for the rest of his life if it meant that all of his problems would finally fade into the background. He continued to live not only for the fulfillment of his and his sister's dreams, but also for you.

Aons, Sunday was willing to give up everything as long as your gentle presence continued to take away all his pain, to fill his hear with love and warmth, giving him new purpose.

No wonder your innocent and shy love finally started something new in the end.

Including his new life.

please, do not rewrite/copy/repost/translate my work without me knowing, you can always ask first, thanks

[ellaa-writes]

The Beast Withiń

author note: Part 2. Part 1 here I rewrote this so many times. Some of them didn't end up saving but I like how this turned out. Not sure how long the series will be but going with the flow for now. Reminder this is an Alternative Universe to the cod franchise. Alpha König headcanon found here. masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: a lot of angst in this one. brief mentions of death. Cocky König. König asking for consent (he's trying). Mention of psychical violence. Mention of rape but not to reader or by König. Slow burn, still no smut yet but I promise it is coming. World building, relationship establishing. König is a crime boss/war criminal. I think that's all, enjoy! :)

Konig squeezed himself on your small livingroom chair. His knees well above his hips, his arms clamped to his sides. If this were any other circumstance you would have laughed at the sight. But right now you were pissed, no not pissed furious. Your fist clenching and unclenching, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood. You stomped your foot and pointed at the giant in the too small of chair.

“How dare you!” you yelled at him.” You son of a bitch!” you continued to yell. König didn’t take well of you calling his Mütter a bitch, rest in piece her soul he thought. All he did was raise his shoulders and roll his neck. This chair wasn’t comfortable at all and he’ll be paying the price for it. You could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously. His dumb smug face and his eyes blinking at you with indifference. You wanted to smack him, no you were going to smack him. You walked right up to him, nearly eye level with the sitting giant. You raised your hand and swung it through the air. Waiting for the stinging impact but it never came, instead König own hand wrapped around your wrist. Squeezing just enough to feel the grind of bone on bone, just enough to leave a slight bruise that’ll be healed with in an hour. His fingers thick around your arm, he brought your hand to his mouth and gave it a small kiss. You yanked it back with disgust, turning away from him as he rose from the chair. His hips clicking a bit from the uncomfortable position. “Have you calmed down?” he asked. Brushing off your temper, your sweet scent had turned sour and he did not like it. But seeing you stomping around trying to act tough, he thought it was cute. It might even had turned him on if you hadn't tried to hit him.“You must be hungry” he proclaimed as he walked past you and into your small dingy kitchen. The light above the stove has burnt out the first week you moved in and you never bothered to replace it. It still buzzed every time you turned the switch on. König poked his head under the hood and yanked the bulb out, tossing it in your over flowing garbage bin. You scoffed at his response, yes what a smug asshole you thought. But you also became self conscious of how you apartment looked right now. Sure you haven’t cleaned up in a few days but you planned on doing a deep clean during your heat. Fuck, you almost forgot about your heat. It should be here in a few days, but now that you’ve been claimed and marked you didn’t know how that was going to play out. Still fumming, the only thing missing was the steam coming out of your ears.

König began rummaging through your cupboards, opening and closing the doors. Trying to find something he could feed you, giving up and moving to your fridge. He was shocked to find leftover take out containers and cheap premade food. Unhappy with his choices he gave up all together, bringing out his phone and typing away his orders. First he wants a car dropped off in front of your house, having ran to your apartment. He also ordered for plenty of food to be stocked at his place. Tons of fruit and vegetables and he couldn't forget protein. He knew your heat was only a day away, having smelt it at the night club. You were staring at him while he did all of this. “Get out.” you told him. He still completely ignoring you until he put his phone away. You still smelled sour, your anger hadn’t resided. “Are you not going to say anything?” you were going mad. “About what?” he finally spoke. Leaning against your counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps and pectoral muscles bulging out from the tight long sleeve dress shirt he had on. This was the first time you actually got a good look at him. He had a scar running from his top lip up to his nostril, a childbirth defect he’s lived with his whole life. His hair was cut short, buzzed to the scalp a mixture of light blonde and grey hair. He was scruffy, sporting a five o’clock shadow the same coloring as his shaved head. His eyes were deep set, dark but bright at the same time. “Done checking me out omega?” he asked, his cocky attitude coming to the surface again. He smirked at you as a flush began rising from your chest and across your face. That’s it your going to slap that smug smirk off his face. Moving fast across the kitchen you reached up high, your hand connecting across König face. The loud crack and sting followed shortly after. Once again König grabbed you wrist in his bruising grip. Shoving you back against the opposite counter. He towered over you, completely trapping you in. “Get the hell out of my house.” you whispered. König's grip on you loosened a bit, but he still held you to his chest. Cradling you like a father would a wounded child. Running his hand through your hair, a low purr coming from his chest. The only time König ever purred was for his mother when she was sad. It’s been years since that moment, and honestly he didn’t believe he’d ever hear it again.

The adrenaline pumping through your body began to chip away, your shoulders sagged and your knees buckled but König held you in place. All the emotions running through your veins, you wanted to cry, scream and beat him bloody. But you couldn’t, you just wanted to be held. The dam holding back your tears finally broke and you began sobbing. Not caring that you are soaking the front of his shirt. Your new reality finally sinking in, the fear of what this Alphas intentions are. Your mother told you horror stories about groups of Alphas taking one female omega at a time. Raping her over and over again until she gave them enough pups to satisfy them. It scared you senseless as a child and still scares you now. You enjoyed the freedom you had, sure it wasn’t luxurious but it was yours none the less. “It’s ok omega, everything will be alright.” König tried to soothe your worries. Noticing the shift in your scent again, instead of the sourness from your anger it is now bitter, biting and snapping at him. “Stop calling me that.” you sobbed. Sniffling and wiping your nose on the back of your hand. You pulled away from the Alpha, suddenly feeling very vulnerable like you were a sheep waiting to be slaughtered. How could this have happened you thought while walking to your couch and throwing yourself down. Still only in the shirt König managed to put on you and the same panties from last night. Not caring if he sees anything, not like he didn’t before. You curled yourself into a ball, letting your emotions take control while you crawled back into your mind, into the darkest corner you could find. Everything you worked for, the years of masking your scent and blocking your hormones. Poof, gone in a second and the man responsible is now looking at you like a sad puppy.

You stayed in that position for what felt like hours but it was only a couple of minutes. König left you in your spot and went to your bedroom. Finding two small suitcases in your closet. Stuffing them with whatever he thought would be importance. His phone dinged, he went to the window facing the street. The car he ordered was parked neat in front of your apartment. He turned his focus back to your bedroom. He knew he couldn't fit everything in the car, not now anyways. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted most of this stuff at his place. His eyes lingered on your bed spread, you'd need something fimilar to nest with. Yanking them off and into a ball, König began moving stuff from your apartment to the car. You still hadn't moved an inch from your spot, only coming to when your tummy began protesting its hunger. Oh right, you were supposed to go grocery shopping today. To stock up on not only food but other supplies for your upcoming heat. You’ve always done it alone, as a child your mother would lock you in the basement. Lining the windows and doors with fresh lavender and honeysuckle, hoping the sweet scent of the herbs helped mask the scent of a female omega in heat. You heard König call your name, your real name and not omega. You crawled out from the dark corner of your mind, eyes focusing on the alpha that is now squatted in front of you on the couch. “Let me take care of you.” he wasn’t asking he was pleading. He can smell your hurt and see it in your eyes. This place wasn’t safe for you anymore, it never was. He got himself angry earlier thinking about another Alpha or let alone a lowly beta breaking into your apartment and having their way with you. He ignored the fact that he was the one that broke in, but he viewed himself has different. Not letting his cock and lust control him. But he won’t lie, he was very attracted to you. The moment his eyes locked onto your body moving through the crowd. It took him a second to single out your scent among the hundreds of bodies in that club. He was there on business, or he would never be in such a place. He hated crowed and loud spaces, his business partner knowing that chose the location out of spite. That’s why he’s now chopped up and fed to dogs, in his defense it wasn't the only reason. But there was something different about your scent, it was sweet like most females but there was something lingering underneath it. It burned his nostrils and filled his lungs, musky and heady. It was your incoming heat, he couldn’t believe it. An omega.

"I'm scared." you finally admitted. Hugging your arms around yourself, trying to comfort and self soothe. König didn't like any of it, not one bit. "You can trust me omega. I want to only love, cherish and worship you." now it was Königs turn to confess. As a child he dreamed about finding a mate, preferably an omega. To love her and take care of her. Someone to worship and kill for. And right now that someone was you. You took in his words, looking into his eyes. The burning flames swirling around the blue, the rich scent rolling off his body. It's not like you had a choice but you let yourself believe you chose this. You chose him. You nodded your head, which made König smile. It was a genuine smile and not that smug smirk from earlier. Up close he was attractive as hell, finally allowing yourself to feel something other than anger. He had to be at least 200cm tall, weighing as much as a brick house. Thick in all the right places, his shoulders wide and legs strong. "Can I carry you?" he asked. Hesitate to touch you right now, you were so fragile he was scared your crumble in his grip. You nodded your head again, too tired for words and still hungry. A cramp began forming deep in your lower stomach, causing you to gasp a little. It was coming to the surface, spreading out across your lower abdomen and down to your uterus. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Not now, please not now. You begged the holy mother that watched over her children. You felt the slick heat slowly making its way down to your panties. Finally becoming self conscious in what you were wearing in front of the Alpha. König was taken back, the sent of your slick filling the small space. His head began spinning and his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. The beast clamoring to get a taste. But he was in control, shoving the beast down and focusing on the present. Ignoring your sweet and heady scent, König carried you out of your apartment. A few people were up early enough, watching has a giant alpha emerged from the door. Bringing you to the car and setting you down in the back were he shoved your bedding as well. Closing the door behind you has you untwined your fluffy duvet and wrapped it around you body. Burying yourself in the warmth and softness of the materials. König sat in the driver seat, locking the doors and starting the car. Pulling away front he curb and towards his home and now your new home.

[captain-joongz]

Space for two

Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader

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

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

Word count: 25.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then several things happened all almost at once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Close your eyes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wanted. I longed. I needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he just got up and walked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung paused only for a second, eyes searching mine for any kind of hesitation, but I only blushed under his heated gaze, the lust taking over the control of my body and pushing my chest more into his curious hands. He no longer wasted time after that, leaning a bit back and making quick work of the binding and soon he had me sitting in his lap in only my undergarments. My lips found his again, needing to feel his touch more than I needed to breathe oxygen.

With new skin now visible Taehyung seemed to be over the moon, a little content sighs and quiet moans leaving his mouth as his fingers travelled across the expanse of my shoulder blades and my arms. The intensity of the kiss kept increasing, my body confusedly trying to move with the motions and seek even more pleasure. When Taehyung gently bit on my lower lip, my hips jerked forward on their own and I could feel a hardness sliding across my centre. We both gasped, Taehyung’s hands jumping to my hips to stop them, but I felt as if a lighting struck me to my core, pleasure zapping through me on a jolt. I gasped, hips mindlessly chasing after the feeling again. Taehyung separated the kiss on a groan, his head falling to my shoulder, hands now encouraging my hips to move instead of stopping them.

For a moment we just enjoyed each other, mindlessly kissing here, grabbing onto each other and chasing the pleasure, moving against each other. I managed to get Taehyung out of his outer robes too and he was clad only in a thin undershirt that teased a little bit of his collarbones, which I immediately covered in kisses. We didn’t speak and the room was filled with the sounds of shifting clothes and airy little gasps and moans, but I needed more. I needed so much more.

Taehyung’s lips travelled down to the edge of my undergarment, kissing the soft swell teasing my breasts, and I gasped and arched and curved into him, but I could feel the smirk settling on his face as he moved away again. I whined, mind gone and begging for more solid touch, for his hand between my legs and his lips biting into my shoulders.

I pushed onto his shoulders and as Taehyung wasn’t expecting it, he went easily, slight alarm painting his face, but I just grabbed him and pulled his face back to mine. The moment our lips crashed together, I keened, licking into his mouth desperately. The dark-haired man chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on me.

With one hand gently laid on my lower back, he slowly toppled us over until I was lying on the ground with his weight settling gently on top of me, legs tangled and lips intertwined. With a wet smack our lips separated and for a moment we both just looked at each other breathing hard, but then the time and reality caught up to my overheated excited brain and I immediately started tearing at his clothes, untying anything I got my hands on and pushing the fabric away until his whole torso was on display.

I choked on a moan, the desire reigniting within me tenfold. He was beautiful, strong and lean, honey-toned skin blemishless and perfect. Distracted with all the possibilities and my body screaming at me to have the man take me now, take me as soon as possible, my hands wildly flitted over his chest, kneading the skin but not settling anywhere for too long. I decided to pay back the favour and my lips latched onto his neck, making him shudder and moan. I played around lightly, just like he had, kissing anywhere I could, moving south to his pecks and then back up all the way to his ear with wet open-mouthed kisses, revealing just how far gone I was and how needy he made me with his earlier ministrations.

Taehyung buried his face into the crook of my neck, skin rippling with every touch, releasing low groans right into my ear, which made me work even harder. I was ecstatic that I was finally able to touch him too, ecstatic by the prospect of returning the pleasure he had been bestowing me with all these mornings that would have otherwise been cold and lonely.

With that thought in mind, my hands shifted to his hips, at first seemingly just sitting there and holding onto him, but slowly moving downwards, pushing the pants down. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice at first, but once I got low enough to expose the v of his hips and the thicker part of his happy trail, he let out a loud excited groan, body shaking with anticipation.

His lips pressed into my ear. “Do you want to see me? Touch me?” he whispered, voice rough and aroused. I gasped quietly, legs falling open more so that he could settle his hips more comfortably and I could see the moment I finally pushed them low enough, breath held in excitement.

“Yes, please,” I answered in a similarly debauched hushed voice, “please, Taehyung.” His chest rumbled happily, lips busying themselves with biting and kissing into my neck. I must have been absolutely covered with little red and purple bruises and the thought sent a bolt of arousal through me, my body jerking underneath the bigger man.

“Go ahead then, darling,” he said sensually, regaining back a little control. His hips stiffened, allowing me to pull them down the final stretch, releasing his erection. It hit his lower stomach with a tiny noise, the wet tip leaving a little smear of clear liquid there. I clenched on nothing, a gush of wetness suddenly leaving me at the prospect of having him inside of me. He was watching me closely, a wild look on his face, and the more excited I felt, the hungrier he looked.

Then Taehyung pressed his face to mine again, lips caressing the shell of my ear as he whispered: “Do you want it? Do you want my cock, darling?” I nodded, a whimper escaping me, thighs and pussy throbbing with pure burning need. I was so aroused my head was spinning and every thought inside curled around the pleasure this man was providing me with. He clicked his tongue though, and shook his head a little, giving me a playful grin.

“Then you need to say it,” he stated meanly, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Good girls always ask for it.” The way his tongue wrapped around the words good girl made me borderline delirious, back arching and thighs spreading even further, until my hips hurt and I was gasping with the liquid lust coursing through my veins.

“Please!” I whined out again, hands grabbing onto his searing hot skin and attempting to pull him closer, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no, no, darling,” his voice seemed even darker and richer than usual and I was losing my mind on the little rasp, his tongue peeking out to play with the lobe of my ear quickly sending me spinning, “You need to say it.”

“Please, Taehyung,” I choked out, a few tears of frustrated arousal slipping down my cheeks, “I want you.” He smiled, giving me false sense of victory, but still kept his hips away from mine. I whined again, not knowing what else to do.

“I want to hear the words from your mouth, darling,” he stated firmly, “Say ‘Please Taehyung, I want your cock’.” I gasped at his words, the flush on my face deepening despite the lewdness of the situation I already found myself in. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips and Taehyung’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth, fascinated.

“I want your cock,” I whispered, the arousal pushing me into boldness I’ve never displayed before, “Please, Taehyung, I want your cock so bad.” He groaned and I saw the exact moment his pupils expanded with pure lust and his eyes were overtaken by desire to have me. While his lips crashed to mine, his hand grabbed one of mine and pulled it towards his cock and wrapping it around it.

I squeezed on instinct and Taehyung moaned into me, hips bucking gently. I took a moment to feel him out, just gently ran my hands over the ridges and curves. I could feel the way Taehyung trembled, the way his breathing stuttered on tiny, muted groans, his eyes firmly shut. His hands grabbed onto my thighs and dug into them through the underskirt still half covering me from his eyes.

When I began sliding my hand up and down the shaft, Taehyung’s head once again fell to my shoulder, open mouth pressing into my skin and releasing rugged moans. His hips jerked forward in tiny motions, thrusting lightly into my curled hands. I was content with touching him, but my body also screamed for attention, thighs shaking and muscles in my belly contracting in pleasurable little ripples. I was so wet I could feel my essence sliding down my thighs and my bottom, leaving a little puddle on the bedding under us.

I squeezed around him lightly and he jerked into my hands harder, a debauched groan leaving him. I spasmed, pussy pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled up to the brim, an answering moan leaving my own lips. Taehyung looked at me through half-lidded eyes, reason completely overridden by the need to push himself into my tight wet heat at the clear need depicted on my face, he shuddered again, pre-cum leaking out the red tip of his painfully erect cock.

His hands scrambled to grab my skirt and push it up my legs until it pooled around my stomach, wet pussy exposed to his needy hands. He didn’t waste any time and pulled his fingers through my folds, teasing my clit for a moment and punching out desperate moans out of me, whole body spasming at the sudden onslaught of pleasure cursing through me, but then his fingers hurriedly slid down and pushed inside of me. At the feeling of his fingers getting so easily swallowed up by my wet cunt he groaned, thrusting them in a little and scissoring to make sure I was absolutely ready to take a cock, but both of us were beyond gone with desire.

I was enjoying the feeling of finally having something inside of me, but it didn’t last for long. After a few hurried thrusts of his fingers, Taehyung pulled his hand away and I whined, arching my back, pussy chasing after him. He quickly swatted my hands from his length and lowered his hips until we were pressing into each other, his cock snuggly sliding through my wet folds.

Our breaths were knocked out of us on deep satisfied groans. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, coating himself in my juices to ensure easier slide, and then pushed inside with one firm motion, cock driving inside of me without any resistance, filling me absolutely all the way up on the first thrust. I threw my head back, mouth open on a silent scream, the contentment of finally having him inside me lighting my every nerve on fire and satisfying something deep inside of my core. I trembled, desperately holding onto him as my brain turned to mush with barely anything.

Taehyung was having more trouble staying silent, mouth open and instantly pumping out groans and moans, shaky hands keeping my hips still and desperately trying to stop himself from immediately mindlessly driving into the divine pleasure that was the feeling of being enveloped by my wet tight walls.

I whimpered and squirmed underneath him, grabbing onto him. I wasn’t even fully aware of myself, body and mind consumed by the heavenly feeling of being filled by him.

“Please!” I whined out loud, desperately needing him to finally start doing something, like there was an itch deep inside of me that needed scratching, “Please, give me more!”

Taehyung chuckled above me, trying to stay suave and smooth but I could hear how breathless he was, could feel his hands tightening and loosening on my hips. His hips trembled against mine, jumping with excitement at my words.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid back in, making us both sigh with content. He kept the pace slow and deep, covering me with his body and claiming my mouth with his while I fell apart on his well-aimed pace. I moaned on every stroke, arching my hips and spreading my thighs to let him hit deeper, pull him in closer.

The slow build up of the pleasure had me losing my mind. I felt like I was getting gradually submerged into boiling water, the heat steadily rising with every thrust filling me with deep primal satisfaction. My hands roamed over Taehyung’s body, appreciating his smooth skin and muscles as they jumped with movement, soaking up Taehyung’s little hick-uped groans when I passed over sensitive areas.

Taehyung changed the angle a little bit and when he pressed all the way inside, his tip pressed into a spot that had me keening loudly underneath him, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open. My hands instinctively grabbed onto his waist and squeezed, nails digging into his skin, and Taehyung groaned loudly, hips jerking into me roughly, punching out a whiny moan out of me.

That seemed to break us into a frenzy, my hands sliding down his body and grabbing onto his ass, pushing him into me and encouraging his movements. Taehyung happily took the sign and started thrusting faster and harder, filling the room with sounds of our moans and the wet slapping of our hips. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of my mouth, his every stroke hitting deep inside me and lighting my every nerve on fire, stoking the lust and the bliss in pulsing consuming waves.

I felt myself getting close to the peak I was so familiar with from his hands, the sensations drowning me and washing over me in over-powering waves. Taehyung’s moans were reaching crescendo, getting higher and whinier as his hips unfalteringly pounded into me.

“So close, darling,” he croaked with a raspy voice, “going to paint you with my seed, going to fill you to the brim.” I moaned in response, pussy throbbing and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper. I needed us both to peak, I needed it more than air to feel him unwind and release, get consumed with pleasure I provided him with.

“God, just a little more,” I answered to him breathlessly on a pleasured sigh. My hands squeezed his bottom and pushed him a little rougher. His breath hitched, but he changed his pace accordingly, slowing down but snapping his hips into me harder and rougher, making me wail with pleasure.

I felt myself spiralling into the heat, knowing I wouldn’t last too long like this. Above me Taehyung watched me through half-lidded eyes, mouth open and face consumed with raw lust at my blissed-out state. I caught his eyes just seconds before my whole body spasmed and then stilled, climax exploding over me with force that shocked a raspy scream out of me. I blanked out, trembling and overflowing with bliss and ecstasy, legs spasming and toes curling with the sensation of the fire consuming me inside out. It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt, the most intense thing my body has ever gone through, but I loved every second of it. It felt as if all the stress just drained away from my body and was replaced by molten gold.

Taehyung fucked me through the orgasm, and it took him only a few more thrusts before his hips jerked wildly, pleasure mounting until he released deep inside of me with his head thrown back and a long drawn-out moan. I felt his cock throb and pulse inside of me as it spurted his seed, his hips lightly swaying in circles to ride it out, until the boneless weightless feeling set in and he collapsed on top of me.

I was feeling so content, body pleasantly light and thrumming with aftershocks of our shared moment, eyelids heavy with sleep. I felt Taehyung slip out and move away from me, his release running down my legs and making me blush again, but I didn’t have any strength to move or wipe it away, so I just laid there and waited for the man. He returned with a piece of cloth, still just as naked, shooting me a little playful wink when he saw me looking at his body. I turned around, embarrassed, even though we had just enjoyed each other like husband and wife.

I heard his little chuckle, but then the cloth suddenly pressed onto my thighs, making me gasp quietly. Taehyung squeezed my leg in apology and continued cleaning me up. I couldn’t help the little sighs of content leaving me, the warm cloth and his gentle touches filling my heart with love.

When he was done, he threw the piece of cloth away carelessly, before jumping onto the bedding and snuggling up to me. We ended up like we always have, Taehyung holding me from behind, hands pulling me as close to him as I could go, lips and nose pressing into the crook of my neck and into my hair, trilling happily.

I let it gently lull me to sleep, melting into his loving embrace, listening to his content purrs, our bodies moulding perfectly together like it was always meant to happen. I closed my eyes, and welcomed sleep, feeling the most comfortable I’ve been in years.

I couldn’t remember what I was thinking right before I slipped under, but I did with the feeling of just everything being right.

I would be okay. We would be okay.

hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3

A/N: the story of prince cheoyong, the son of the dragon king who neglected his wife to which a demon of pestilence took a liking and sneaked into her bed - one day cheoyong returned home and saw four feet sticking out of the bed instead of two, and he chased out the demon with singing and dancing, saving his wife and becoming a guardian god - it was said that no demon or evil spirit could enter a house as long as there was a likeness of cheoyong there, so people bought his portraits or talismans with his face and put them on their door, but i kind of switched the sides hehe

[spacedace]

Bruce is grateful for the fact that Damian has made friends, he is.

He's happy that his son has met children his own age at school and befriended them. That he is growing from that prickly, unhappy, scarred child he'd first been when he'd come to live with Bruce. That his friends are even normal kids - baring Jon, who is still normal enough despite being the son of Superman and occasionally a super hero himself - with no links to anything strange or dangerous or illegal.

"Oh, sup B."

He just wished that his son's friends were also just a little less...feral.

"Hello Elle."

Elle Nightingale gave him a little wave with the lemon she was holding - or as best as she could considering the space she was working with - and smiled cheekily at him. Bruce felt a headache budding behind his eyes.

"I thought Alfred banned you from the kitchen?" She shifted a bit, nudging a bottle of milk - farm fresh, courtesy of the Kents, passed along via Jon as thanks for looking after him for the weekend. Bruce wished he'd had the foresight to expect that Jonathan Kent staying over for the weekend would mean that Elle, her cousin Billy and their friend BL - the children refused to say the girl’s real name, likely to spite Damian, and thr initials had been a compromise to calling her Box Lunch - would take it as them being permitted to stay over for so long as well. Damian had just given Bruce a an unimpressed look when he'd expressed his surprise at the sudden influx of twelve year olds in his home. As if Bruce was disappointing him at being so foolish as to think his entire pack of hellhounds wouldn't be invading enmass.

"Just getting a snack." He assured her, not wanting her to being the wrath of Alfred down upon his head. The hellions liked doing that, for some reason. "I don't suppose you could tell me what exactly you're doing in my fridge." Bruce tried, looking at the girl curled up in what should have been a deeply uncomfortable position between a few shelves of the large appliance.

Elle grinned. Her canines looked a little too sharp in the odd light of the fridge. Bruce really had to stop thinking of his sons friends as demonic hellions, he was starting to impose impossible features on them when he was sleep deprived.

"We're playing hide and seek." She made direct, unblinking eye contact with him as she brought the whole lemon to her mouth and took a bite out of it like it was an apple. "It’s Day's turn to seek." She added, lemon juice dripping down her chin as she swallowed her bite, rind and all.

Well at least she was getting enough vitimin C.

"Right." He nodded, deciding that it wasn't cowardice that led him not wanting to get involved. No, it was just...good parenting. Letting the kids be kids. It was a sleepover, and Damian was actually playing a game! That was something to be encouraged! Bruce wasn't fleeing from this particular group of children's brand of chaos at all. "...could you hand me one of the fruit cups Alfred made earlier?"

Elle obliged on the condition Bruce didn't tell Damian about her hiding spot and returned to happily eating her...whole lemon...as he shut the fridge door on her.

As he returned to his office he glanced out one of the manor's large windows long enough to see Billy stick his head out from the top of the twelve foot tall topiaries out on the front lawn, checking to see if Damian was about. Bruce shook his head, kids and their ability to climb impossible structures never ceased to amaze him. Billy should be careful not to keep trying to peak for Damian though, he was going to end up getting found that way.

[akutasoda]

"you took my heart, my colour and drained my soul"

synopsis - they believe your soulmates and deny it. but in the event that they find out that you weren't theirs, they wish they acted upon their feelings sooner

includes - blade, ruan mei, argenti, sunday, acheron, feixiao

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst no comfort, soulmate color au, pining, slight jealousy, wc - 3.3k

a/n: this took so long and is kinda awful... had to ask a couple lovelies for characters so shouts to the amazing @mitsvriii who asked for blade, @ughscara for acheron, and @tragedy-of-commons for ruan mei and feixiao ^^ extra shouts to the number one blade kisser @https-sourlimes for proof reading his part and a very unhappy day (/j) to @.pneumosia for the banner. you made this happen 🫵

blade ★↷

he never cared that he couldn't see color.

even in those distant memories of someone he used to be, he couldn't see color. it wasn't a necessity to him however. wielding a sword and becoming one didn't require such trivial matters. the monochrome only served to keep him focused as he was never one to believe in such trivial matters like “love”.

so it confused him when his previously lifeless vision erupted into a display of color and life. it took him by surprise. never would he expect to meet somebody that would be deemed as his “soulmate” and now it was a possibility he had, blade needed to pinpoint exactly who it was - he didn't exactly even want a soulmate.

although it didn't take him long to realize just who the culprit was. he'd worked with the other hunters forever and none gave his vision color, except you. the brand new recruit. it was you. so surely that must mean you had color now as well, so would you also realize?

if you did, you would have to be the one to approach the subject. blade decided then and there that he would try and ignore the bond. he pretended he still couldn't see color, which wasn't too difficult, and he kept up his usual pretense with you which consisted of strictly work related talk.

just because he now knew he had a soulmate didn't mean he had to acknowledge it. the idea was scary for him. the fact that there was someone out there destined for him… made to heal his heart, to love a wanted criminal, someone he wasn't deserving of. and yet there was. but he didn't want to acknowledge that, he wasn't deserving of that.

so it was never brought up. by him, by you, it went unspoken and no-one else around you knew any wiser.

he didn't want a soulmate, you didn't deserve to be shackled down to a destined life with him. and that's what he constantly told himself. eventually blade could ignore it, go about his life the way he did before.

so why did he feel this way?

it was simply another day for him, he stood idly listening to kafka talk with the other hunters and he noticed something. the color is his vision started bleeding away, the brightness turning into that familiar monochrome that he was well acquainted with.

the next thing he knew, he had shot from his position and tried finding you - the other hunters had never seen him move so quickly. something had happened to you, there was no other explanation, the only way a soulmate could lose their color again was if something fatal had happened to their soulmate. he needed to find you.

and yet, he found you completely unharmed. in fact you were buzzing. when your eyes landed on his figure you smiled and ran over to him and began ranting about the person you just met and how you could finally see color again. but blade stopped listening. the color had finally disappeared fully and it dawned on him.

he wasn't your soulmate. you weren't his.

he was a blip, a mistake. blade shouldn't have been so foolish. shouldn't have given himself that hope that someone was ever right for him - even if he denied it. his heart had been stabbed, yet again. even the universe knew he didn't deserve you and so it gave him that false hope just for amusement when his hopes got crushed.

blade wanted you to not be his soulmate. and yet now that he knows you're not, he wants you more than ever. but you're happier. overjoyed at finally finding your soulmate unaware that blade desperately wished he was that person for you.

ruan mei ★↷

the idea of a soulmate was always somewhat fascinating to her. the concept of having a perfect significant other that was destined to find the other eventually and live out the rest of their lives together, it was truly intriguing. even more so when she factored in the color that could be seen when someone found their destined other.

if she wasn't already so dedicated to her research, ruan mei figured that she might have spent some time investigating the phenomenon. however, it wouldn't of been for the interest of finding her own or the natural chemistry of why people fell in love. no. it would be more about how people knew they found their soulmates, how the colors knew to fill one's vision.

after all, she couldn't see color herself. it quizzed her into trying to think of a way to fill her world with such tones, a way without finding her soulmate. it wasn't exactly a surprise to see her as the type to not want to seek out that special someone. her brain was focused on bigger things.

ideas she could test, aeonhood to ascend to, and a wide list of things to complete. anything that she achieved would only distance her from that someone. it was best for both ruan mei and her soulmate to never meet. even if it hurt that someone, it was best for the both of you.

but fate wouldn't see it that way. instead, fate brought you into her life. and from your very first meeting it was obvious. the way that color exploded into her vision nearly took her by surprise. and she clocked on immediately, you were her soulmate. you had been brought together after all this time.

but this wasn't what she wanted. so ruan mei ignored it. you would've had the same experience and probably knew, but maybe she could convince you that it wasn't her. that way ruan mei could push away the reality of knowing she had a soulmate.

although, she still kept up friendly appearances with you - you did work in similar fields after all. but she hadn't ever anticipated a certain possibility…

it was a regular day in her lab when it happened.

the color was leaving her sight. and as she watched hopelessly the color drain from her vision, she heard her phone go off. and so she looked over to her phone - you were one of the only one's she kept notifications on for during work, and ever really. it was a barrage of messages of you excitedly telling her about you and your new research partner. and how you could see color-

it was all monochrome. the color was gone.

a miscalculation. that's what had happened. something had gone wrong and she was the outlier. a failure, just like some of her experiments. ruan mei figured she would've been happy about this, you couldn't be a distraction anymore. so why , instead of responding like usual, did she turn her phone off. ghosting you.

argenti ★↷

living life without color could have ups and downs. it wasn't too bad and didn't hinder his everyday life. but when he devoted himself to serve under the aeon of beauty, part of beauty was seeing color. although he did argue with himself that even true beauty could be found in a world full of shades of black and white.

it became his world. the prospect of a soulmate always intrigued him but rather admittedly, his devotion to idrilla outweighed his desire to ever seek them out. if they ever so happened to find their way into his life then so be it, he would take up the opportunity presented to him. but otherwise he wouldn't seek them out.

that was until he ran into you. a fellow wanderer who ventured through the universe. you two hit it off almost immediately, it felt like a fated encounter.

and then he saw it. that newfound beauty of color, of you. it was as if idrilla themselves were blessing him. he finally found his soulmate. and he knew it was an outlandish request but after all this time, he met his soulmate. so would it be selfish for him to ask you to join him in his travels?

the company would be welcome and who better than you? his soulmate. so argenti was overjoyed when you accepted his idea and you began traveling alongside the knight. the time you two spent together was greatly cherished. argenti used the time to get to know you better, even if you were fated to be, he still barely knew you when that was realized.

however, while you two became dear friends, argenti started feeling uneasy. you never acted liked you knew. it was as if the concept that argenti was your soulmate was nothing more than that, sometimes he swore you couldn't actually see color. which would mean…

no. he was overthinking.

or at least he thought he was. the two of you had made a brief stop on a planet, argenti had some business to attend to and so you went looking around. and when he finished he looked for you, he wouldn't drag you away if you were busy, he just wanted to know you were okay.

but even then, concern flooded his mind when the color that you had granted him started bleeding away. panic set in and he rushed to find you, something must of happened. something bad - what he didn't know was that it was only bad for him.

he found you perfectly unharmed, talking with someone, someone that made you smile and laugh the way he wished he could. and by the time he saw you wave him over, his world had been plunged into the familiar monochrome that he knew before he met you.

you excitedly told him how you could now see color, unknowing that he just lost all of his, and how this person was your soulmate. argenti wasn't. it felt like a cruel stab to his heart. he listened to you talk about potentially staying there and argenti tried so hard to not object.

you wanted this. he didn't control your life, he wasn't even your soulmate anymore. but it still hurt. not only had he lost someone he loved dearly. but he'd lost you, his cherished travel companion.

sunday ★↷

he always despised the idea of soulmates. the idea that there was something that determined the very fate of a relationship was ridiculous. a perfect partner for someone was destined without their knowledge. yes, soulmates are meant to be the perfect match for someone but sunday still wanted to deny that it was true.

sunday was even confident enough to say that he would be able to ignore having a soulmate. living with monochrome vision wasn't exactly difficult, it was adaptable especially after going so long without it. there was also the fact he wasn't exactly all that keen on having one in general.

even when he met you, when his world finally had color, he wanted to deny it. no, it was a mistake. he didn't want to have a soulmate.

he struggled with the idea that you were truly the perfect match for him. it tormented him. mocked and messed with him. but in his struggle he felt it.

it was painful. it was as if someone had taken a hot iron and pierced it straight through his heart. metaphorically of course, realistically he couldn't feel a thing - some may say that was worse. sunday could only watch helplessly as his vision yet again plunged into a colorless void.

the vibrant colors bled from his vision and all he could do was watch helplessly.

then it occurred to him, the colors could only drain if something happened to your soulmate, something that normally they couldn't come back from. he had to find you. sunday needed to know you were safe. the draining colors only urged him to find you faster. what if something horrible happened? he swore to hunt-

he stopped.

there you were, with someone he couldn't care less about, but he couldn't miss the sight of you smiling at them. sunday didn't understand? if you were okay, why was the color bleeding in his vision?

you soon turned to see sunday staring at you, you smiled and walked over to him after bidding farewell to the other person. sunday soon listened to your ecstatic ramblings about how you could finally see color, how that person was your soulmate - but he couldn't hear anything anymore. static clogged his ears and the color in his vision vanished.

oh.

he wasn't your soulmate.

he was never meant to be. something had built up his heart, his hope, just for it to all be violently ripped away from him just like that. all he could muster was a painful smile and false words of celebration.

acheron ★↷

if acheron was to be one hundred percent truthful, she never imagined meeting her soulmate. and if by some miracle she did, she unfortunately would make it clear she had no intention to keep them by her side. it sounded cruel but she never really saw herself as one to develop such relationships with others. acheron did understand that soulmates were meant to be, and she did feel pity for the one fated to her but there were other factors that came before the destiny bestowed upon two people fated to be.

she constantly moved around. the chances of her bumping into her soulmate were slim, they decreased further when she decided that she wouldn't even make an effort to search for hers. living with the monochrome vision wasn't all that bad, it barely affected day to day life - especially when someone had lived with it for so long like her.

so it came as a massive surprise when her world erupted into color after bumping into a complete stranger. acheron’s mind was clouded with thoughts and she barely acknowledged those around her, so she accidentally walked straight into you. after letting out an apology she noticed.

the color that suddenly streaked through her vision. ot caused her to stop for a moment. acheron knew she was adamant or ignoring the possibility of soulmates. but now? when she was face to face with that very person, she felt compelled to feel differently.

maybe she could stay a few extra days, get to know you a bit better. admittedly it was rather a shock that this stranger showed interest into getting to know you, but something about her drew you to her. made her seem like less of a stranger.

acheron never thought she'd feel this way about anyone, let alone her soulmate. she thought she would be immune to the concept and yet, here she was. seeing you as someone she could share her life with. it scared her even, the idea was foreign to acheron. and yet, she so desperately wanted to deny it.

so why did she try and desperately cling to the color that bled from her vision? why did she immediately try and find you to make sure you weren't hurt? why did she feel so hurt seeing you completely unharmed smiling at someone else?

and as the color completely vanished from her vision yet again, she remembered why she was so adamant on avoiding the topic at first. somehow acheron was a mistake. she wasn't your soulmate - a part of her was glad, you deserved someone better than her.

feixiao ★↷

a part of her was always intrigued by the concept, a child like wonder for the idea that one day she would meet the person determined for her by the universe and her world would light up - metaphorically and literally. it would be a comfort to know that when she met that fated one, it was meant to be. no heartbreak, no concerns about whether or not the two could ever make it work. because it would be meant to be.

unfortunately, as she got older, she lost that child-like wonder. not all of it, but enough for her to stop trying to wish, hope, even try to predict the day that her world would burst into color. alas, it had not happened so far. and after becoming a general she hardly had the time to even spare it a second thought. feixiao had more important and pressing matters that needed attending too, rather than searching for her soulmate. if they were really meant to be with her, they would find her eventually.

and maybe that's what she should've done in the past. as she met you by accident. walking through the yaoqing, originally with the purpose of heading to a certain location but feixiao quickly became distracted by the sight and smell of your stand amongst the various others. feixiao had never seen you around this area before and so she reckoned she could spare a few minutes to check it out - rather admittedly, the smell reminded her of the gnawing hunger in her gut.

although, when she reached your stall and began talking with you, feixiao became less intrigued about what her initial intentions were and more about the person behind the stall. you. it didn't go unmissed how color now started peeking into the corners of her vision, eventually the entire world burst into vibrant arrays. it took all of feixaios restraint to try and not make it obvious to you, although if she had this revelation, surely you did as well? but you never mentioned anything, or even looked surprised, if anything you expressed a concern for how silent and dazed the general had quickly become. feixiao composed herself and politely dismissed your worries before quickly making a purchase and walking away.

you noticed very quickly just how frequent of a customer feixiao had become. most days she would make her way over to your stall, always purchasing something and subsequently bringing in more customers, and hanging around. you always asked the question of her not having anything better to do as the general of the yaoqing but she always assured you that if she had, she wouldn't be here. feixiao was convinced you were her soulmate. but she still wanted to know more about you before bringing anything up, to get to know you more. but something nagged at the back of her mind, you didn't seem at all phased by the fact that you two were indeed soulmates and if anything you seemed oblivious to it.

although her nag was answered. it was another day of her heading over to your stall and yet something was wrong. she was losing the ability to see color. something that should only happen if one's soulmate was in grave danger. she had to find you, to protect you. she wasted no time in rushing over and only wavered upon seeing you happily talk away with someone. it didn't feel like you were talking to a regular customer, no it seemed more personal. you saw her and waved her over before excitedly introducing her to your soulmate. and that's when all the color disappeared. her vision plunged back into that monochrome world, but this time with much more despair.

something had gone wrong. you two were not meant for each other, you were never meant to be.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

[loganwritesprobably]

– Law with the 1° genre, prompt (l.) ✨

Law is a character I have a lot of fun writing, even though I've never actually seen him on screen (I think I've consumed the anime in the weirdest way possible). Just love him. I also love this trope

This ended up being kind of long

Find the prompt list here

Content/Warnings: Law/GN!Reader, fluff, one bed, suggestive, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, Law has a nightmare

You were a Heart Pirate, a friend to your Captain and all your crewmates. You loved sailing, and being a pirate, you loved the Polar Tang and having one of the healthiest crews on the sea. You also loved Captain Trafalgar Law. You didn't mean to end up in this position, and yet here you were, with a huge crush on the one guy who was totally off limits. Probably anyway, you hadn't exactly asked where he stood on the entire thing.

You hopped onto the dock of the island you'd arrived at, planning to spend a few days on land. You needed to stock up, and Law was on a mission for information. That meant staying away from the Polar Tang for a while. A couple of crew members remained inside the sub, and once everyone was out, sailed away to keep it out of few. It was late, and pitch black, which would hopefully mean nobody would suspect you were pirates.

Since it was late, everyone was headed to the two inns on the island, splitting between them to increase chances of finding the information that you wanted.

When you arrived at the inn with Law, Bepo, Shachi and Ikkaku, Law set about getting rooms for everyone. You stepped in beside him at the front desk, stood shoulder to shoulder, while Bepo, Shachi and Ikkaku stood behind you both, rubbing their eyes and yawning, their exhaustion clear.

Law took the three keys you'd been given, two rooms to be shared and one solo room.

"Bepo snores! He can go on his own." Shachi protested, taking one of the keys for himself.

"I do not! .. Do I?" Bepo asked, taking another key for himself.

"Sorry big guy.. I'll get in with you Shachi." Ikkaku said, leaning heavily against her friend and nearly knocking him over.

"Looks like I'm with you then, Cap." You said, and you certainly weren't unhappy with that arrangement.

Bepo found his room first, heading in and locking the door behind himself. Then Shachi and Ikkaku found theirs, and headed inside with softly mumbled 'goodnight's. You and Law were last, and he headed in first, making a beeline for the bathroom. You closed the door behind yourself and locked it, setting the room key on a side table.

You ventured deeper into the room, only for your heart to drop when you made a key discovery: there was only one bed. Bepo had taken the wrong key, and gotten one of the rooms with twin beds. At least the bed was a double, silver linings you guess.

Law shuffled out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing just sleep pants, and no shirt. He had been about to say something to you when he saw exactly what you had.

"Shit." He muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. There was no sofa in the room, and you'd not really brought anything with you to sleep on if you were going to sleep on the floor. The bed was, realistically, the only option.

"Yeah." You mumbled in agreement.

"Bepo falls right asleep too, we couldn't get him to swap if we tried." You could only nod. It was true. You'd considered that already.

"Guess we're sharing." You said, finally walking away from the bed to use the bathroom for yourself. Suddenly worried about your hygiene, you decided to take a quick shower, careful not to get your hair wet. You got out, brushed your teeth and dried off before changing into your sleep clothes. You couldn't put off the inevitable any longer though, so you stepped out of the bathroom to find Law just sitting on the bed, polishing his sword.

You put your clothes from the day into your bag, and went to sit on the other side of the bed to Law, assuming that was where you'd be sleeping. You untucked the duvet from beneath the mattress, fluffed the pillow, and silently lay down. Law set aside his sword, and did the same on his own side of the bed, still distinctly lacking a shirt. Fuck.

You lay facing the wall, away from Law, your heart beating rapidly. You didn't dare turn to see what he was doing himself, just closing your eyes. Thankfully, you were exhausted, and so you didn't lay awake and anxious for long.

-·–·-–-·–·-

When you woke the next morning, after some particularly tantalising dreams about the man sleeping beside you, you opened your eyes to discover the man in question was now facing you, and you were facing him. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked.. peaceful. You couldn't help admiring the sight, even if it felt wrong to watch him sleep. You'd thankfully not woken up cuddling, like some sort of cliche, so eventually you managed to convince yourself to get up and head to the bathroom.

You washed your face in cold water, calming yourself down after your dreams, and waking up beside the man who'd been in your fantasises in months. You took a few deep breaths before returning to the room feeling more steady than before, to find Law still asleep. Should you wake him? He looked so peaceful, and he was always so exhausted. You were sure everything would be fine, you'd wake him before noon, or if the crew came knocking.

Slowly, carefully, you collected a book from your bag and returned to the bed, not wanting to wake Law. You slipped beneath the sheets, and got comfortable, opening your book to where you'd left off last. You managed to read for an hour before Law began to grumble and shift. You looked at him for a moment, and when he didn't stop, you reached out to rest a hand on his arm, hoping to gently wake him.

That didn't work.

He shot up, eyes wide and breathing rapid. He struck out as if to hit you, but thankfully you were just slightly faster than him, having the advantage of having been awake for over an hour already. You gently moved his hand to rest in his lap, hesitating for a moment before you rested a hand on his back.

"Want me to take a walk and let you chill out here for a while?"

"No-" he rasped, hand reaching out again, but this time he gripped your wrist tightly, as if you'd disappear if he didn't hold on.

"Okay. I'll stay here Cap." You confirmed, but he didn't let you go. He couldn't. A few silent minutes passed where Law's breathing slowly evened out, and you patiently waited.

"We can talk about it, if you want." You offered, when he finally released you, treading carefully so you didn't unsettle him again.

"Not really." Law replied, rubbing his eyes to get the sleep from the corners. No wonder he was always so exhausted. You wanted to know what it was that'd upset him so much, but if he didn't want to tell you then you wouldn't press him.

Law got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom, cleaning up like you already had, and you took the chance to change into your day clothes so you were ready to go whenever Law wanted to set off.

He returned after a few minutes, looking more composed, but still exhausted. You wanted to help, to ease his discomfort and take away whatever was hurting him. That wasn't your place.

"I have nightmares too, sometimes." You said into the silence of the room, perched on the edge of the bed. Law paused his movements, surprised by your words, then continued digging through his bag for his stuff.

"About what I've lost, and everything I have now, and how easy it is to lose that too. Nobody is invincible." You continued, hoping it would at least help Law feel a little less alone.

"You dream about losing us?" He asked, looking toward the main door to the room rather than at you.

"Yeah, pretty regularly actually. You guys are my family, I don't know what I'd do without you." He nodded and slipped back into the bathroom to chance into his day clothes. He returned, only missing his hat, which you tossed to him for him to put on.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about losing us, you know. I won't let that happen to any of us." Law said, but his expression said everything.

"Then why do you worry about it?" You asked, and Law once again stopped stock still. You were going to give him a heart attack if you weren't careful.

There was a long pause then, longer than the others, and you watched Law open and close his mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words that he needed to defend himself, or at least something smart to say, but he kept coming up fruitless.

He walked over to sit beside you on the bed, licking his lips. His eyes remained focused on the ground as he hooked his ankle with your own, and then reached out and took your hand to lace your fingers together.

"It doesn't matter if I worry, I'm the Captain, it's my job. But I care if you worry, I don't want you losing sleep over us." He told you, voice impossibly soft, like you'd never heard it before.

"It's not your job. It's your job to trust us, and believe we can work together as a team to all stay safe. But the worry will never go away, we'll probably all always worry because of everything we've been through before we met." You replied, gently squeezing his hand. Your heart fluttered in your chest when he returned the gesture.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked suddenly, and a part of you was sure you were still dreaming. Surely he hadn't just asked that?

"What?" You asked dumbly, and Law laughed softly. He'd watched your pupils dilate, he knew you were interested, you were just stunned.

"I dreamt about you specifically. About losing you. Can I kiss you? I just.. want to be sure you're really there."

You had never been able to say no to your captain.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[lilacsandpetals]

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 6

Last part here.

Next part here.

Bi-Han x F! Reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW (but some suggestive themes), exploring emotions, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, blood, and mentions of violence.

Bi-Han had gotten far too used to you now. 

Since that night when you washed his hair, the taste of your lips lingered on his. It’s as if you’d cast some spell on him. He sought you in quiet moments of the day when no one else was around but you and him. Exchanging discrete touches, stealing kisses, and nothing more.

He inched closer to you every night as you retired to bed. You opted to wake up earlier. A chaste kiss was shared before he departed in the morning, followed by a fervent one before bed each night. 

Every day that went by brought you closer to him. 

Yet it still left much to be desired. The longing for more of you was present, but it seemed all too difficult to proceed as he hoped. Something seemed to always pull you two apart. Whether it was you pulling away from a kiss far too soon for his liking or him being dragged away to serve Earthrealm. Or maybe on occasion, it was his own apprehension.

He did appreciate the kiss of goodbye you would gift him before he’d depart. Which these days, was more often than he preferred. But he tells himself that it’s not only for Earthrealm’s safety but yours as well. 

And maintaining your safety was of the utmost importance to him. He’d strictly insist that you remain within the Lin Kuei’s walls, and when he did, he could see the disappointment in your eyes. Yet it was for your own good. He was sure that you were aware of the fact that your position was highly coveted. So slowly but surely, whispers and retaliation of your marriage clawed their way to the Lin Kuei. But he would not allow anyone from the surrounding clans to advocate or force your removal. 

Still, they were becoming more of a nuisance than he had initially anticipated. 

Many clans had approached the Grandmaster with offerings of their daughters for marriage; greedy and willing to sacrifice their kin as a bargaining chip in exchange for the Lin Kuei’s protection and loyalty. Although, what right did he have to think that way? His own father had so quickly arranged his marriage for the sake of greater resources for the clan’s advancement and well-being. He knew it was tradition, and he was nothing if not a product of his clan’s laws and heritage. But still, he wondered if his mother would have made him abide by such a standard. 

Either way, when you had married there were already unhappy whispers dancing throughout the other clans. With tensions brewing he urged your instructors to intensify your training as time went on, just in case things went south. Other than the blatant conflicts they’ve had to shut down, he had instances where they’ve caught suspicious characters lurking nearby the Lin Kuei’s estate. 

He wouldn’t worry you about all that. He’d manage that burden on his own. 

Usually, he’d be eager to use the skills he has been taught. His bloodlust is greater than he’s let anyone take note of. But when it came to you, these conflicts concerned him. He found no pleasure in engaging in disputes that may put you at risk. It causes his heart to become anxious like he needs to wipe out any threat to you the second it arises. 

That’s why he is always leaving you. Your time spent together has been cut short so often because he needs to take care of you in this way. 

———————-

For now, he sits at the bedside, his body is tired, but he is eager to spend time in your company.

He glances at your flowers and gently plucks a petal off of one of them, he’d need to pick you new ones soon. These were clearly dead, yet he found it slightly endearing that you kept it around. One night he had seen you pluck some of the flowers off of their buds and place them into one of your books. He never cared for flower pressing, but he did find it somewhat gratifying that you’d preserve his gift in such a way.

His eyes then fall to the books. You had a decent stack of them resting at your bedside. You came off as an avid reader. When he’d return home from his work, he would find you engrossed with your novel more often than not. He wonders what type of books you like. He supposes that you wouldn’t mind him flipping through them. 

Oh, how he wishes he hadn’t. You had a type of literature you were fond of and he’s not surprised. Most of the women he knew of had a preference for romance. However, he did not expect your novels to delve into such explicit situations. 

What type of filth were you reading??

You often maintained such a monotone look while you read, so he never would assume you could be reading things of that nature. 

He toyed at the collar around his neck. Were those actions what you desired of a man? Did you think of anyone while you read those novels? Have you already indulged in such actions with another? Or did you want to try them at all? He was right beside you when you read in the evenings. In his opinion, you had ample opportunity to initiate anything if you so desired. However, you two never went farther than a kiss. And it has been some time now since your first one. A slight feeling of unease settled within his chest. He could be the one to advance your relationship if he really wanted to.

What was holding him back?

The distinct sound of your footsteps approaching snap him out of his thoughts, so he clears his throat and sets the books back in place as if they were yet to be touched. 

You rounded the corner with a smile on your face, as beautiful as always. “Husband, will you walk with me to the dining hall?”

He narrows his eyes slightly, “yes.” He gets up and steals one more glance at the books before he walks with you there. He maintains his regular demeanor. As you keep up the pace by his side, your hand slowly slips into his. He allows it and gently tightens his grip on your hand. You keep your eyes trained on the path ahead, but he can’t help stealing glances at you. Your hair was neatly tied back. A few strands always managed to escape but it felt fitting for you. The necklace he’d gotten you has taken up permanent residence on your neck, he knows you are wearing it before he even looks. The pin in your hair is simple, but he wonders if you’d want one to match your necklace. He’s sure he’d be able to find one with a jewel similar in color to that of your necklace. 

———————-

Dinner went as per usual. These days your father-in-law would direct his conversation to his sons, leaving you a silent listener at the table. They spoke about their missions and their current affairs. As the matriarch-to-be, you should have been attentive to the conversation. But you often found yourself zoning out. You weren’t included in conversations of this nature that often outside the dinner table, so it made it difficult to engage properly. 

But today was different. A calculated list of questions descended upon you. Inquiries on if you’ve been sleeping well and how many hours per night, how consistent you are with training, and if you’ve been eating properly. 

You were confused for a moment, you appreciated the Grandmaster’s concern, but it felt nearly invasive. Still, you don’t think much of it until he speaks up once again. 

“If all is well, I assume an heir will be conceived soon.”

You nearly choke on your food and begin to cough a bit. Tomas pushes your cup of water towards you. ‘So that was what all the questioning was about.’ You were not ready to have a child, not yet. And you were yet to even sleep with your husband. You seem frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. Thankfully your husband comes to your aid. 

“We will inform you when the time comes, father.” 

Bi-Han eyes you briefly and you look back down at your plate. That would be a different topic for you two to breach at a different time. 

———————-

You’re off to bathe before bed. The warm water is soothing in the midst of the cold weather. Bi-Han is tempted to ask if he could join you. Yet he cannot find the words to do so. Matters of the heart have bested him far more than those of the battlefield. So he finds himself in his secondary place of pain and comfort of the training grounds. More training was beneficial. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated Tomas or Kuai Liang to be present. They seemed more engaged in their conversation than the light sparring they partook in. What exactly were they talking about?

“Did you see his face?”

‘Who’s face?’ Bi-Han debates on whether or not he should ask, but before he is given the pleasure of deciding, Tomas spots him. “Bi-Han! Come practice with us.”

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, but he supposes the sparring partners would prove helpful. “What were you two talking about?” Tomas shoots Kuai Liang a certain look that Bi-Han takes notice of. “Well? Spit it out.” He snaps. 

“It’s really nothing,” Tomas says sheepishly. 

“We were just speaking on our future endeavors.” Kuai Liang remarks. He debates on whether or not he should cover up the subject of conversation, or if he should test his brother’s temper and be honest. 

“As in?” 

Kuai Liang throws some hand wraps to Bi-Han, which he snatches with ease. “Marriage and its aspects of love and responsibility.” Bi-Han nearly rolls his eyes. Both brothers assume a fighting stance. As per usual Bi-Han starts on the offensive, so he throws the first kick of the match, “Elaborate.” 

“The same subject that father spoke about at dinner.” Kuai Liang responds with a punch that Bi-Han checks. He then shoves his brother slightly rougher than he meant to. ‘The subject spoken about at dinner?’ The sparring comes to an abrupt halt. “My wife?” he hisses. 

Tomas promptly speaks up, “No! Just about the idea of having nieces and nephews soon.” 

Bi-Han inhales sharply, and Tomas takes note, “I mean unless you haven’t been trying for a child yet?”

Kuai Liang shoots him a slightly amused look, and Bi-Han knows that face. It’s the same face that his younger brother would give him before he was about to spew utter nonsense. “You haven’t yet, have you?”

“Shut your mouths, you insolent fools.”

Tomas tries not to chuckle, “The more you avoid the question, the easier you make the assumption for us.”

“Neither of you is married, so do not act as if you could even comprehend such things.”

Kuai Liang respects his older brother, he really does, but right now he has to resist rolling his eyes.”Harumi and I are not married yet, but I think I’m capable of understanding such a topic.”

“You and Harumi have known each other since you were children, I met my bride rather recently. It is not the same ordeal, so don’t speak on it.”

Kuai Liang supposes his brother is correct. “You’re right in that I wouldn’t understand your exact situation. But you misinterpret my intentions.” He placed his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “Don’t overthink it. Whenever it does happen, you’ll be fine. And I’m sure you’ll have offspring soon enough.” 

Bi-Han will not voice it, but he hopes his brother is right. 

———————-

Steam fills the room. You sink into the hot water and let out a pleasant sigh. Lately, you’ve had to increase the amount of time you spend training, and it is safe to say that your muscles still haven’t properly adjusted to the increased burden of it. Therefore, unwinding like this was greatly valued. 

Whenever you were in this tub, you were reminded of your first kiss with your husband. The memory is still fresh in your mind and it causes heat to rush to your cheeks. He had looked stunning that evening with his hair down and his demeanor relaxed. Since then you were thankful that you had gotten close enough to exchange more kisses in private. Although neither of you breached the aspect of furthering your physical relationship. Yet you did find yourself desiring it more and more often these days. Thinking of his physique had caused your mind to wander further than you would have felt comfortable admitting. 

And then it made you think of dinner earlier.

The process of producing a child did intrigue you, but the rest seemed nerve-wracking. Pregnancy was something you knew you’d have to endure sooner or later. It excited you but scared you all the same. And then the thought of raising a child in this strict environment worried you. 

But those were problems that you would address later. For now, you’d relax, and ponder the possibilities of what may have happened if you hadn’t retired to bed so quickly after your first kiss that night.

———————-

Bi-Han eventually returned to your shared quarters. You were adorned in a silk robe, relaxing in the bed, book in hand. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your eyes rapidly scanned the words on the pages. You bit your lip briefly before a small smile emerged on your face. He wonders what about the novel could have you so engrossed; was it on the same topic he had seen earlier today?

He clears his throat and you look up, then briefly down at your book again before you shut it. Your eyes lift to meet his, “welcome back”

He cracks a small smile as he walks over to his side of the bed. “You say that as if I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“It felt long to me,” you tease and lean closer to him. Your book is still enclosed in your hand and Bi-Han can’t help but glance at the novel. “What were you reading?” 

“Oh, this?” You hold up the book a bit higher and he gives you a little nod. “It’s a romance.”

You then stand up and motion to the stack at your bedside. “The majority are romance novels. I’ve read through a lot of them.”

You set the book in your hand down gently. “Speaking of which, I want to go get more.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “More books? Why?”

‘What does he mean, why?’ You think and cross your arms rather confused, “why not?”

“Do you need them?”

“I find them enjoyable, isn’t that reason enough?”

“Can’t you find enjoyment in other things?”

You scoff and lay a hand on your hip. “I know you’re often preoccupied but the home we live in is catered to the strict nature of your clan. There are not many means of enjoyment here. My days are busy and I like to read to unwind.”

“There’s other ways to unwind.” He responds, almost in a tone that merges desire with that hesitant spite, and it only confuses you more. You step closer, “If you don’t accompany me I will go on my own.”

“You will not.”

Now you are getting annoyed. “And who’s going to stop me?” 

Bi-Han clenches his jaw and steps forward, he holds your hand, “I will. You are not allowed to leave on your own.” It wasn’t safe, you’d become an object of envy for other clans. He was not going to let you out on your own. 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, you went out on your own accord when you had lived with your family prior to the marriage. You went out during the Mid Autumn Festival. So what was the problem now? To be frank, it was getting a bit tiring. Living out a similar schedule every day, seeing the same locations on the daily. 

Before your husband can say anything else you come up with another retort, “Okay, if I’m not allowed to go alone I’m sure Kuai Liang or Tomas will come with me.” 

“No, not happening.” He snaps. Were you purposely trying to get on his nerves? The unamused look on your face clearly told him you would not be backing down. “If you desire to go that badly. Then I’ll take you.” 

———————-

Bi-Han kept his word the next day.

It was nice to get back into the village, a much-needed change of pace from the confining walls of the Lin Kuei.

You had dragged your husband along to various shops—mostly window shopping. But you eventually made it to the shop that sold the novels you had a preference for. The shop itself was quaint, and the books were located in the back corner. You make your way there and skim the shelves, with your husband following close behind, His shadow looms over you as he tries to steal glances of the books you pluck off the shelf. You can feel how close he is so you turn around, handing him the book you have in hand. “You seem slightly interested.”

He takes the book and glances at the cover, “I assume it’s a romance.” 

“Of course, it’s a genre I like. Oh and don’t put that back, I want to buy it.”

Bi-Han flips through the pages. It appeared to follow the course of the other books you had at home. 

Maybe he’d sneak a look at the book when you were preoccupied again. If you found the actions done in the novel so enticing, maybe he could use that knowledge to his advantage. Or rather, the overall advantage of your marriage. 

He continues to follow you around the shop and ends up buying the books you picked out. As you exit the shop and make your way onto the street you see Bi-Han staring at a small establishment. It was a tad far and on the other side of the road. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You oblige and as you squint your eyes, you notice it’s a jewelry shop of some kind. You try not to ponder, but you wonder if he was buying something for you. 

So you wait on the side of the street, pacing back and forth a bit while you wait. 

But something is wrong, bit by bit, the smell of smoke starts to become apparent. At first, you consider it nothing. Perhaps a nearby eatery had burned their food or something of that nature. 

Then your stomach drops as you turn. Without warning, black smoke erupts into the air, and hot flames lick at your surroundings. Screams and shrieks of civilians ring in your ear as you attempt to make sense of what is happening.

You need to get out of here. Where is Bi-Han? 

Your eyes quickly scan from side to side. The heat of the flames are becoming more and more apparent as your skin starts to sweat. It’s getting harder to breathe. Your sense of direction is skewed. 

You need to find your husband.

But you can’t. 

It all happens too fast. You don’t know when the unfamiliar hands grabbed you, and you don’t register how quickly the cloth covers your mouth and nose. You only realize you’re beginning to lose consciousness when it’s too late. 

———————-

Your eyes can barely open. There’s a heinous pounding in your head accompanied by stinging pain around your ankles and wrists. You realize you’ve been bound there by a rope that scrapes against your skin every time you move, leaving it red and on the brink of breaking. 

You’re unable to speak due to a cloth covering your mouth. You try to remain calm, but that’s easier said than done. Tears stream down your face and you attempt to regulate your breathing. You remind yourself that the more you panic, the harder this will be.

How long have you been here? The last thing you’re able to remember is being ambushed by men you didn’t know. With a thick cloth serving as a blindfold and being in what you assumed was a darker environment, there were limited ways to estimate the passage of time. 

It suddenly hits you. The fire must have been a diversion.

You knew something was wrong. Between Bi-Han being more protective, the rise in clan conflicts, and the sudden increase in training, you should have deducted that something was off.

This would not have happened if you paid attention more or if you trained more. Maybe you would’ve been able to defend yourself and make it to Bi-Han in time. You knew risks came with your new status, why didn’t you take that into account more? 

You never thought it would affect you so directly, that you’d become a hostage. And worse yet, you didn’t know what these men intended to do. What if they meant to kill you? You would never get to say goodbye to your family back home. You would not get to say goodbye to Bi-Han. You wished you spent more time with him. You can feel yourself shaking, but attempt to take a few deep breaths.

You try to snap out of it. You have to be calm. Worrying would do you no good now. 

Your husband wouldn’t leave you like this, would he? He was a capable man. You know he wouldn’t just forget about you.

You will be fine. All you have to do is remain steadfast in your trust towards your husband. 

And so as time slowly passes, your breathing returns to a normal rate, and the tears do not stop, but they slow down. You lay your head against the concrete wall. Your mind runs over the same thought again and again. That BI-Han would rescue you, you just needed to be patient.

You don’t know how long it has been, but you’ve remained practically still.

The sound of a heavy door creaking open gets your attention. 

“She’s here!” 

Your heart pounds as you hear two familiar voices within ear’s reach. ‘Kuai Liang and Tomas.’ 

“Is she hurt?”

“I think so.”

Both of them come to your aid, first removing your blindfold. Your eyes try to adjust to your surroundings and the visual confirmation that your new family is present eases the tension a bit. Tears of relief leave you as they remove the cloth from your mouth. “Thank you.” You mumble. Drool pools at the side of your lips when you speak. Between that and the tears you briefly think of how much of a mess you might look like now. But the thought leaves as fast as it comes. Kuai Liang undoes the binding on your ankles, while Tomas tends to your wrists. It hurts, and you notice your left wrist has begun to bleed. Your lip begins to quiver and Tomas hastily wraps a cloth around it. “Don’t worry, the rope didn’t cut that deep, this cloth should do until we get back home.”

“And don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be home soon,” Kuai Liang remarks in as comforting a tone that he can muster up right now. But you catch the concerned looks that the brothers exchange.

You try to crack a smile, to show your appreciation at their attempts to make you feel better. But it’s difficult right now. 

Where was your husband? 

As if on cue, Bi-Han practically breaks down the door as he enters the room. “They’re all dead but one, I left him alive to question.” His tone of voice is harsh, practically lethal. 

You’ve never seen him like this. 

Blood paints his face and clothing. He is breathing heavily and you can vaguely hear it through his mask. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have never appeared so cold. There’s a blood-soaked dagger in his hand. You can see it’s made of ice and he tosses it to the side before running towards you. His mask covers the lower half of his face, but his eyes have always been expressive, and you can see the hardened look in his eyes slightly soften. He bends down to your level, taking your ankle in his hand gently before you feel his arms wrap around you. He lifts you bridal-style. 

Exhaustion has overtaken you. The blood on his clothing concerns you, but it doesn't seem like it belongs to Bi-Han. Some of the blood gets on your cheek when you lay your head against his chest. You can faintly hear his heart beating frantically although he doesn’t show it. He carefully wipes a lone tear that cascades down your cheek. 

You want to thank him for saving you, you want to apologize for allowing yourself to be kidnapped. You want to scream and cry, and you want him to wipe away all the tears that threaten to spill over. But it feels as if no matter how many times your mouth opens, no words come out. That no matter how badly you want to move, your body is frozen in place. He carries you out and you close your eyes. 

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you.

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Thanks for reading 💙

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[thecrazygamingzombie]

Season 2 of Helluva Boss is the 'Blitzo relationship arc'

I just picked up on a running theme in the second season of the funny demon show: every episode, in some way, addresses Blitzo's relationship with those around him

The Circus establishes how he met Stolas for the first time and why the prince is so utterly infatuated with him. That one day he shared with Blitzo as a child clearly had a massive positive impact on him and may very well be one of the few happy memories he still retained from his childhood.

Seeing Stars gives us insight as to how Loona came into his life and why he so fiercely defends the girl despite her often acting like a brat, he likely sees a lot of himself in the girl. Especially in their shared scars.

Exes and Oohs shows us how Moxxie and Blitzo first met and why Moxxie puts up with everything Blitzo does. Moxxie's life was literally in shambles when Blitzo found him and not only did the former clown help Moxxie put himself back together but gave him a fresh start on his life, free from his father's shadow.

Western Energy further develops on his relationship with both Stolas and Loona. In the former case it establishes how Stolas and Blitzo perceive each other, Stolas having built Blitzo up as this grand fairytale knight who will always save him and Blitzo having built up Stolas as this untouchable god who can't be harmed, only for both of those perceptions to be shattered by the end of the episode. Whereas in the latter case, it shows Blitzo basically acting like a normal dad to Loona. Serving as moral support while she's getting her vaccine.

Unhappy Campers provides context on his relationship with Barbie, namely how his sister utterly despises him for something that occurred in the past. A stark contrast to the photo we saw at the end of Ozzie's

Oops furthers that plotline with Barbie and gives us some good insight as to WHY Barbie hates her brother with clever context clues, while also showing why Fizzarolli hates Blitzo before allowing them to mend their relationship.

And of course Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-season Spectacular furthers the Fizzarolli plotline by establishing the sort of relationship they had before, not only showing why Fizzarolli was willing to forgive Blitzo but also why he trusts the imp so much.

Full moon is undoubtedly going to further the Stolas and Blitzo relationship plot further, I feel that 'Apology Tour' is going to be Verosika centric, and Octavia and Barbie are undoubtedly going to pop up again.

It's amazing how deep the writing can go if you can pick up on the underlying threads isn't it?

[venerawrites]

Hi~ Your writing is so so good, I can't believe I just found your blog now but I'm glad I did. I'd love to request if that's ok? A Neji x fem reader (if it's okay, Uchiha!reader, but I'm happy if not) where the Hyuga clan don't approve of their relationship, Hiashi threatens her to leave him and it kills her to do so. Angst but happy ending when Neji finds out and finds the reader again. I hope that's okay. Thank you again for your beautiful writing! ❤️❤️

author’s note: words cannot describe how hard I fell in love with this idea the second I’ve read it! (which is probably why it became so long, I just couldn't stop the story flowing heh, really sorry! x) For the purposes of this, I wrote f!reader as the sister of Sasuke and Itachi (hope that's okay). I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting! <3

warnings: angst with a happy ending + Neji is alive after the war (in this blog this is the only correct answer when it comes to Neji!)

The clock loudly struck midnight when you finally reached the doors to the gardens and pushed them open. Expertly navigating the maze of rose bushes, your bare feet hurriedly carried you toward the small house in the distance, the only safe space you could think of.

Your breath was rigid, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes stayed focused ahead, too scared to look back, in case that slowed you down. The muscles in your legs started to burn and begged you to stop for a rest, yet you couldn't afford even a second to spare.

You couldn't see him, but you knew he was near. One wrong step was all it took for him to catch up with you and you were not one to give up without a fight. Pushing the last bit of energy you had left, you squeezed the middle of your night dress in your fists, lifting it and making it easier to make longer strides.

You could see it clearly now - the smallest house of the Uchiha compound, used for newlyweds before the massacre, now standing lonely as your only hope to hide. It was so close, that your arms instinctively reached forward, eager to touch the wooden rail as a sign of reached safety.

Just seconds before you could do that, two strong arms circled your waist, lifting you up in the air and turning you around. You thrashed and kicked in the person's embrace, successfully bringing both of you down, yet he somehow found himself on top of you, quickly pinning your hands above your head.

"Looks like I won", the words came out smugly of his lips, his breathing calm and collected, almost like he hadn't been chasing you around the compound for the last fifteen minutes, "again."

You, on the other hand, were still trying to compose yourself, your lips forming an unhappy pout. He seemed to find your expression amusing, as he lifted himself into a seated position, his pale lavender eyes boring intensely into your black ones.

“You cheated”, you accused him, wiggling under his weight in an attempt to free yourself from his strong hold, “You used the Byakugan.”

Your movements stopped, your body feeling too tired to fight back. His grip also eased but did not disappear completely.

“A bold accusation”, the corners of his lips lifted in a small smirk, “and totally untrue.”

Neji finally let you go, plopping on the grass next to you, his eyelids closing at the feeling of the gentle night breeze that kissed his warm skin. You couldn't help but sneak a glance at him, admiring his almost ethereal beauty. The moonlight was shining upon him, creating the illusion that his face was glowing, while his long dark hair formed a large halo around his head. The bandage around his forehead was gone, his curse mark now a sign of pride and self-acceptance, rather than shame.

He looked like an angel. And for you, he certainly was one.

Growing up as the youngest remaining member of the Uchiha clan, your path in life was pre-determined to be filled with hate and pain. A lonely path, which you could only share with Sasuke, who was just a year older when the massacre happened. Witnessing the death of everyone you loved led you to form a shared belief that the only true purpose in life is to get revenge.

Your brother must have known it was wrong, even when he was obsessed with the idea of hunting Itachi down himself. Why else would he try to shield you from the life of a shinobi, forbidding you from attending the academy? Why would he try to stop you from leaving Konoha with him, throwing hateful words at you in an attempt to push you away? Why would he battle Itachi by himself, crying in your arms afterward, seeking comfort and forgiveness for his actions?

If you could be described with one word, however, that would be stubborn. Which is why you never gave up on trying to train your jutsu techniques in secret from your brother, nor did you leave his side once he joined Orochimaru. Despite the creepy feeling of uneasiness and fear you felt during these years, you always stayed loyal to Sasuke and you shared a goal, even going as far as to fight his old comrades once they found you and tried to convince you to go back with them.

You were not nearly as strong as Sasuke, due to his overprotectiveness and attempts to stop you from developing your skills further, yet during your late teenage years you found your strength lied in your skill to manipulate, rather than your skill to throw punches.

Everyone wanted an Uchiha woman.

Maybe it was a sick dream or a competitive spirit that men had over who could capture the attention of the last pure-blood female wielder of the Sharingan. Or maybe they carried a false idea that by getting you, they would somehow manage to connect their clans to yours, thus contributing to a new generation of exceptionally gifted and skilful ninja.

Whatever the reason was, it was clearly not because any of them liked you or cared about you in the slightest. Half of them could not even remember your first name and the rest found your bloodline way more interesting than your personality.

But with your main goal being extracting information about Itachi, and later about Danzo, Obito, and Madara, you gladly entertained such illusions, charming them with your fake innocence and cunning methods of easing them into trusting you. Your increasing knowledge of using genjutsu has also made it easier for you to aid your brother, without the need to spill blood and physically get into a fight.

Something, which turned out to be extremely valuable, once you participated in the Fourth Ninja War.

"Hey...", Neji's voice brought you back to reality and you lifted your eyes to him, noting the slight crease of concern between his brows, "Are you feeling okay?"

You nodded your head, suddenly embarrassed by the fact he caught you zoning out while staring at him. Turning your body to the side, you laid your chin on one of your hands, while the other one reached out to brush a piece of hair that fell in the middle of his forehead.

"Yeah", you said quietly, giving him a small smile, "I am now."

He stared at you for a few seconds, trying to trace any signs of lying on your face, before his hand wrapper around yours and brought it from his forehead to his lips. A gentle kiss was laid on each of your knuckles and you suddenly felt your chest being filled with a pleasant warmth.

Kami, you could live a hundred lifetimes and you still wouldn't deserve this man!

The love that blossomed between you two was unexpected and powerful, sweeping both of you off your feet. What started as him reluctantly agreeing to help you and Sasuke settle back into the village's life after you were pardoned for your crimes, soon turned into a passionate love affair between both of you.

Sneaking out during the darkest hours of the night, communicating only with glances in public, and finding excuses to train in secluded places in the forest were now usual things for both. Sasuke realised long ago there was something going on between you two, especially after you refused his invitation to join him on his travels abroad and chose to stay by yourself in the large compound. Still, he never directly addressed it, happy that you found someone who was appreciating you for you, not for the last name you carried.

A few members of the Hyuuga clan also realised there was a reason for Neji's suddenly distant behaviour. Hinata, being the first to accidentally catch Neji sneaking past midnight out of his room and jumping over the neighbouring wall their family shared with the Uchiha property, was not really that shocked or surprised. She knew that her cousin has actually harboured some form of crush on you, after you selflessly protected him and Naruto during the war, and she was glad you returned his affection.

Hiashi, on the other hand, has also connected the dots and was far from happy. As the strongest young male of the clan, Neji was being groomed into one day taking over the position of the leader, something which both his daughters appeared too timid and weak to take over. His relationship with you, regardless if it was serious or not, was not only a risk to him, but to the whole Hyuga clan, who valued the purity of their family bloodline.

And while he never said anything to his nephew, he watched him through his window night after night, sneaking once the moon was high up the sky and coming back just minutes before sunrise. Something had to be done and it had to be done soon, before you became a bigger threat. Thankfully, Hiashi knew just how to deal with pests like you.

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"Are you coming tonight?", you murmured in his neck, your breath tickling the soft skin. The grip of his fingers tightened on your waist and you couldn't help but smirk after you felt his breath hitching, knowing well that if you looked up you would find a pink blush covering his cheeks.

Neji hummed, his lips trailing from your temple down to your cheek, landing a few light kisses while doing so. You squirmed at the ticklish feeling, a low chuckle leaving your lips. The man closed his eyes at the sound, which sounded like a music to his ears. He often imagined what it would be like to wake up to it, once you become his lawful wife. Would your children also carry such melodic and hypnotising voice? He really hoped so.

"When have I ever missed?", his brow lifted in question and your lips immediately stretched into a wide smile, before pressing themselves to his. He tasted sweet like honey and you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of his mouth moving against yours. Both of your heads tilted in the opposite directions at the same time, one of his palms gently cupping your jaw to keep your head steady.

After a minute, you both felt the need to inhale oxygen and pulled away from each other, the feeling of the lost of contact already making you whine.

"You are either going to be either my death or my paradise", his soft gaze landed on yours and he landed one more kiss to your mouth, before pressing his forehead to yours, "If I don't leave now, I will surely be caught. The majority of the elders wake up with the first rays of sunshine."

Knowing there was no point to argue or beg him to stay, you nodded your head, already feeling eager for the sun to go down so you can see your lover again. You wished you could proudly show your love to the world and claim him as yours, without having to hide and pretend. And while he has assured you before that he is ready to have your relationship public, you still felt insecure about how people and more importantly his family would react.

You may have been pardoned, but you were still considered an ex-criminal by the laws of the village. Many people were still cautious about you and Sasuke, raising the concern that inevitably you or the future generations of Uchiha would bring more trouble. Some of them tried to reason with the Hokage that it is best if you are forced to move outside the village. One of these people was also Hiashi, who also felt that due to the fact the Hyuga compound was neighbouring yours, they would have to more or less keep an eye on you, thus wasting valuable time and resources.

Given the obvious dislike of his uncle towards you and the fact that Neji was having enough stress in his preparation to become the next leader of the clan, you couldn't risk to taint his reputation or chances to finally rip he fruits of his years of suffering and hard work. So you kept insisting you meet in private, telling him you would be ready once a little bit more time passes.

"I love you", you whispered against his lips as your final goodbye, before stepping away and opening the door to the gardens. Neji's face visibly relaxed and he rubbed his nose against yours, his own little gesture of affection, which you knew carried twice as much feelings as any kiss.

"I love you, too", he replied, finally stepping outside and looking at the dark orange colour of the sky in the distance. He turned to you one last time, obviously wishing to steal just a few more seconds in your presence, "Get some rest. You haven't slept at all through the whole night."

You rolled your eyes and were about to reply that he had not slept at all as well, but the moment you opened your mouth, he was already walking towards the end wall you shared with the Hyuga. A small smile graced your lips while you watched him climb it, before disappearing on the other side. With his presence gone, the need for sleep caught up with you and you soon made your way towards your room, slipping under the warm blankets and into the world of dreams.

You were not sure for how long you were asleep for. Maybe it was an hour or maybe it was two, but what you knew was that it wasn't for long before you were forced awake by loud banging on your door. Your initial reaction was to ignore it - it was probably Naruto or Sakura, wishing to train with you or grab lunch. If you didn't answer after the first few minutes, they were bound to give up.

The banging, however, persisted and it became louder and louder the more you tried to ignore it. Letting a silent puff under your breath, you kicked your covers away and grabbed your dark blue house kimono from the chair next to you bed, before tightening it around your night gown. You lazily made your way towards the door, trying to rub away the sleep from your eyes.

You didn't had to try for long, since as soon you opened the door, you became wide awake and alert.

"Lord Hyuga?", what was supposed to be a greeting came out more as a question and the old man grumbled in response, his eyes travelling from your messy black locks down to your bare feet. You tried to fix your appearance a bit, pushing your hair back and putting on the first slippers you managed to locate, which happened to be Sasuke's.

"Uchiha", he said your last name with a sour expression on his face, "Can I come in?"

Realising you were yet to invite him in, you cleared your throat and nodded your head.

"Of course, please!", you moved to the side and Hiashi did not waste even a second before pushing past you and heading toward the first open door he saw, which happened to be the one of the living room. You closed the door, but not before you scanned the visible area in front of your house.

He seemed to have come alone. Weird.

“Can I get you anything, Lord Hyuga? Tea? Water?”, you tried to ignore the cold glare he was giving you, instead keeping your tone as polite as possible. The man shook his head, instead pointing toward the seat in front of him as a silent gesture for you to sit. Your eyes danced a few times between him and the chair before giving in at his request.

“You are a smart woman, which is why I’m going to cut straight to the point”, his posture straightened and his chest puffed a bit forward, an obvious way of him claiming the more dominant role in your dialogue, “I want you to leave Neji alone.”

Your eyes immodestly widened and your throat felt dry, squeezing around nothing. Your finger clutched the ends of your kimono belt, digging your nails into the soft fabric while your brain rapidly tried to come up with a response to his blunt words.

“Wh-what?”, you finally managed to let out the question, mixed with a nervous laugh, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Lord Hyuga.”

Were you supposed to admit to your affair? To deny it? Has Neji told him or did he somehow caught him in the act of sneaking? Many questions kept flooding inside your brain, the whole situation catching you completely off guard.

Hiashi clicked his tongue in annoyance, not appreciating the fake oblivion you were trying to sell him. “Typical Uchiha”, he thought to himself, before shaking his head.

“Your little tricks may work on my naive nephew, but I already have experience with the snakes from your clan”, he said harshly, looking you through narrowed eyes, “You are neither as cunning or sneaky as you think. I know you have been in a relationship with Neji for the past year and a half and I am here to tell you that whatever you have going on is ending tonight."

Losing your composure was something which almost never happened to you. Perhaps the years living among the biggest criminals in the world has hardened your personality and you knew how to keep yourself collected under pressure and threats.

But now, under his cold glare and harsh demand, you felt something inside of you snapped and your Sharingan involuntarily activated, the confused expression on your face now transformed into a serious one. You held his eyes and with a deep breath you relaxed the tight grip you had on your robe, laying your palms flatly on the table in front of you instead.

"Are you threatening me, Lord Hyuga?", your head tilted to the side, the dynamic between you clearly shifting, "Because last time I checked I have no reason to explain myself to you, let alone listen to your commands."

"Ah, there she is", he simpered, looking pleased with the fact he managed to provoke such a defensive reaction from you. Staring at your red eyes, he leaned forward, laying his own two hands opposite yours on the table.

"Maybe not", he shrugged his shoulders, "But I want you to think about my next question and give an honest answer."

A few seconds of silence followed, before he opened his mouth again:

"Do you believe, even for one second, that you would ever be good enough for Neji?"

The words hit your deeper than expected. Pressing your lips into a thin life, your whole body visibly tensed, the truth of his words suddenly hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Neji was a strong, hard-working and honest man, who had strong moral values and sense of loyalty. Did you deserve such a partner after everything you have done? No.

But you were not willing to give up on him either. You had no idea why fate made him fall in love with you, but you were not about to throw it away just because someone felt threatened by it.

Sensing that you won't reply to his question, Hiashi continued:

"You may have a few gifted exceptions such as Madara or your brothers, who all went down in a questionable path", he mused, "but the Hyuga remains being the strongest clan in Konoha. A position which we held and will continue holding due to our strong sense of community and the duty we feel to look after one another."

You couldn't help but raise your brow at his words and narrow your eyes.

"A duty which you did not feel toward the members of the branch family, including your own brother", you bit back, knowing where to hit so it hurts the most. Your verbal attack seemed to be successful, as his facial muscles hardened and his whole look became darker.

"There is no division in the family no more", he hissed through his gritted teeth, questioning how open Neji has been to you through the course of your relationship. You obviously had an insight of how the family used to work and while he felt he shouldn't hold that against his nephew, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by the fact the matter was discussed with an outsider.

"Not thanks to you", your tone matched his, "It is Neji who pushed for this change, it is him who will completely unite the Hyuga clan."

Hiashi chuckled dryly at your words, surprisingly nodding his head.

"And where is your role in this, you think?", pushing himself back into a straight position, he looked at you with humour in his pale eyes, maybe even a bit of pity, "A woman from a clan, famous for producing mentally unstable individuals, who either start wars or betray their village."

Your hands immediately tightened into fists, nails digging at the soft flesh of your palms. With a deep breath and teeth sinking deep inside your lower lip, you tried your best to control the rising rage inside your body.

"You don't know anything-"

"I know that even now you are barely holding back", he interrupted, his voice louder than before, "Do you think that we will not only let someone like you in the family, but also let them marry to the future leader of the clan? That we would risk having future heirs who possess the Sharingan, rather than the Byakugan?"

The sudden realisation of your potential future made you freeze. You never really though about children or how your future may look like, but it was now clear to you that Hiashi was, indeed, right.

As long as Sasuke found someone to settle with and produced heirs, your clan was bound to continue to exist and be restored. The Uchiha have powerful bloodline, which even when mixed with someone who is not part of the clan, overpowered the other genes. This why you knew that a few generations in the future, your family was about to be brough back to its original numbers prior to the massacre.

The Hyuga clan, however, could not risk their clan leader producing an Uchiha heir. While having pretty strong genes themselves, it was really a half-half chance what the child is going to be. Odds, which were not good enough, especially for a clan that valued purity so much.

The man stood up, making his way toward the door, while leaving you to think over his words.

"If you don't care about yourself and your reputation, which is damaged enough already anyway...", he stopped by the door, giving you one last look, "Then think about Neji. I may have no control over you, but I can promise you that he will not become the leader of the clan if you continue to pose a risk to our family, nor he will remain a member of it."

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The air felt colder than the previous night, dark clouds slowly floating and covering the bottom half of the moon. Leaning against the wooden railing of the main house's terrace, you starred up the sky, wondering what your life would be if you were born into a different lifestyle. With different parents, siblings and without the curse of hatred.

How easy life would be then... No rules, no regrets. Just freedom.

Soft fingers brushed your hair aside and you jumped at the feeling of someone standing behind you. Turning around you found Neji, who quickly retracted his hand once he noticed your jumpy reaction.

"My flower", he gently smiled at you, closing the distance and attempting to kiss your lips, but landing on your cheek instead after you turned your head last minute. Immediately furrowing his brows, he grabbed your face in his hands and turned it towards him, his eyes immediately noticing the lack of excitement that usually radiated from you every time you saw him.

"What's wrong?", the young man wasted no time enquiring, the bluntness of his words reminding you of that of his uncle. You tried to smile, but your heart did not allow you to fake your emotions before him. There was no point either way - Neji was excellent at reading people, especially you. Sometimes you felt he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"Walk with me", was all you replied, before stepping back and walking down the stairs. When you noticed he was not following, but remained in his place, you extended one of your hands toward him, "Please."

He stared at you unsure what he should do, but eventually he followed you, frowning when you retracted your hand before he could grab it. You walked in silence between the small houses forming the Uchiha compound, before he tried to quiz you again:

"Did I do something? Are you upset with me?"

You shook your head, your heart ripping apart inside of your ribcage at the thought that he was torturing himself with the idea that he had done something wrong. Your pain also increased knowing what were you about to do was going to crush both of your souls.

"Of course not", you denied, "I just... I really want to show you something."

Neji glanced at you again, not saying anything. One quality that you admired about him was his patience - he was not pushy or assertive, instead he always gave you space when he felt like you may need it. Just like he was doing now.

Reaching the end of the compound, you found yourself standing in front of small memorial temple, the Uchiha symbol, painted over the double doors, was now dusty and in places - completely missing.

"I haven't been here since I was a kid", you smiled sadly, going up the few steps and entering the small space with Neji following cautiously behind. He knew what the building was - his own clan had a very similar temple in their own compound, a way for the family members to seek guidance and comfort from their ancestors in times of great need. Unlike his, however, the Uchiha temple was dark, dusty and covered with webs - a sign that not only you haven't visited in a long time, but neither had Sasuke or any other person.

You made your way towards the middle, grabbing what was once a candle, but now was just a piece of melted white wax.

"I came here the day before me and Sasuke left the village", you said, your eyes moving up the large stone in the centre of the temple, where the names of all of the deceased Uchiha members prior the massacre were neatly written in a big list, "I asked for guidance, for some type of advice... yet I was met only with silence. Maybe this is why I found myself taking the wrong path."

Neji kneeled next to you, his hand finding yours and giving you an assuring squeeze of his fingers.

"Yet here you are", he calmly stated, his free hand wiping the dust away from the altar from where you picked the candle from, "You found yourself and you came back home. That is something that not everyone can do."

You let him hold you, his words of comfort making your eyes sting. Yet, you refused to cry, not wanting to scare him. Instead, you took a deep breath, before reaching to your dress pocket and getting out a new candle and a box of matches. You carefully placed it in the middle of the altar and lighten it.

You lifted your gaze towards the stone with names, the only one you recognized being the ones of your grandparents written right at the bottom. Your memories of them were somewhat lost in the fog of time, yet you tried your best to keep them alive in your mind, as well as the rest of your family.

"Maybe. But this is not why I brought you here", for the first time this evening you looked at him straight in the eyes, "I wanted to..."

The words died in your throat and Neji gave a gentle squeeze to your hand, a reassurance that you can take as long as you need to tell him whatever was on your mind.

"My flower, don't feel the need to-"

"I can't be with you anymore."

His hand suddenly withdrew as if your skin burned him and you desperately fought the instinct to reach out to him. He remained silent, studying your face with his brows furrowing more and more, till there was a deep crease between them.

"Y/N...", your name rolled out way too calmly for your liking, "Tell me what is going on."

Your face remained stoic, the fear of accidentally indicating even with the slightest twitch that you are lying paralyzing every muscle you had. Dragging your tongue across your dry lips, you took a deep breath, before repeating the same story you have been rehearsing for hours that day.

"My ancestors have showed me the truth", you stood up, gaze focused on the stone before you, "I have a duty towards the future generations to ensure the survival of my clan and my bloodline."

Your lover quickly followed your movements, but instead focused his attention on you. You heard him loudly gulp, before speaking:

"I assume the "truth" they have showed you does not involve me."

Neji has always been smart, often too smart for his own good. Which is why it didn't take him longer than few seconds to feel the direction in which you were trying to stir the conversation. You remained looking at one unspecific spot in front of you, still trying to contain the tears that threatened to spill any moment.

"With Sasuke gone, I am the one who is in charge of this clan", your back straightened more and more with each word, your body turning to face his, "It is my duty to ensure that the future leader will possess the Uchiha genes."

Something in his jaw worked and his eyes narrowed just a bit, a sign he was analysing something.

"Are you pregnant?"

A faint blush covered your cheeks at his question and you shook your head 'no'. You and Neji had been intimate a few times in the past, but you have always been careful.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why are you doing this?", his arms crossed in front of his chest, "Because you had a dream?"

The way he said it sounded almost mocking and you gave him a glare, suddenly feeling stupid after realizing how absurd it sounded. Maybe you should've come with a different story, about how you were going to travel with your brother or something.

"It was a guidance."

"Your ancestors didn't gave you a guidance when you needed it most and but suddenly they feel concerned if you future children are going to be Uchiha?"

His voice was getting lower, while his face remained serious, and you quickly understood that his patience was starting to run thin. Neji was an understanding man, but he was no fool - he knew when somebody was trying to lie to him, especially when that somebody was you.

"Perhaps the guidance comes when it is needed, not when it is sought."

"Don't lie to me!", his calm exterior cracked and he grabbed your hand, turning you toward him, "Everything was fine this morning and suddenly you feel like we are not good together anymore? All because of the idea of children, which we don't even have?"

"Does it not bother you?", your voice raised as well, "The idea that your successor may not be Hyuga? The idea that you would betray your clan?"

Neji remained silent and his hand slowly removed itself from you. A sudden wave of coldness hit you once his warm touch was gone. He studied your face, carefully examining each movement you made.

"Did anyone from my clan come to visit you?"

So he has put the pieces together. You should have expected this... It was now or never! You had one chance to execute your lie perfectly. C'mon, Y/N! You have been tricking men all your life, just calm your nerves, look into his eyes and... strike.

"We had fun time, Neji", a small apologetic smile danced on your lips and your hand reached to his crossed arms, laying on top of them, "But it is time to think about the future! And having fun is not enough for me to keep pretending anymore... The same way it was not enough for all these that tried before you."

The more you talked, the more distressed he started to appear. He was trying to hide it well, but the way he was biting the inside of his lips and the nervous twitch of his toes were enough for you to know how he really felt.

"You are lying...", it sounded like he tried to reassure himself, rather than confront you.

"I was", you shrugged your shoulders, "But not anymore. It is time to be honest with each other."

"You said you love me-"

"I said what I knew you needed to hear."

That triggered something in him and he looked at you with disgust, before stepping away from you. Turning his back, you could see him taking deep breaths in attempt to calm himself. You closed your eyes, unable to witness the pain you have caused him.

"The stuff they said about you...they are all true, aren't they?", his voice came out quiet and you almost missed it with the sound of the wind outside, "About how you tricked men, women and children, just to further the agenda of hatred you shared with your brother! How you used people's kindness only to stab them in the back once you no longer need them! How villages were burn and people were exiled, because they were foolish enough to trust you..."

You couldn't keep your tears anymore and you let out a loud sob, rubbing the sleeve of your top against your eyes. But unlike the usual comfort Neji provided in moments like this, the only thing he offered you was a glare mixed with disgust and anger.

"Why are you crying?", he rhetorically asked, scoffing at your behaviour, "Do you want me to feel bad for you? After you ripped my heart out and stomped on it just so you can have "fun time"?"

Choosing to move your eyes to your shoes instead, you watched your tears falling on the cold stone below. You always thought you knew what pain was having lost so much since such an early age... But what you felt at this moment was the most excruciating feeling you have ever experienced.

Shaking his head, Neji let out a sigh, before he closed the distance and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder.

"Shit, I...", it was the first time you ever heard him swear and it surprised you, "You have no idea how much I hate you right now... and how much I hate myself for the fact I can't bear the sight of you being upset."

Your knees gave up under you and if it wasn't for Neji, holding you, you would've collapsed on the ground. Hearing him say he hate you was the final drop in the already overflowing pool of emotions you were feeling, but you couldn't be mad at him. You hated yourself too, probably more than he could ever do.

Staying intervened with each other, you tried to burn the feeling of his body against yours into your mind, so you had a bittersweet moment to cherish for the rest of your life. Because no matter what happened with you, Neji or even Hiashi, you knew that there was no going back.

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Weeks passed and Neji never came back, neither you saw him in public. You didn't even remember when he left on the day you ended your relationship, all you could remember was him carrying your tired body inside, before laying you down and leaving without another word.

Neji, however, saw you. Every morning when you were leaving your house for groceries. Every evening, when he was walking home with Lee and TenTen after training and he could see the outline of your silhouette walking around the house through your window.

The young Hyuga has always been somewhat reserved and cold, especially to people he didn't know. But since that day he started shutting everyone out - his teammates, his family, even his sensei. And no matter how hard they tried to reach out to him and find out what was going on, he refused to let anybody in, instead focusing all his energy in either doing solo missions or training.

The only person that could make sense of Neji's current state was Hiashi, who after a few weeks of watching his nephew push himself to the limit, decided it was time to have a talk with him.

"It is the Uchiha woman, isn't it?", he asked one day while watching over the compound with his hands clasped behind his back. He never even glanced at Neji, who looked at him with surprise, before pressing his lips into a thin line.

"I see", Hiashi said after the few seconds of silence, "They have this strange aura about them. It's almost like they are luring you in, trying to stray your attention away from what is really important... Her mother was the same."

The young man did not reply, instead eyed his uncle suspiciously. He waited for him to continue, but was met only with silence. After a while, he forced his gaze away and mimicked his position by moving his own arms behind him.

"I wouldn't know, uncle."

"Wouldn't you?"

It almost felt like time stopped and Neji held his breath. Hiashi continued to look ahead, appearing to all the other member of the family that passed by that he was just enjoying the peace of his own mind.

"That part of the wall that you kept climbing in order to sneak out is right under my window."

His nephew pressed his eyes closed and let out a small sigh. Did he feel disappointed because of the lack of care he was exercising? Yes. Was he surprised? No, not really. Hiashi seemed to have his way of knowing everything about the members of the clan - what were they doing, where were they, who were they with. Neji supposed this was one of his responsibilities as the clan leader.

"It is over, uncle", he said, feeling there is no point in lying or trying to come up with a story. The older man finally turned his attention to him, resting one of his hands on his shoulder.

"Then stop mourning over it", his finger gently squeezed Neji's shoulder, "She has made the right decision."

Hiashi offered the younger man a sympathetic smile, but in response he only received a blank stare. He could feel the muscles under his hand tense and he moved it away, feeling the hostile energy radiating from his nephew.

"How do you know it was her who made the decision?", Neji asked, his intuition already telling him the right answer.

For all the years he had the chance to observe his uncle, he has never seen him flustered. But now, as he was trying to convince him that he it was just a "guess", he noticed the red tips of his ears and the nervous twitch of his nose and he knew that for a fact he was right the first time.

A member of the Hyuga did indeed visit you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You whole life was built on dependency. A harsh realization, but true. First it was your brother, then it was Neji - there has always been someone who has acted as your safe place, someone you can rely on and be vulnerable in front of.

With your sibling gone and your lover feeling nothing else other than hate towards you, you felt more alone than ever. Sure, you still had some friends visiting you, like Naruto or Ino, but nothing could fill the large gap you felt in your chest.

Every time you got tempted to tell the truth, you quickly reminded yourself that you did this for Neji's own good. You felt silly and stupid for even entertaining the idea that your romance could blossom into a marriage. Maybe you should've pushed him away the moment he told you that he doesn't "date" casually and he has serious intentions toward you, despite being together for only 6 months.

"I've known you for years", he said that day, "and 6 months are more than enough for me to know that there is no one else I want to spend my life with."

That was a year ago and you shouldn't know better. In a world build on old customs and traditions, where the only pursuit was power, there was no place for love.

7 weeks, 3 days and 13 hours have passed since you last saw the young Hyuga. You didn't want to count every passing minute, but it seemed your brain was automatically doing it for you as a reminder as to when have you committed the biggest mistake of your life.

You remained laying on your bed, eyes trained on a small black line on the wall. The memory of how it got there was fresh in your mind - you and Neji were making a list of all the places you wish to travel to one day, when you both started arguing if the Land of Water should be one of them. A verbal bickering soon turned into a tickling fight and you accidentally scratched your pen against the wall, leaving a mark on it. You were angry at him for making you leave such an ugly scratch on the white paint back then, but looking at it now you appreciated it as one of the few things that reminded you of him.

A loud knocking sounded around the house and you buried your head in your pillow.

"Not again, Naruto!", you groaned, your voice muffled in the soft material. The blonde has noticed you have been very cold and melancholic lately, thus making it its own personal mission to come and try to get you out of the house every single day. While you knew he had good intentions, you couldn't help but find his constant visits a bit annoying.

The knock sounded again and you huffed, standing up and throwing on yourself the first house robe you found laying nearby. Making your way downstairs the sound kept getting more persisting, as if the person on the other side was starting to lose their patience.

"Kami, Naruto, are you trying to break my door-", the words got stuck in your throat once you saw who was visiting you, "Neji?"

The man pushed his way past you, rubbing both his hands over his face. His usually perfect attire was wrinkly, his long hair was all over the place and the dark circles under his eyes hinted that he hasn't slept well for a while.

"You lied to me!", he exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you, "You tried to sell me this stupid story of yours about your ancestors, and your guidance, and your future heirs... And it was so obvious you made it all on the spot! I can't believe I fell for all this nonsense!"

You remained quiet, not sure if he does expect any type of answer or explanation from you or if he just wanted to rant.

"Why did you not tell me he visited you?", he asked, turning towards you with angry eyes and you didn't need clarification about who "he" was. You didn't know how or when, but Neji must have found out about his uncle's visit to your house.

"Should I tell you every time someone drops at my house?", you wanted to light up the mood a bit, but given the annoyed glare the young man gave you, it seemed he did not appreciate your attempt for a joke. You let out a sigh, walking over to the living room:

"What difference would that have made?"

Neji followed you, letting a scoff at your words and crossing his arms.

"It would have given me the opportunity to tell you that you are absolutely out of your mind for listening to him", he argued, his voice cracking in the end. Never have you seen Neji so stressed and unable to control himself, and it did break your heart all over again to witness it.

"He just wants the best for you and the clan."

"If he did, he wouldn't have abolished the branch system so late", he countered straight away and you shut your mouth, knowing you can't argue with that point, "He is old and bitter man, who is so unhappy he tries to make everyone else unhappy."

The shock from his words must have been evident on your face, because Neji let out deep exhale, before crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.

"I see you", his voice was now gentle and he looked into your eyes, "I don't care for your name or for your Sharigan, or for what you did in the past... I see the real you... and I love you."

The tears you have been fighting finally started sliding down your face and he got up from his position, cupping your cheeks and wiping them with his thumbs.

"I don't deserve... you", you hiccupped, resting your hands on top of his, "And I can allow for you to give up on the clan position because of me, I-"

"I don't care if I become a leader of the Hyuga or not", he interrupted you, eyes seeking yours, "I will give it up without a second thought if that means I can be with you."

"But if we have children-"

"I don't care about that, even if they had an additional third eye on the forehead and all of them were possessing the Sharingan", he assured you, caressing your now damp cheeks. After a second, he added:

"Okay, maybe I would care a little bit, but that is because it would freak me out if they have a third eye on their forehead."

A small laugh made its way past your lips and Neji smiled in return, wrapping his arms around you.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have said the stuff I said about you."

"Don't be!", your face buried in his chest and you inhaled deeply the lavender smell you grew to love so much, "I should be the one apologizing, I... I just wanted to do what is the best for you. I wanted to protect you."

Neji whispered a quiet "I know" in your hair, while laying a few gentle kisses on top of your head. He kept you close to his body, relieved he finally had the opportunity to hold you again. If it wasn't for the sound of his heartbeat right next to your ear, you would have thought that all of this was just another one of your dreams.

"We are going to be okay", he mumbled, his hands rubbing your back up and down, "As long as we are together, we are going to be okay."

You hummed at his words, before moving your head and looking into his eyes. You have never noticed before, that despite despite the pale colour, there were still different shades of light blue, pink, purple and white in them. Almost like they were holding a small universe behind, you suddenly felt overwhelmed with all the love you felt for this man.

"I see you, Neji Hyuga", you repeated his earlier words, "and I love you."

[animehideout]

Love Is The Most Twisted Curse Of Them All

Part 6

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Check out Part 7 here 🆕

CHECK OUT PART 5 HERE.

a/n: Hii everyone I'm back with another chapter, since you requested longer chapters so ofc I had yo give you what you want babies💗 I really hope you enjoy it , your feedback is highly appreciated ✨💗.

wc: 2.8k+

Song recommendation to listen to while reading to set you in the mood you know: DOJA CAT - CANDY 💕

Your eye lids fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the sun light that pierced through the window. Your neck hurting from sleeping in a sitting position, you don’t even remember how you managed to doze off. You got off your bed, stretching, massaging the back of your neck, a warm bath would definitely fix it before starting your day at Jujutsu High.

“Ugh shit- that bitch” you sighed in annoyance, remembering that Satoru spent the night here.

You unlocked your door, heading to the bathroom, hoping that he has already left to school.

You tiptoed outside, grabbing your towel. Your eyes widened when you found Satoru standing right in front of you, shirtless. A towel wrapped around his bottom part, his wet hair falling on his face and droplets of water found their way on his chest.

You hated him to the Saturn and back, but you can’t deny that he looked extremely hot. If he was nice a bit, maybe this marriage could have worked out, maybe you could have become a real husband and wife. But no, he chose to be a dick. And you chose to be enemies.

“What are you looking at?” he started, raising his brow.

You rolled your eyes, completely ignoring his question. It was too early in the morning to start an argument with him. So you muttered a small “get out of my face” and walked past him to use the bathroom.

That morning was intense to say the less. Even though you didn’t sit at the same table for breakfast or even bother to look at each other, but being under the same roof felt completely wrong and made you ick.

You quickly ate your breakfast and left to Jujutsu High, leaving Gojo at home. You had a morning class with the 2nd year, and honestly you didn’t care if Gojo was going to school or not, all what you were thinking about was Nanami. You were excited to see him again, and maybe get to chat again. Since that day, he gave you a reason to be happy about teaching in Jujutsu high unlike Gojo who made it living hell for you.  

Busy in your deep thoughts a voice called your name “Y/N”

you quickly turned around, a smile found its way on your lips,

“Oh Nanami! Good morning” you greeted him,

your eyes glued on his perfect figure as he approached you so elegantly. His surprise appearance made you entire morning already, not even Gojo can ruin it.

“Are you going to Jujutsu High?” he asked

“Yes! I have a morning session, and you?”

“yea, same! I hope that it’s okay that I joined your morning stroll”

“OF COURSE” you said rather excitedly then paused clearing your throat realizing how hyper you were. “yeah s-sure” you added trying to sound calm and composed, you weren’t good at social interactions.

It was a new feeling that made you float. For someone like you who was locked inside for your entire life, this small simple social interaction ; literally just walking with a friend and having an actual conversation was special to you, even though it was considered a routine for others. The way you were trying to hide your excitement, made Nanami smile to himself, it was rare for someone to get him to genuinely smile.

“By the way! Sorry if I caused a problem between you and your husband yesterday I-”

“Huh? What prob?”

“Gojo seemed unhappy yesterday because-” 

“Oh no don’t worry about it! We’re in an arranged marriage so there are no feelings involved” you explained,

at the beginning of your marriage you didn’t want to say such thing but now remembering that Gojo spilt everything about your marriage to Mei Mei and Utahime, so why not do the same and spill it to Nanami?

“Oh I apologize, I didn’t know-”

“No that’s okay! We’ll divorce eventually so-” you chuckled awkwardly “Anyways, enough of him, tell me about your Jujutsu technique! We didn’t get the chance to talk that much yesterday”

“Oh yeah right! So basically-” he started explaining and talking not only about his technique but also sharing stories about his former job…a salaryman.

You walked inside the school, giggling and all. Your smile immediately dropped when you saw your husband Satoru there.

“How the fuck? I left him home?” you thought to yourself, full of surprises isn’t he?

He was leaning against the main door frame, crossing his arm infront of his chest, despite wearing his sun-glasses, by his body language you can tell he was glaring at you both.

“Enjoyed your time wifey?” he started

“Yeah! I did actually” you answered offensively.

Sensing the electricity in the air, so to not cause further stress for you, Nanami decided to just head inside and give you time with Gojo. Even though it was arranged, Satoru is still your husband and Nanami respected that.

“See you later Y/n” he smiled and walked past Gojo.

“Hah! Good morning to you too Nananmin” said satoru but of course he got ignored,

Nananmi has nor time or patience to get into childish argument with Gojo.

You sighed, getting inside as well but he got into your way, blocking the door with his huge figure.

“Huh? What now?” you asked

“I hope you’re ready for tomorrow”

“for what?”

“haha did you forget about our duel? Or you’re acting stupid on purpose as if you forgot so you can avoid fighting me?”

“Oh Crap! Its Saturday tomorrow” you thought to yourself.

You definitely weren’t ready for that, but to protect your pride and dignity you have to do it.

“I don’t run away from battles, Storu! Put that in mind” you slapped his arm away and got yourself inside.

Time skip to the night:

Another night, locking yourself inside the room. Your mind keeping you awake, you took your fight with Satoru too personal and too seriously. Only a few hours left till the break of dawn, the clock ticked closer to your duel with him. And you couldn’t help but feel your stomach twisting, your inner organs sinking deep within you.

“What if I get beaten up and everyone is watching?” you muttered,

thinking of effective ways and tricks to defeat the most powerful sorcerer. If someone else knew, they’d make fun of you for even considering that you stood a chance against him. Anxiety kicked in, the room narrowed around you, making it hard to breathe, prompting you to take your  ass out to get some fresh air. Maybe you’ll spend the rest of the night in the balcony, maybe the cold night air refreshes you, maybe the shining stars comfort you.

As you walked outside, you could hear some noises that quickly faded into the darkness, your brows forrowed, clenching your fists. Was it an intruder? You stood in place, trying to figure out where did the noise come from and it led you to the main bedroom, that it was next door.

Curiosity took over you, slowly turning the door knob, met with a sleeping Gojo. His eyes were shut but he his body was restless, tossing and turning on the bed, battling against the haunting visions that disturbed his sleep. You got closer to him for a better look, beads of sweat traced down his forehead, whimpering and panting

“is he having a wet dream?” you whispered,

but nah scared expressions etched on his face.

“oh is he having a bad dream?” you said in confusion.

“N-no –no.. I don’t w-wanna kill…..him” he muttered, scrambled words that didn’t make much sense left his mouth.

“What should I do!” you thought to yourself.

You remember having chronic nightmares, but there was no one to comfort you, so you understood well the fear and the feeling of being trapped there but no one to wake you up. But why would you consider helping him, is he deserving of that?

But you’re too good to be true, too good for him and for the world.

You gently reached out to wake him, but was met with an abrupt startle. His defensive instincts awoke, his eyes shot open.

Misinterpreting your presence with the confusion of his nightmare, thinking you were one of his enemies, he flipped you and pinned you on the bed. His hands gripping yours tightly that it started to really hurt. The bedroom that was once filled with his uneasiness is now filled with a stunned silence, realizing that it was you. His eyes gazed at yours, you could get lost in his ocean eyes. You can hear his heavy breathing, his chest rising on falling on top of yours

“Y-you? What the hell are- you- doing here?” he asked still panting, his eyes narrowing.

“I- I was trying to wake you up from your nightmare” you answered. “you seemed really disturbed an-”

your intentions were genuine but his pride and his unexpected vulnerability had already ignited a fierce reaction within him. Anger flickered in his eyes, as he pulled you out of his bed, dragging you towards the door.

“I don’t need your help” he snapped “Get the fuck out of my room, now!” he commanded.

No way he would allow you to catch him when he’s vulnerable, not you, not anyone. You walked to the balcony, cursing at him under your breath,

“This son of a bitch, I should have left your night terrors eat you up”.

But it took you by surprise as well  that Gojo Satoru can be vulnerable and weak at some points, you shook your head, he’s a human after all.

Time skip to the morning:

“Imagine if she kicks your ass” said principal Yaga

“Nah I’d win” said Gojo with a smirk.

“Good luck Gojo I’m pretty sure you’ll win… you know she’s just a normal person not special like you” said Mei Mei with a flirtarious smile.

In the charged atmosphere, you stood there facing your husband, Satrou.

“I hope you don’t mind me showing off a bit Y/n”  he smirked,

as he started attacking you first, determined and convinced to finish you off in a matter of seconds. But he didn’t know that you’d give him a hard time. You easily dodged his punches, that instead flew into the air like lightening inches away from your face. At first you were more focused on dodging and avoiding his attacks, and then strike him with unexpected hits.

“Fight back damn it! Don’t just dodge me” he said through gritted teeth pissed that he didn’t land a single blow on you yet.

“You don’t get to tell me how to do my thing Satoru”

The battle escalated, with everyone focused on you. It became intense, each one of you trying to get the upper hand.

“Come on Y/n” muttered Nanami worry and concern visible in his eyes, he wanted to interfere, so desperately but he couldn’t.

And it’s your time now to attack. Sensing a split-second vulnerability, you seized the opportunity with a quick move that caught him off guard. You closed the distance between you two and unleashed a powerful punch that landed on his jaw. A punch fueled by anger but most importantly, by determination and years of solo training.

That strike left him momentarily stunned, pain surged through his jaw. His hand instinctively moved there to alleviate the pain. Never in a million years, Gojo or even  everyone watching expected to see him get punched. Their mouths were hung open in utter surprise.

Finally someone managed to do it, and this someone was you, his lovely wife.

Frustration fueled his anger.

“You little bitch”

His arrogance and ego wouldn’t let what you did slip easily even if it means crossing lines. So he had to break that one rule, driven by revenge, he unleashed his Jujutsu technique. Using his privilege as a sorcerer. By the look on his face you knew you were fucked.

With a blow fueled with Jujutsu energy he sent you flying. Falling on your back. In a split second, he was on top of you, pinning you down, completely overpowering you. He held you in place, maintaining a strong unbreakable eye contact. A trickle of blood escaped from your nose.

“I see your smirk disappeared now, no longer cocky Y/N hm? Haha what? What are you gonna do now with me laying on top of you just like that night! Are you gonna gaze into my eyes and I gaze into yours?”

“You fucking c-cheated! It’s supposed to be a hand to hand combat you dick”

“Well I’m special, I’m Gojo Satoru, I d-” but he didn’t get to finish his words,

you summoned a burst of strength and took the chance with a kick directed at his private area. He groaned in pain, pulling away. Your strikes didn’t end there, you shifted your focus and kicked his face now. Finally, breaking free from him.

He looked at you in disbelief, wiping the blood that dripped from his nose. “we’re even now Satoru! Next time if you wanna beat me then try to hit harder”

Your students and school staff erupted into applauses and cheers. It felt great to win your very first combat that happened to be against the strongest man. Maybe now he’ll learn to respect you and treat you with decency and not like as if you were a weak human. You proved yourself today to you first, to Gojo and to everyone; being a normal person with no Jujutsu doesn’t mean you’re weak.

“Y/n-sensei that was awesome!!” said Yuji with a wide smile.

“Thank you Yuji-kun” you smiled trying to catch your breath, limping towards them.

“but your nose! It’s still bleeding , should I call Shoko sensei?”

“No no I’m fine no ne-”

“Let me help you Y/n!” offered Nanami and of course you can’t refuse.

“I see he’s treating your wife right! Watch out he might steal her away from you” teased Mei Mei

“As if I care!” Gojo rolled his eyes and then left to join principal Yaga  leaving Mei Mei standing alone.

You walked together to the school common room, sat on the couch waiting for Nanami to treat your wounds. From the intensity of the battle with Gojo to the gentleness with Nanami.

He kneeled on one knee in front of you, carefully tended to your bleeding nose. His touch was delicate and tender. You tried to maintain composed but his touch tugged at the corners of your lips, hinting a smile that you couldn’t fully suppress. You felt your cheeks heating up, trying to not look too obvious after scanning his face so you looked away.

“And we’re done!”

“Oh um- thank you Nanami” you said fidgeting with your fingers.

“You did great by the way!” he said and You smiled warmly, still learning how to react to a compliment, muttering a little thanks.

“Alright! Take care I have something to deal with”

........

“Your wife is full of surprises Satoru!” Said Principal Yaga.

“I’ve always been a nice guy Sensei, so I went easy on her”  he answered using a wet napkin to wipe the blood.

“Doesn’t seem like it! Don’t hide it Satoru, we’re both surprised and confused I know what’s on your mind right now”

He took a deep breath, “You always figure things out, don’t you sensei? Yeah I guess you’re right I’m confused”

“Succeeding in laying a nasty punch on you while your infinity is activated is something intriguing”

“I can’t swallow it Sensei! There must be a mistake!”

“No! I think that’s why the higher ups said that once her curse breaks and becomes a sorcerer she’ll flip the balances in the Jujutsu world…Satoru can’t you see?  Y/n is something else!! Could she be-”

“GOJO SATORU!” yelled Nanami, interrupting their conversation. Approaching them, furiousness and anger etched on his face, veins popping up on his neck.

He grabbed Gojo by the collar and yelled,

“HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO YOUR WIFE?”

“you knew her only for two days so chill, don’t act like you care!”

“yes I CARE! I care when I see a bastard like you tries to humiliate others! Its your wife goddamn it”

With that Gojo pushed Nanami away, and said,

“What’s between me and her is none of your business, so stay out of the frame Nanami! She’s my wife not yours”

“Lucky for her you’ll divorce soon! Can’t wait for the day when she breaks free from your arranged marriage”

“d-did she tell you that?” questioned Gojo, his eyes widened.

“Guys, guys Ugh cut this shit!!” yelled principal Yaga who was busy talking on the phone.

“I was on the phone with one of the higher ups! They called for an urgent meeting..I’ll gather the others, classes are dismissed for today"

“An urgent meeting for what?” asked Nanami and Gojo at the same time.

“It’s Toji Zenin! He’s on the loose now!” said principal Yaga with a hint on concern in his tone.

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𓅨 Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control

Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control: Morpheus gets picked up animal control and sent to the local animal shelter. Matthew sends you to the rescue.

Warnings: Meowpheus, Language, Nudity.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader.

Word Count: ~4.3k

How dare these humans assume that he is just another cat on the streets! Morpheus is fuming, naturally. He’s been wandering the streets of your hometown, tending to the dreams of the cats, when some mortal picks him up and stuffs him in a cage! How dare they think he’s just another stray! But there’s nothing the Endless can do, as he’s currently barred from shifting back to his human form or using his power due to an agreement with his sibling. It’s a temporary agreement, but nonetheless, he’s stuck as a cat and in the hands of mortals!

Sharp blue eyes glare at the metal grates confining him in a box. Morpheus lets out a displeased rumble. The mortal sitting in the driver’s seat glances at the black feline and chuckles.

“I know, buddy, living on the street was probably freeing, but now you can have a home and not worry about where your next meal will come from!” Morpheus’ eye twitches, and he lets out another huff. The mortal thinks she’s doing him a charity! He has no need for such things nor does he need a home. He already has one within the Waking World. Your home.

Grumpily settling in place, Morpheus turns his eyes to the window above his cage and watches as buildings pass. Help will come, much to Morpheus’ distaste. Reduced to a stray feline... The rest of the car ride to the animal shelter, Morpheus is subjected to subpar singing and baby voices from the woman.

When the woman gets out of the car and carries Morpheus towards a building, his claws dig into the plastic beneath him as he’s jostled. He makes more sounds of an unhappy feline but only receives more babyish cooing from the woman. Never again, he promises himself, he will never allow himself to be in such a compromising position. He’s jostled some more as the woman moves from room to room until the Dream Lord finds himself in a large room that smells of chemicals and other felines. The box is placed on a table, and Morpheus eyes the metal grates when more voices join the woman.

“Where did you find this one?”

“Near the park where we found the others last week. This one seems to be well-fed, so I don’t think he was born feral.” Feral? Morpheus bristles at being called feral... but the conversation only grows worse. “I didn’t see anything that signaled he’d been abandoned, so maybe he ran away.”

“We can check for a microchip. You got the scanner?” A device is passed between the mortals just as the metal grate in front of Morpheus opens. A face appears before hands reach into the cage and grab his body. Morpheus is too stunned by the utter audacity of the mortal to do anything other than let them haul his large body from his confines.

He’s a very large cat. Far larger than the mortals expect, and by far the largest they’ve ever seen. And entirely black. Placed on his feet, Morpheus eyes the mortals as something is waved over his neck.

“He’s not microchipped.” A deeper voice says while Morpheus lets out a disgruntled meow and tries to sulk off the cold table. Hands stop him, pulling Morpheus right back to the center of the table.

“Not microchipped. We can put out a notice with his picture, see if someone recognizes him.” A mortal speaks while hands press against his body. Morpheus reluctantly allows the prodding, not wanting to react in any way other than what’s expected of a feline. He’s beginning to get short-tempered with the touches but withholds lashing out with his claws and teeth... that is until the vet tries to take his temperature...

You haven’t seen Morpheus within the Dreaming in several days... he’s also stood you up on your visits to the park. Not the worst thing in the world, but you’re slightly upset because you sort of kind of have a crush on the Endless and him ghosting you hurts. But you’re not dating, and he doesn’t seem to be romantically interested (at least in your mind, he however…). So you’re morosely sipping a hot drink while staring out a window in your flat, trying not to be depressed. That’s when a black blob flies into your window with a loud smack, startling you.

“What the hell?” You gape, setting your drink down and standing up. Had that been a bird? It’s a little big to be one of the crows you occasionally see in your housing area. As you step up to the pane of glass, you catch sight of a very dazed Matthew sprawled out on the ground just outside. “What the hell, Matthew!” You exclaim, running for the back door of your flat. Exiting the building, you scurry up to the downed bird in confusion.

“I think I scrambled my brain,” Matthew groans while you collect his body. “Totally thought that was an open window.”

“Nope, that window doesn’t open,” you tell him as you carry him into your flat. Depositing him onto the table, you check the rattled raven over for injuries and are happy to see that he has none. “So... why’d you try to fly in here in such a rush?”

“Oh yeah!” Matthew exclaims, snapping to and scrambling to his stick-like feet. “WE’VE GOT TROUBLE!” The raven thunders in your face. You’re about to tell Matthew to tone it down, but he isn’t done. “So the boss is kind of stuck as a cat right now and can’t shift back for a little while, and he just got picked up by animal control!”

You blink, your mind trying to process what Matthew has shouted at you with such fervor.

“Sorry, what was that?” You question, your eyebrows scrunching together.

“Morpheus is stuck in his cat form and the animal shelter is going to neuter him!” Matthew screeches in a bluster, not knowing if the shelter would actually neuter the Endless... but at this point? It’s not out of the realm of possibilities. That’s the usual routine at shelters to reduce the feral population. Only Morpheus isn’t feral. Neither is he a cat.

“How the fuck did that happen?” You blurt out. Matthew waves his wings.

“Fuck if I know! You gotta save him before he gets the snip-snip!”

“Right, probably should do that,” you mutter to yourself, frantically looking for your car keys. You’re out of your flat and in your car in under twenty seconds, not giving Matthew a chance to even tell you what Morpheus looks like as a cat. The raven only hopes that you’ll figure out which cat is Morpheus... and that you make it before his boss loses his dignity.

You’re well frazzled by the time you barge into the town’s local animal shelter. They all look at you in surprise before someone approaches and asks if they can help you.

“My cat,” you blurt out loudly. “He’s— I lost my cat... I was told he was taken here, but I—” You don’t know what to say, because you’ve never seen Morpheus in cat form. You don’t know if he looks like a specific breed, what size he is, or if he has any identifying marks. You know nothing. Luckily, the shelter volunteer doesn’t ask you any questions and simply leads you to the holding room full of cats. You’re overwhelmed; the room is a storage area with several cats sulking about. Shit. He could be any one of them.

“I’ll leave you here to be reunited with your kitty,” the worker tells you. “Doc’s calling; I’ll be away for only a bit.” You watch them walk away and whimper, fearing you won’t be able to pick out who Morpheus is because none of the cats have an ‘Endless’ vibe.

Dropping into a lone chair, you slump your head into your hands with a defeated sound as a few of the cats come up to sniff you. You try to find Morpheus among them, you really do, but none of them act like Morpheus or look like him. Would cat Morpheus even act like the normal Morpheus you’re used to? While you’re almost ready to break down into tears at the thought of Morpheus being stuck as a cat and heaven forbid, neutered, the worker returns.

“Did you find— Oh my, no! Bad kitty!” The worker exclaims, much to your confusion. You look at what they’re staring at, only to find an enormous black cat with a cone of shame standing in front of you and staring into your eyes with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. You know that gaze. The cat jumps into your lap and rises on its hind legs to plant its paws on your chest. Relief floods your body because you know this is Morpheus.

Then you notice the bandage wrapped around his hind leg.

“Morpheus, what did you do!?” You sharply exclaim, your hands reaching for the clearly wrapped injury. No wonder he’s wearing the cone of shame! Morpheus begins softly purring to reassure you and assert that he’s fine and there’s no need for you to worry.

“Oh! Is this your cat?” The worker asks as you peer at the feline’s injured leg. It’s tightly wrapped, and most likely the reason for the cone. You look at them and nod.

“Yes, he’s my cat,” you stutter out, your fingers unconsciously running down the feline dream lord’s back. He finds your touch pleasurable and arches his back into your touch. “I... I didn’t realize he’d gotten out.”

I am pleased that you came to rescue me from these deplorable mortals.

“They’re just doing their job,” you automatically chide Morpheus as he lets out a disgruntled meow. “Don’t complain.”

They tried to accost— You cut off Morpheus’ accusing words.

“Not right now,” you tell him before your cheeks grow hot. The worker probably can’t hear Morpheus speaking to you, so it would be odd for you to argue with him while he’s in cat form. What kind of nutty human talks to their cat like this? You clear your throat. “I’m so sorry if he caused you trouble. May I ask what happened? He wasn’t like this last I knew...” The worker waves you off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. He seems quite attached to you, and some cats just don’t like people other than their owners.” Your hand, which rests on Morpheus’ back, presses down to stop him from going off on a tangent about him being an Endless and no Endless have owners. He doesn’t speak but certainly lets out a rumbling growl to air his displeasure. “When we were giving him a check-up, he didn’t like having his temperature checked. He hurt himself trying to escape the exam room, so cone of shame for him.”

You eye Morpheus with a raised eyebrow, and he just huffs and presses himself further against your chest, practically laying on you. You pat the space between his ears to calm him down as he eyes the worker with a clear warning.

“He’s not usually so mean,” you nervously say, running your fingers down Morpheus’ long back. His fur feels so soft and silky, but you honestly wonder why he’s so big.

I am not mean... and get this deplorable mortal contraption off my neck! Morpheus demands, his eyes staring into yours like pools of cerulean water.

You ignore the grumbling Endless and wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your chest while you stand up. He’s heavy, as expected given his large size... but the Endless decides to help you out by wiggling upwards and placing his paws on your shoulder, holding himself up as best he can with the monstrosity around his neck. He’s graced with a very nice view of your ass and takes that as part of his consolation prize.

“Is there any paperwork I need to do before I take him home?” you ask, wanting to get the grumpy and injured Dream Lord back to your flat before he causes any more chaos or mayhem.

“Just some sign-out paperwork,” the worker cheerfully replies before guiding you to the front desk. While you’re filling out the paperwork, Morpheus reluctantly has to be placed in an animal carrier to be transported back to your flat. You try to ignore his angry yowls and hisses and certainly the threats and exclamations that float into your mind. There are many threats of ‘you dare...’ and ‘I will darken your dreams with nightmares...’

When you get back to your flat and figure out what the hell is going on, you know Morpheus is going to be in one of his moods. It wouldn’t surprise you if you had nightmares tonight. Sighing, you finish the paperwork and return the pen before looking at Morpheus, who has his razor-sharp claws digging into the soft cardboard of the disposable cat carrier that only just fits his size.

“Morpheus!” you exclaim in exasperation. The yowling cat freezes at your call and looks at you, as do the workers trying to get him into the carrier. “Just let them put you in, the sooner you do that, the sooner you can go home.”

I will not—

You point at the carrier more firmly, and Morpheus ceases his grumbles and struggles almost instantly. He doesn’t wish to argue with you or make trouble, so he goes limp and lets the mortals stuff him into the box and close it. They’re shocked by his sudden compliance.

“Wow, he sure listens to you,” the receptionist says as you hold your tongue and dread the retaliation you’ll get for yelling at an Endless. “What kind of breed is he? He’s so big! I’ve never seen a cat with such pretty eyes. He’s a handsome boy.”

“I think he’s got some Maine Coon in him,” you vaguely mutter, taking the offered carrier and glowering cat from a worker. You can hear Morpheus’ soft grumbled hisses about the babying he’s being subjected to. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him. He’s not usually so grumpy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s just stressed out and wants to go home.” You give the workers a thankful smile before lugging Morpheus back to your car and quickly putting him in the passenger seat.

“Let’s agree to never do that again,” you speak, pulling out of the shelter’s parking lot.

Release me.

“Not now.”

Y/N, you will release me from my confines.

“Not while I’m driving!” Morpheus huffs and tries to get comfortable within his small confines. He’ll be free soon enough. So he stares at you through the little holes in the cardboard box, watching your face scrunch up in concentration. It’s only a short drive to your flat, but by the time you park in your driveway and are lugging Morpheus into your house, the sky has opened up and it’s pouring rain.

Stumbling into your flat, you set Morpheus down and let out a deep breath. You’re soaked. Morpheus is apparently stuck as a cat. This is above your pay grade and you’re not even paid! First things first, get Morpheus out and rid him of that cone before he rages at you. Crouching down, you push your dripping hair over your shoulder and undo the little tabs to open the cardboard box. The moment you do, Morpheus awkwardly shoves his coned head up at you with insistence.

“The receptionist was right,” you murmur to yourself. “You are a very handsome cat.”

While I appreciate your sentiments, this is but a temporary form.

You blink and feel your cheeks grow hot. Right. Morpheus can still hear you perfectly well and communicate just the same.

“Speaking of which, how long are you stuck like this?” you ask, your fingers working to undo the collar. When you have it off, Morpheus jumps out of the box and shakes out his body.

The deal shall wear off in hours, or perhaps a day or two. I know not the exact time, but it is soon. Morpheus explains to you, turning in a circle and shaking the leg with the bandage around it. It itches and he finds the cloth irritating.

“Don’t do that,” you scold him, reaching back to stop him from shaking off the bandage.

It is but a mere scratch that will heal once I return to my mortal form. The Endless promises you, sitting down and staring into your worried eyes. You sigh and raise an eyebrow at the Dream Lord. I would not lie to you.

“Okay, just—keep it on for my sake, please?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing once more. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” As you speak, you reach out and brush your fingertips between Morpheus’ ears. The Endless purrs and bumps your fingers, pleased that you’re not terribly upset. He would be despondent should you be upset over such a thing.

Looking down at your soaked attire, you pull your wet shirt away from your skin and grimace.

“Well, now that that has been sorted, I am going to take a shower and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.” You rise to your feet and begin peeling your clothes off, not really thinking about the fact that Morpheus is in your flat and will definitely be getting a view. The Endless himself is rather in awe of what he sees as you dump your wet clothing in a hamper, now only wearing undergarments. You are an incredibly beautiful human, and oh how he wishes he had the pleasure of acquainting himself with it.

He plans on it. He’s been slowly wooing you over the last few weeks. You both regularly meet at a park, which he consequently missed because of his current condition, and the Endless is now itching to simply declare his intentions with you before someone else comes along and snatches you up. So he follows the route you walked through your flat and then slips through the cracked door into the steamy bathroom.

The shower is on, and you’re humming under your breath as you bathe. Morpheus likes the sound of your voice, your hums even more. He jumps up onto the bathroom counter and sits on the edge, happily listening to you. Waiting. You don’t take long in your shower. You just want to warm up and give your hair a quick wash, nothing too extravagant. When you turn the shower off and draw back the curtains while reaching for your bath towel, you are not expecting to see Morpheus the cat calmly sitting on your bathroom counter, staring at you. With a loud yelp, you quickly cover your naked body with the towel.

“Morpheus!” you hiss at him, mortification now singeing your cheeks. His dark head cocks to the side unperturbed.

We need to speak. You stare at him, wondering if he really just barged into your bathroom and waited for you to get out of the shower. Apparently, he had.

“Do we?” you repeat, craftily maneuvering the towel around your body to better cover yourself. “I’m tired and almost brain-dead. Your little stint at the animal shelter drained me, and I’m still wrapping my head around you being a cat.”

I have many forms... but if you wish to hold off the conversation until the morrow, I will humor you.

“How magnanimous of you,” you dryly reply, walking past him to your bedroom. You make a point to shut the door in his face before he can sneak in so you can change without him peeking at you. This displeases the Endless, and he scratches the door with a paw to make it known. Very known. “I’m changing!” you call back to him, rolling your eyes. He really is acting like a cat.

And I fail to see why you must do so behind a closed door.

“Because I’m naked! That’s why!” Again, he doesn’t understand why you’re being so modest about your body.

You have one of the most beautiful bodies in all of creation, Y/N. Again, may I reiterate my failure to understand why you must have this barrier between us? Morpheus really doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your complete and utter beauty. If you would just allow him the chance to explain how in love he is with you, then none of this would be necessary! He scratches at the door again, this time with both front paws. Scratch, scratch, scratch. You open the door, dressed in a shirt and underwear, and stare down at the Endless feline in exasperation.

“We are not in a romantic relationship, Morpheus,” you tell him with cheeks aflame. “And I am plain in comparison to those you’ve come across in your life. Let’s not pretend that you’re interested in a mortal, okay?”

I do not appreciate your words of self-demean, Y/N. You have no idea what has gotten his tail in a twist, and you’re not interested in having your heart ripped to shreds by an Endless, so you roll your eyes and go back to drying your hair. Once your hair is moderately dried and ready for bed, you climb into bed and turn out the light with a sigh. Tomorrow, you’re sure that things will return to normal and your odd relationship with Dream of the Endless will go back to the way it was. Just... acquaintances... maybe even friends.

Padding over to the side of your bed, Morpheus jumps up onto the soft surface and walks his way over to your face. You blink at him in confusion.

“You don’t need to stay here while I sleep, you know. I’m sure there are other places you’d rather be.”

I am exactly where I wish to be. Morpheus tells you, rubbing his face against your shoulder to mark you. Then he turns in a circle before settling down next to your chest. You will talk in the morning, and you will finally understand why the Endless spends so much time with you.

“You better inform Matthew that you’re alright,” you murmur, your eyes closing. Your fingers reach out to gently stroke Morpheus’ soft body, and he begins purring. “He was really worried about you.”

Sleep. Such a bossy feline.

You always wake up hot without fail, smothered by blankets and uncomfortable. So when you yawn and snuggle back into your cool mattress, you’re almost keyed into the fact that something is off. But you’re so comfortable and drowsy that you pass off that confusion in exchange for more snuggles with your bed. Then you realize that you’re not exactly sprawled on your mattress, and the coolness you’re feeling is coming from someone else. Dragging your eyes open, you stare at the wall opposite your bed for a few moments in confusion. Then it hits you that you’re half on top of someone, clinging to them with your arm.

“Do you feel rested?” Morpheus’ voice is like a battering ram in your ear, jump-starting your heart and making you physically jerk in place and scramble around so you’re on your hands and knees staring at him. Oh. My. God. He blinks at you expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer. He’s been up since returning to mortal form and has been waiting for you.

“You’re back to normal,” you comment weakly.

“Indeed,” the Endless agrees, tilting his head to the side. “I returned to this form some hours ago.”

“You’re still here,” you dumbly point out. His eyebrow goes up.

“I wish to speak with you regarding a sensitive topic. You asked to wait until the next day to do so, so I have waited.”

“You are naked!” you whisper-shout, trying not to combust or turn into a tomato. God, your body feels so hot at the moment! “And I just slept on you, and you let me!”

“You were deep within your dreams, blissfully resting. I did not wish to tear you from such peace,” Morpheus points out before raising a hand and gently stroking your chin. “Now, before you come up with some other excuse to avoid speaking with me, I shall simply inform you of what has been plaguing my mind these last few weeks.”

You tremble in place, hypnotized by his starry blue gaze that you are more than grateful keeps you from openly gawking at Morpheus’ naked god-like body.

“Okay?” you ask hesitantly, slumping onto your shins.

“I feel for you most ardently, Y/N, and wish to ask permission to court you should you be so willing.” Your brain short-circuits for a few moments as you comprehend what Morpheus has just said. Heart pounding in your chest, you force yourself to remain calm.

“And... you felt the need to tell me this when you are naked?” Morpheus’ lips quirk to the side.

“I believe we have skirted around this topic long enough and the opportunity presented itself.”

“You could have gone back to the Dreaming and gotten changed, or just magicked yourself an outfit,” you point out, your fingers twitching against your bedsheets. It’s getting harder not to look.

“Perhaps, but you were most comfortable and I dared not disturb you.” In essence, he’d returned to human form and let you sleep on his naked body for a good chunk of time. How embarrassing. Clearly, he likes seeing you squirm.

“I should have left you at the shelter,” you gripe at him for teasing you. You receive another smirk as Morpheus teasingly brushes his thumb across your lower lip.

“A lie, surely.”

“Next time you get stuck in cat form? You’re on your own.” You’re all bluster, he knows it. You know it. The entire Dreaming knows it.

Date Published: 7/12/23

Last Edit: 5/28/24

Sequel: The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control Masterlist

Morpheus Masterlist

[vikkirosko]

Feel free to reject but how about back when Stolas and Stella were together and he hadn’t met Blitzo again Stolas became close to Andrealphus wife.

She was also a arranged to marry Andrealphus at young age with the intent of a child being born and having a loveless and abusive marriage which is made worse due to the fact reader has a very low chance of being able to have children.

🦉 Stolas x fem!Reader headcanons Two unhappy hearts 🎩

After a loud scandal, it would seem that everything has returned to normal. Stolas and Stella were together again, but the relationship between them was finally destroyed. It would seem that the only reason they were still together was their daughter. Few people knew about it. Besides them, Andrealphus, Stella's brother, and you, his wife, knew about it. You've known Stolas for many years, since his wedding day. You used to have little contact with him, but now you have become a frequent guest at his house, even though you came there accompanying your husband

While Andrealphus and Stella were talking, you were sitting with Stolas. You were uncomfortable being around your husband and his sister, and Stolas saw it, so you spent time together. Stolas knew that there was no love in your marriage with Andrealphus, because of this you were in a similar position. However, you couldn't get rid of this marriage. Stolas did not know the reason, but during one of your conversations he accidentally mentioned it and immediately fell silent. He was afraid that his words might upset you, but you smiled gently at him and told him that the purpose of your marriage was to have an heir, but in all the years of your life together you have never been able to get pregnant. The doctors claimed that the chance that you would be able to get pregnant was extremely small and Andrealphus knew about it, but still has not divorced you because of his own pride

Your spouses did not pay attention to the fact that you began to communicate a lot, not even realizing that you had become very close. You hid your affair from the others and for the first time in a long time you were both happy. Stolas felt really loved by you. You were gentle and caring. You really loved him and Stolas didn't understand how Andrealphus could not see how wonderful you were. Stolas increasingly found himself thinking that he wanted you to be his wife and not Stella. He thought that if you had met earlier, you could have had a happy family, but now that his marriage was bursting at the seams and your marriage was in a similar state, so he could try to change everything and finally let two hearts be happy

You started discussing becoming a couple. To do this, you had to go through difficult divorce processes and the only thing that could help you was yourself. Stolas understood that Andrealphus would not let you go so easily, so he tried to think everything through. He tried to come up with a way to make the divorce at least as painless as possible for you, because if the affair with imp could eventually be forgotten, then if they find out about your relationship, then this scandal will not be forgotten soon

The last straw for Stolas was the bruise on your wrist. Andrealphus hurt you and he wasn't going to let it go like that. He made a real scandal, got very angry, and bluntly stated that he was not going to put up with all this anymore. Stolas decided to divorce his wife and help you divorce your husband, but in the meantime, to keep you safe, he offered you to stay in his house so that Andrealphus would not hurt you. You had a new chapter in your life ahead of you