#scary stories to tell in the dark imagine

[babbling-idiot2]

Do you think you could write a Auggie Hilderbrandt story? You could honestly do whatever, but my request would be that the reader is insecure and Auggie shows them that they are beautiful :) Like a fluff smut type thing. Thank you lol

(There is no smut in this, but I hope you enjoy it non-the-less)

You and Auggie had been together for only a year now. You both had gone on several dates, outings and just walks with each other countless times. Like now, you both decided to go the park. Mostly just talking but truth be told it was hard to keep conversation when your sweating bullets. He had declared a "break", on what he deemed a "ice cream break" due to his sensitivity to the sun. Truth be told it was well needed. It was only suppose to get hotter as the days passed. Anyhow when you both had gotten your cones and had found a vacant seat, somehow, you both claimed it. But of course all good moments in this town come to an end when a certain bully comes around. When he walked by he had made some comments. Mostly childish remarks with how you and Auggie look like your on a date. How "cute" it was and how you both looked like idiots. And then he said it. The one thing that really dampened the mood. Sure Tommy Milner was an asshole, but to comment on how you looked. You could handle his regular bullshit but that was your nerve and he had struck it.

So, later that day when Auggie walked you to your house after the rest of your time together. He had asked you if you were ok. You brushed it off with a smile, one that you were sure that would make him forget it, but no. Auggie was focused on you and could see that that smile only covered up the real feelings you were harboring. Instead of pushing you about it he nodded his head, gave you a peck on the cheek and said his goodbyes.

Your mood only soured worse at the hours passed. You tried, desperately, to forget Tommy and his awful mouth. The hurtful words. Because who cared about what Tommy Milner had to say? No one, at least none of your friends did. But damn it. Did it hurt non the less. When night came you just decided that these feeling wouldn't go away anytime soon, so, you decided to sleep them off. Perhaps sleeping would give you a fresh perspective.

The next day it didn't change anything. You felt if anything worse. Auggie and you had made plans the day before and instead of calling him to cancel you just stayed in bed. Completely unmoving.

That is where he is now. Trying to figure out if you were late or if you canceled on him without calling. He didn't want to assume that was the situation. He liked to think you would call him with a heads up. So when a good 20 minutes had passed of him just waiting he started his trek to your house. When he arrived your parents cars were gone. All the lights on the top floor were off. He wasn't above scaling your house to get to you. He really wasn't. It wouldn't be the first. Going against the little voice in his head telling him he'd most likely trip and fall to his demise, he rounded your home. He finds the ladder on the ground and grabs it up. Placing it against the houses side. He climbs until he reaches your window. Peaking his head to the side to look into your. There you are. Bundled up in your covers, unmoving. You don't normally sleep in. This is completely unlike you. He brings his hand up and knocks firmly on the window. Sure he could have done some gentle taps until you awoke, but he needed to get in now until someone passed could see him. Looking like a creeper with he's looking your window. He did feel bad when you jolted awake suddenly at the banging on the window. Looking over at the window you see him. Auggie with a big smile, waving his hand about excitedly. Shaking your head you get out of bed reluctantly. Crossed the threshold of the room you open the window. He starts climbing in and still has the big smile on his face.

"Well good morning sleeping beauty!"

Rolling your eyes you walk back over to the bed and sit down. When you sit down he has finally got his other leg through the window and is now closing it. When he turns and looks at you his smile falters a bit.

"Listen. I'm not mad about the plans you know. I would have appreciated a call to let me know you'd be staying in, but it is perfectly fine. We can make plans some other time."

You nod your head at his words and look around the room for a moment.

"Good. I'm glad. Is that all?"

His smile is gone at this point. Yeah, he's sure he knows why your mood is down.

"It was Tommy wasn't it? What he said yesterday."

You scoff. Shaking your head. You can't help the pout that begins to take over your expression. Auggie sees it happening and moves to sit with you on the bed. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. His closeness, his warmth and the fact that he always smells so good, not only gives you relief but it immediately makes tears fall down your face. He can feel them against his skin through the shirt. He looks down at your head that is leaned against him and places a kiss at the top of it. He places he cheek against you. It is silent for a moment before he speaks.

"Tommy is an idiot. He's an asshole and has no idea what he's talking about. His words mean nothing. You have so many people in this world that love you the way you are and don't want you any other way. You are loved, by so many people it would make your head spin."

You laugh slightly, while wiping away the stream of tears going down your cheek. Auggie leans back and you look up at him.

"You mean everything to me. You are perfect in my eyes and I don't want anyone besides you by my side for the rest of my life. You, my dear are perfect. In everyway."

He says as he leans in close. His lips find yours in a soft embrace. He stays there for a moment. Savoring the way your lips feel on his. All soft and pillowy. Just for him to feel. He feels so very lucky to have you here against him. When he leans away your eyes are still closed and when you open them you make contact with his. His brown orbs stare down at you as you take in his words fully. His words sealing them like a promise. The best part about that promise, is that you completely and utterly believe them. Every single one of them.

[thephantomsdream]

"If you keep staring at me like that, I'll have to ask you what are we?" Imagine being the witness of a serious crime, but the team thought you were involved somehow and needed to rule you out. Cue to big, scary, mysterious, masked Ghost trying to intimidate you by existing near you.

Soap snorts and pats Ghost on the back, which earns a glare from him, all after the man blinked confused. He had pretty eyes. Gaz moves to a corner to smile way too much, and Price sighs loudly.

After a few more minutes of explaining that you were just on your way to your shitty job and that they needed to wrap this up before you are to inevitably getting fired, Ghost still looks straight into your soul, now with more intensity somehow.

At this point, you grit your teeth. You might legit not have a job after this, since you're already half an hour late, and this (weirdly cute) fucker is trying to read your thoughts.

"Oh, you're really into me, aren't you?" He blinks seemingly uninterested and you raise a brow at him, starting a staring contest until Price (as he previously introduced himself) got in between you two.

"I don't think you understand the situation that you're in." It took all of your will to not groan like a child and roll your eyes at him.

Cue to another round of you doubling down and explaining that you're extremely lame but a good person, all while Gaz still looks you up.

"She might be telling the truth, boss." He whispered to Price in the corner of the abandoned shop they broke onto to have some privacy. The man has been trying to confirm your identity all this time, meanwhile you looked up at your number one fan to say "I told you so" and gave him an exasperated sigh when you already caught him intensely staring into your eyes.

"Seriously..." You mutter and you almost believe seeing a crinkle of amusement in his eyes. Your eyes almost twitched. "I pronounce us husband and wife." You say, rolling your eyes at him. Yeah, take that, fuck-face. You childishly thought, absolutely thriving at his slow, surprised blink. Soap cackled and tried to hide it with a cough.

Long story (not) short, you were indeed let go after Gaz confirmed you're broke, lame and basic. No secret villain or anything. After they kinda apologized, Price basically tried to gaslight you into thinking everything is fine then tried to dip his toes into mansplaining the importance of greater things beyond you, he nodded to himself and patted you on the back before barking an order to his soldiers to move. Pretty brown eyes stayed glued onto your soul until you were pretty much skipping away out of sight, rushing to your job incredibly annoyed.

You couldn't really explain your absence to your boss and he didn't care much either, he told you to get to work.

Surprise, surprise, though, because at the end of your shift, he sugarly informed you that you're fired. He gave you the pay he owed you and there you were. Jobless. And probably homeless in a month's time.

A week later and some intense job hunting done, you're at your wit's end, truly. Job market is shit and nobody is looking to hire. As you enter your ratty apartment, you sigh and almost want to cry in frustration. You've been cursing the terrorists, soldiers and any motherfucker involved in last week's incident, entering your kitchen to grab a drink and eat some air since you needed to save money, when you froze in place.

In the middle of your tiny living room stood a massive dark frame, the outside lights shining through the balcony door behind him made the man unrecognizable. You were getting robbed. You just caught a dude right in the middle of robbing you. As if it was the cherry on top, every frustration you felt erupted out of you, and while you were still terrified by the massive frame, you growled a "Get the fuck out of my house."

A deep chuckle was your only response and you felt dread.

"You got spunk. And a shit survival instinct." He stepped closer. You stepped back immediately, calculating your route to the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to catch you. Denial. You knew. But you froze again in surprise. You knew that mask.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" It came more of a whisper, thinking you'd never meet those people again. Even standing up in front of him, he's massive. Maybe he came back for those dumbass comments you made. Oh, this is revenge, isn't it? He's built, he can legit destroy you with a punch. Oh, God, you're fucking dead. They still think you're a terrorist or some shit and he's here to destroy you out of existence.

Your mind rambled until he moved, and when he did, you tensed, mind blank. The man, the Ghost took a couple of steps towards you and placed his large hand on the back of your neck, pulling you close. Oh, you're gonna fucking die for sure. He leaned down to your eye level, making you stare into his dark eyes as he studied you.

"Came back to take care of my wife." He said. It was your turn to slowly blink at him. What?

[monstersflashlight]

Hey, I was wondering g if you could make a sleeping in the dark part 2? If it's okay to ask could you possibly do a chubby!reader?

Crying in the middle of the night in the darkness but the minster comes out to think reader is crying because of the dark. Reassuring her that it's oka and the dark isn't scary but, reader then explains that she wasn't crying because of the dark. The monster gets all confused and asks why she was crying. Reader tells the monster that she was insecure abt her body, then further explains that's she's been being treated badly in her work/school environment by her peers because of her body/looks.

Thank you if you respond, I mean it could be a she part and not part 2 but again, thank you.

-🦝 anon.

Hi 🦝 anon! I���m sorry it took me so long to get to this. I really wanted to do justice to this request. As a chubby woman myself, I know perfectly well the struggles of being fat in a society that doesn’t like fat at all. I try not to make any comments about the body of the reader if it doesn’t play a part in the action bc I want ppl to imagine themselves there as they want. Even when the monsters use terms as “little human” think about it like the monster is so big you are tiny, doesn’t matter how big you are in real life. I love a good size difference, so there’s that. I hope you don’t think this means you need somebody to tell you you are pretty, beautiful or hot, because that’s not true, you are all that without anyone saying it. Believe me, as someone who likes boys, girls, and everything in between, fat bodies are hot like burning. But I do get the necessity to hear it sometimes, and this story is born because of it. That said, I hope this is as cathartic for you as it was for me, this short hit really close to the heart for me. <3

Part 1 if you haven't read it

Sleeping in the dark (part 2)

Night monster x chubby fem!reader || orgasm denial || tw: fatphobia

You were, once again, crying in your room, ugly sobs that made it hard to breathe and your heart beating faster. You felt his presence before he could make himself known. “Oh no, little human, I thought we went past the fear of the dark.” His tone was so soft you felt your heart skip a beat.

You sniffled against the pillow, “is not that.” You tried to tell him more, but another sob broke from your chest.

“What do you mean?” He seemed confused at your statement, like there weren’t any other reasons why you could be crying about. You guessed as a monster in your closet he probably didn’t know much about the horrors of the world. He lived in a bubble of darkness inside your room, after all.

“They- They called me fat,” you told him in between hiccups.

“Who did?” His tone sounded dangerous. You looked up from your pillow, trying to see something in the dark of your room. You could see his silhouette, but nothing else. You wished you could turn the light on, but you didn’t want him to go.

“Some random dude from the office. They called me fat. They thought I wasn’t listening but they called me fat and made fun of me. I thought I was past that, but there’s always someone that reminds me how ugly my body is.” He growled at that statement. You ignored it and kept talking, “they always tell you to love your body, but when it comes to being fat, they want you to hate yourself. And I try to fight it, I try every day, but sometimes is just too much.” You sobbed again, he touched your knee and you felt his arms closing around you two seconds later. “I just want to be pretty.” You cried against his chest, your voice muffled by his skin. He growled and you felt it against your teary face.

“Don’t say that. You are pretty, you are beautiful, you are the most beautiful human,” his voice was filled with desperation for you to believe him.

“You have to say that, you’ve only seen me,” you joked. The laugh you let out was swallowed by the sob that broke free right after.

“You are wrong.” He touched your skin, wiping away some tears with his thumb. “I’ve lived thousands of years, I’ve known many humans, some of them have known me. You are beautiful. You are perfect.”

“No, I’m not. But thanks for saying that.” He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a scream. He tore your clothes apart and you felt him caressing every inch of your skin at the same time.

“Beautiful,” he told you. He touched every part of your body, caressing your skin like you were a work of art, whispering endearing words against your ear. He told you every single compliment you could think of, and then some more.

It felt wrong to feel like that, you felt like he was lying, but he couldn’t be. It felt like he was forcing you to acknowledge every single cell in your body. It felt like he was pushing the words in your soul, trying to imprint them there so you wouldn’t feel ugly never again. You cried, at every single word, a tear ran down your skin. He didn’t wipe them out, he let you cry as he caressed your skin. When he parted your legs and positioned himself there, you kept crying.

Your pussy was so wet, and your soul felt so raw.

He started slow, licking your wet lips, playing with his tongue all over, but where you wanted him the most. He never shut up, telling you how pretty you were, how wet, how wonderful for him, how perfect. You were rapidly approaching to an orgasm when he said: “Say nice things about yourself if you want to come.” You shook your head, grabbing his head and trying to push him to eat you out again. “Say it,” he ordered. His voice was hard and commanding.

“I- I can’t,” you cried out. There was no way. You didn’t feel it, it wasn’t true. You weren’t pretty. You weren’t beautiful. His words seemed like a lie, but his actions spoke volumes. One of his hands never stopped caressing your soft tummy, your wide hips. His other hand played with your pussy, thrusting in and out in a tortuous way.

“Say it!” He insisted, his tone angry as he pushed two fingers into you forcefully. You cried out, almost there, so close but so far.

“I- I’m pretty,” you whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. He rewarded you sucking your clit into his mouth, the touch of fangs against your vulnerable flesh made you shudder.

“More,” he ordered.

“I’m beautiful.” Each word was rewarded by his fingers rubbing perfectly inside of you, a torture like any other, driving you insane with pleasure. “I’m hot.” Each word he forced out of you felt like he was taking a weight from your chest. You felt like you were going to float away.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” He kept playing with you, getting you close to the edge just to go away when you stopped talking. He forced you to be nice to yourself, to say all the things you didn’t believe you were. But he did, he believed. And for the moment, that might be enough. He thought you were beautiful, he thought you were hot. Maybe… maybe he was right. He never lied to you.

You were lost in your thoughts and the pain-pleasure he was giving you when he flicked his tongue over your clit as he hit your G-spot. “Come for me, pretty human. Show me how perfect you are.” And you did, falling apart around his tongue and his fingers. The attack on your senses crashing down onto you.

You had an out of body experience, the tears cool against your cheeks, your rapid breathing coming into short exhales as he played with your pussy to drive you further up. You came so hard you think you saw stars. You felt boneless, your body and your soul completely spent. You felt him cleaning you with a soft cloth, your eyes closing already.

“I will stay with you,” he murmured as you were falling asleep. You felt his arms closing around you, his hands caressing your body, from your wide hips to your soft tummy… He made you feel special, he made you feel beautiful.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

𝜗𝜚 Down the Rabbit Hole 𝜗𝜚

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Captain John Price x Fem!Reader

Work Count: 4.9k (I don't know what happened...)

Summary: Reader wanders a little too far off the path. Good thing such a nice older man came to help.

A/N: It's halloween y'all!! I freaking love halloween and all things spooky and scary. So I thought maybe I should write something really scary to fit the occasion. Okay so technically yesterday was halloween but better late than never. Let me know what you guys think. I don't think I have any smut out yet?? So please let me know any feedback or thoughts you have. I love you all so much!! 𝜗𝜚

Warnings: This story contain dark themes. Not to spoil but this one does contain DUBCON/NONCON elements, intoxicated reader, drugging, light bondage, kidnapping, forced impregnation. If you are not in the headspace the read this please scroll on. I will write some nicer things in the future.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

With a sigh you pull out your phone, the blue light illuminating your face in the dark night. Just to find you have no cell signal this far out, of course. You try calling a few people but not a single call would go through. A simple dial tone rang out much to your dismay. Leaning back against the bumper of your car, you can feel the heat radiating off your exposed engine. You look towards the propped open hood of your tired vehicle. 

The hissing machinery creates a pillar of steam when mixing with the chilled October air. Your leg bounces nervously while your eyes scan the surrounding forest. There are no street lights, no houses, not even the sound of cars whizzing by on a nearby roadway. Just dark woods and the crickets chirping. You mentally curse yourself and your friends for convincing you to drive so far out on your own. 

You spend a long twenty minutes going back and forth between trying to find service along the road way and seeking warmth in the shelter of your car. Your costume doesn't provide much cover against the autumn cold. Clad only in a restricting corset top, tiny ruffled shorts, fishnet stocking, and shiny white heels. Topped off with a pair of fuzzy bunny ears fixed to a headband and a little white tail attached right above your butt. It looked better in your mirror at home when you were imagining sitting in a hot crowded house party surrounded by familiar faces. 

Your focus breaks from the car's owner manual when you hear a distant rumbling. You hop out of the driver's side seat and look to see a blinding set of headlights coming your way. As the lights come closer at a rapid speed you wave and step closer to the asphalt to catch the driver's attention. 

Thankfully it begins to slow and rumbles to a stop a few feet short of your car. The driver kills the engine along with the annoyingly bright LEDs. Thet turn their hazard lights on, bathing the area in a blinking orange glow. You are stunned for a moment while your sight adjusts back to the dim night. You make out the shape of a large pickup truck through spotted vision. Its boxy silhouette shows a vehicle past its prime and out of style. You take that as a good sign thinking the owner must know something about taking care of cars. 

The driver's side door creaks open and out comes a pair of boots dropping onto the roadside. When they slam the door you see a large shadow saunter towards you. Heavy steps crunch on the earth below. 

"Thanks for stopping" You cross your exposed arms over your chest hoping they don't see the way you're shaking. You pretend like this isn't a total horror movie scene right now. Telling yourself the shivers are from the frigid air, not fear.

"You alright?" A thickly accented english voice asks. The figure finally reaches you. You have to crane your neck up to look him in the face, his broadness could swallow your quivering frame. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. My car not so much" you gesture back to the front of your lifeless automobile. He looks over you and hums in understanding.

"I can take a look for you," He steps past and takes in the sight under your hood. “What happened?” He takes a moment to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt and scrunch up the sleeves. 

“I don't know. I was just driving and then I heard some weird sounds then it started driving funny.” you attempt to explain.

“What kind of sounds?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug.

“Like a rattling, a pop, what?” 

“If I am being completely honest I had the radio up kinda loud so I can’t really remember. I just know I heard something then it started to shake and slow down.”

You watch as he leans forward, large hands braced against the low bumper. "Do you have a flashlight?" his tone is flat, is he mad at you?

"Yeah," you pull your phone and click on the flashlight. You stand on the side of the car and try to hold it steady with both of your shaking hands. 

"You can come a little closer," he looks up and smiles. "I don't bite"

You give a nervous chuckle and step around to the front of the car. Still careful to keep a good amount of distance from the stranger. 

"Can you- here let me just," his large hand wraps around your wrist and gently draws your hand further out until you're almost bent over reaching across the space. "That's better." 

He checks different areas, twisting and tapping on a few parts. Checking the levels of the various fluids. Occasionally repositioning the angle of your flashlight with a firm yet polite adjustment of your arm. 

"Have you called anyone yet?" His gentle eyes look up from underneath his thick brow. 

You hesitate for a moment considering the implication of your answer. He holds your stare as you try not to appear nervous. "Yes, I called roadside assistance but they won't be here for a while. They know I'm here though." You rush out a lie. 

"Hm, yeah we're pretty out" he looks back at the machinery. He stands up straight, brushes his hands off on the thighs of his jeans. "Looks like you're not going anywhere."

Your stomach tightens and you pull back your flashlight leaving you both in the darkness. 

"I can fix it but I'm going to need to go back to my place and grab some tools" He pulls the hood of your car down and slams it shut. "Or you can wait for the guy to get here. You'll be waiting for a while though"

You hold your phone tight in your palm feeling torn between trusting this stranger or going back to being stranded. "Um," it's hard to think with the constant waves of shivers going through you.

"Or you can stay here in the middle of the woods by yourself. Up to you," He pulls his keys from his pocket with a jingle and walks around you, back in the direction of his truck. 

You look between your own car, the dark tree line, and the tall man getting further away. 

"Okay!" You call to him. He turns and watches as you reach into your open car door to grab your purse and keys. You lock the door behind you and walk towards him. 

You hear his door squeak open then his truck rev to life you. You quicken your pace to reach the passenger side, not wanting to be left alone here for another second. Before you can grab the handle he is reached over the long bench seat pushing to open from the inside. 

"Glad you could make it," his cheeky smile causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners.

"Better than getting mauled by a bear" You haul yourself up and into the seat. The interior is still warm which allows you to relax a bit while your shiver subside. You take in the roomy cab of his truck. Nice leather seat, very clean, smells good. Surely he is just a kind older man wanting ti help out a stranded, clueless woman. 

"You'd be alright. Bears normally hunt in the mornings. Bobcats on the other hand, that's what you've got to watch out for." He places his hand on the gear shifter, "Seatbelt," and nods down towards the unclipped buckle.

"Okay but first, can you promise you're not going to kidnap or kill me?" You stare him down as he holds a faint smile.

"I'm not going to kill you," he chuckles

"You see, that's exactly what a murderer would say," you are only half joking with that statement but buckle yourself in anyways.

"I guess you're going to have to trust me then" He focuses his eyes forward and pulls onto the road. 

"I don't even know your name." 

"I don't know yours either" he counters

"Fair enough," you consider it for a moment before telling him your name, and he tells you his. 

"I don’t mean to be rude but, what's with the outfit?" he glanced your way for a moment. You don't miss the way his eyes trace down your figure. 

"I'm a bunny, duh." You point to the fluffy ears fixed to your headband. His brows remains drawn in confusion. "It's halloween," you continue stating the obvious. 

"Is it?" he finally puts it together. "My work has been hectic. It's easy to lose track of time. Heading to a party, then?" he asks.

"Was. I think I took a wrong turn a few miles back but I lost my cell signal so, I couldn’t get the map to load. Then my car died."

"That's some bad luck. Maybe you should look into getting a lucky rabbit's foot." He raises his eyebrows and chuckles.

"Ha ha," you respond humorlessly. "Look, the costume would've been a lot better with my friend. She's supposed to be a magician. Y'know like a magician pulls the white rabbit out of the hat."

"Right," he nods.

"Yeah, but it looks like I won't be making it tonight. I'm not too upset though. I'm not much of a party person."

"No?"

"No way, I'm a homebody. I hardly ever leave my house if I'm being honest. I work from home too so that keeps me pretty busy. Wow, sorry I didn’t mean to tell you my whole life story," you chuckle nervously.

"’S alright, I don’t mind. Your boyfriend doesn't take you out?" he asks.

"Boyfriend? No, I don't have a boyfriend." 

"Sorry, I just assumed. I mean, you're a pretty girl. Hard to believe you don't have someone to look after you." 

"Oh, thanks" a bashful blush rises up your cheeks. "Like I said, I don't get out much. Not many opportunities to meet people. Which is part of the reason my friend gets so mad at me. I've canceled on her the past three times she has asked me to hang out. She had to beg me to come tonight. I kind of feel bad though. She's probably going to think I bailed again."

"When we get back to my place you can use my phone to give her a call if you'd like," he offered. 

"Yeah, I probably should."

Looking out the windshield you can make out speckles of light ahead, breaking up the dense forest. John makes a final turn and you find yourself pulling up to a very nice cabin. Wood paneling lined the exterior framing several expansive windows which emit a warm yellow light behind the closed curtains. The glass panels stretch high to the sloped asymmetrical ceiling. The architecture looks straight out of the seventies. 

"Wow, this is your place?" you ask in amazement. "What do you do for work?"

"I work for the government," he states simply before turning off the truck and exiting. He walks around to your side and opens your door. He offers his hand to you which you shyly take as you hop down from the elevated cab. "Your hands are cold," he gives your hand a small squeeze fully enveloping it in his palm. "Let's get you warmed up inside."

He ushers you up the driveway, his hand now transitioned to your lower back. You can't deny the way his touch makes your stomach flip. He opens the door and you step into the cozy home. 

You are greeted by a vast living room. A long espresso colored leather sofa sits among matching chairs all facing towards a large stone fireplace. The space is washed in varying shades of warm browns and oranges. A beautiful thick rug lays across the glossy hardwood. 

"Sit, let me get you a drink. Would you like some tea, coffee, a beer?" 

"I'll have a coffee," with your confirmation he stepped through the living room to the connecting kitchen. Your eyes follow him as he disappears through the doorway. "Government job, huh? You must be very important." You step to one of the bookshelves that sit on either side of the fireplace. Scanning the many titles there. 

"I guess you could say that." He laughs. "Do you take cream and sugar?" 

"Yes, please." Your finger grazes the spines of the books. Many biographies and historical nonfiction among his collection sprinkled in with survival guides and warfare tactics.

"How about some Bailey's?"

"Sure,” you shrug. Maybe a little spiked coffee and make you relax a little.  

He reappears with two steaming mugs in each hand. He offers one to you which you happily accept. Wrapping both hands around the cup, allowing the hot drink to unfreeze your fingers. He holds his gaze while he takes a sip and then releases a gravelly groan in satisfaction. You follow suit taking a sip, feeling the warmth descend in your throat and radiate in your chest. 

"Not bad?" 

"No, not at all, thank you,” you smile sweetly. 

"How about a fire? Get you warmed up and then I'll go grab those tools, ay?" He doesn't allow you to answer before he sets his mug on the coffee table and kneels in front of the fireplace. 

You sit on the couch and watch while he makes quick work of getting the fire started. It's not long until he nurses the little flame into a roaring fire. He grabs a few fresh logs to throw on top before getting up and taking a seat next to you. 

"Feeling better?" He asks as grabs his drink once more and settles into the cushions, arm slung across the back of the couch behind you. 

"Much" With your cup now half empty you begin to feel the alcohol go straight to your head. You aren't surprised though. You haven't eaten all day in order to fit into this strangling outfit. 

"I like your costume, by the way. I don't think I said that earlier. Not sure if I would've stopped if you didn't look so cute" His hand reaches from behind you and flicks your artificial ears.

"Hey" You adjust the head piece back in place. "This was a lot of work to put together, I'll have you know." You attempt to convey your seriousness but can't help the giggle that escapes. 

"Oh, I can tell." His hand slips down from the back cushion to brush across your bare shoulder. The light touch makes your skin erupt in a flurry of goosebumps. "You're still pretty cold, bunny. Let me get you something warmer to put on." 

"I'm okay, really. I'll warm up." You take another long sip on your hot beverage. "I feel fine."

"I insist" He rises from the couch and politely holds a hand out for you. 

You are hesitant for a moment but seeing the persistence settled on his face you accept. "Alright," you relent.

He leads you down a dim corridor to the last room on the right. He pushes open the cracked door to reveal his neat bedroom. Very much resembling the rest of the house. A giant perfectly made bed sits in the center of the clean area. Makes sense considering the large man that sleeps in it. A lone lamp illuminates the room giving it a hazy appearance. Or maybe that's just your clouded mind. 

He steps past you towards his dresser and pulls open one of the drawers. He pulls out a large shirt then a pair of pajama pants and hands them to you. "Not sure how well these will fit but it'll be more comfortable, I'm sure"

"Too bad" You look down at the folded clothes in your hand. "Feels like a total waste of a costume."

His eyes scan down your body once more. "I don't think so" He walks past you towards the door. "I sure got a kick out of it" He smiles and turns to close the door on his way out. 

"John," you rush out before he goes. 

"Hm?"

"Can you, um-" You look over your shoulder at him. Still facing away from him. "Can you untie me?" gesturing to the lace up back to your corset.

"Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat. “I can do that" he takes measured steps towards you. As though a hunter may quietly stalk up to its prey. 

You look forward again and stand up a little straighter when his warm hands rest on your shoulders. They slowly slide down your back and onto the dense fabric. Fingers trailing over the layer of ribbon and boning. Finally he reaches the large bow at the base of your back. You feel the ribbon unwind to hang limply. Edges skimming the back of your thighs.

His strong fingers wedge themselves in the gaps between the laces. Tugging each intersection with meticulous movements so as not to throw you off balance. Your hands rush to press the front of your corset to your chest when you feel it begin to slip. At last you can take a full breath. 

Feeling his touch retreat after finishing the task you turn back towards him. Neck craning up to meet his eyes. The height difference was much more apparent from this close proximity. 

"Thank you,” your voice coming out just over a whisper.

"It's no trouble" He matches your hushed tone.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. Maybe it was the drink, or the fact that you were touch starved, perhaps even the fact that it was halloween but you felt bold. Bold enough to release your hands and allow the undone corset to fall to the ground below. 

Without a moment's hesitation John harshly grabs the back of your neck and smashes his mouth into yours as if thats the sign he’s been waiting for. Lips collide in a hot rush. His stong arms pull you flush against his broad frame. Deep groans rumble from his chest. 

Your sluggish movements make you struggle to keep up with his hectic pace. Your hands sliding up his neck to tug at his cropped hair. One particular harsh tug draws a growl from him. 

He walks you backwards across the room until the back of your tight clad legs meet the soft comforter. He releases his hold and you fall backwards onto the mattress. 

He towers over you. His chest heaves with each breath as he stares you down. Your stomach flutters, unsure if it is due to excitement or fear. You begin scoot backwards up the bed but as you make your way towards the pillows his hand encircles one of your ankles.

"Not so fast little, bunny," he tugs your leg harshly and pulls you back towards him. He doesn't waste time as he dips his fingers into your tiny ruffled shorts yanking them down in one swift motion. 

He climbs over you, wedging his thigh between your legs. His hand maneuvers around your lower back and behind your neck. He pulls you back into a heated kiss. 

You feel the pressure from his muscular thigh press against you. You unconsciously grind your hips into his leg while he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. He assists in your movements as he grips your hips, rocking you back and forth.

"That's it, pretty," he leans down to mumble in your ear. "I can feel you soaking through those little panties," then giving your earlobe a nip.

Moans slip from you with each movement. Rutting pathetically, unable to stop yourself as you near closer to your edge. He dips down to your neck expertly finding your sensitive points. Biting your pulse then soothing it with his tongue. The friction from his jeans rubs against your little cotton underwear and fishnets. 

"John, please," you whine, unsure of what you're asking. 

"Go ahead sweet girl, cum for me." His powerful grip digging into your waist. 

With his words of approval paired with his hot mouth moving along your throat, you begin to unwind. Tipping over the edge, your legs tightening around his own. The knot in your stomach finally snaps. Back arching into him and loud moans pouring from you. A rush of heat fills you and until you finally slump back into the bedding. 

John loosened his hold around you. A hand coming up to move hair away from your face. "You're a dirty little girl, aren't you? Humping my leg to get off. Nasty thing, you are." 

A blush of embarrassment rising across your already flushed face. The shame morphs back into lust as you feel a tightness reform in your stomach. 

John sits back on his knees and begins to unbutton his shirt. Your eyes can't help but to land on the massive bulge formed in his pants. A thick outline straining against the restricting denim. He finishes stripping off his shirt revealing his burly chest. You sit up to run your hands down his bare skin. Leaving kisses along the line of hair leading from his chest into his happy trail. 

Your hands skim lower to find the buckle of his belt. You make quick work unbuckling and unfastening of his jeans. Hurriedly yanking down the offending material just enough to give way to his tight boxers. Your mouth salivates at the sight of his hard cock straining through the thin material.

Before you can rip away the final layer he grabs your wrists. “Not so fast,” he chuckled. Gathering both your wrist into one of his hands easily he uses the other to swiftly pull his belt from it loops. He takes the belt and wraps it around your wrists, securing them tightly together. 

“Needy girl,” he mumbles. His rough palms traced down your arms then along your waist. “Taking whatever you want,” his fingers skim along the pattern of your fishnets. “It’s my turn now, bunny,” once he reaches your still clothed center. Finger grip the threads of your tights and rip them open. Completely tearing the flimsy strands to fully expose your panties. 

He slides his fingers across your sensitive clothed cunt making your hips thrust into him. “Oh, bunny. You’re soaked,” his eyes flick back up to meet yours. The black of his pupil now blown out almost completely consuming the previously blue iris. 

He takes your bound wrists and pulls them over his head. Your arms now wrapped around his neck, your bare chest flush against his. He pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips. Not bothered enough to fully undress he jerks down the waistband of his boxers. Allowing his thick cock to spring out. Fingers frantically pulling aside the drenched material of your panties, exposing your throbbing heat. 

He grinds his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his cock easily through your wet folds.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as his head rubs against your sensitive clit. “Please, fuck me” 

Needing no more prompting he pulls your hips back and lines himself up with your needy hole but not yet entering. “You want this?” He dips just the tip of his head in, teasing your dripping entrance. 

“Yes, please,” you beg, looking at him through your lashes. You desperately try to grind your hips down but he holds you in place. 

“What good manners you have,” he continues to tease and thrusts the tiniest movements, never fully entering. 

“John, I can’t wait anymore, please, just- please. I need it. I-” Your string of pitiful begging is interrupted when he finally yanks your hips down. His length fills you completely in one smooth thrust. Your eyes roll back at the sensation as he fills you to the hilt. 

He lets out a guttural moan once he is fully inside of you. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans. His head dropped in the crook of your neck, biting the soft skin there. Mustache and stubble scratching along your collarbone. You yelp at the pain of his bite but he doesn't relent. Your pussy tightens around him as his teeth sink into the tender flesh. 

His arms move from their grip on your hips and fully wrap around your back. He begins to thrust up into you. Not easing into the movement as he immediately drives his hips up at a brutal pace. As if he were unable to wait another second. 

Unable to grip into anything with your bound hands, you find purchase digging your nails into the leather of the belt. Your head tipping back limply as you can only take his cruel ministrations. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He grits out through his teeth, each word punctuated by his hips driving up into you. His cock pounds into your cervix making a flurry or stars burst behind your eyelids at every hit. “Is this what you’ve been needing? A good fucking?”

You mumble out a pathetic, “Mhm,” unable to fully process his words. His fingers dig into your shoulder and back. You are fully engulfed by this giant brute of a man. 

“I know you do. I knew from the moment I saw you. Looking so sweet on the side of the road.” He chuckles darkly. Continuing to hold you tight against him he leans forward until your back hits the comforter. Your legs lock around his back while he holds your hips in place. The new angle has him pounding into your sweet spot over and over. The friction of his hair rubbing onto your clit creates the building of renewed heat in your stomach.

“You gonna cum again, pretty? Let me see you do it,” his thrusts slow from the frantic pace to a slower harder stroke. His arms lay on either side of your head while he studies your features. Hard length easing out of you slow enough for you to feel each ridge and vein. Then jerking his hip harshly back in. 

Your head was feeling fuzzy. A drop of salvia trailed out of your lips and down your cheek. Your high was getting closer with each thrust. Eyelids fluttering shut as you feel the knot tighten in your stomach. So close to release. Your walls contract around him causing your legs to tighten, toes curling. 

“Hey,” John snaps harshly. When he receives no response he gives you a light smack on the cheek. Hard enough to make your eyes pop open in shock. “Look at me, pretty girl. I need to see those eyes,” his words sound warm but he grips your jaw in place with a stern hold.

Your eyes flutter while you struggle to keep them focused on him. Coming closer to the edge. “Come on, you can do it. Don’t make you give you another smack. I don’t want to hit you, pretty girl. Don’t make me” his tone dripping in condensation. “That’s it, give it to me. I wanna see you come undone, bunny.”

Then you snap. A series of shockwaves ravages your tired body. Shooting sparks of electricity race through your limbs. Your unfocused eyes stayed fixed on him throughout your climax. Your back arches high into his chest. Fingers ball up tight, desperate for something to grip. Your mouth drop open agape in a silent cry. Tear form in the corners of your eyes threatening to spill from the over stimulation. His harsh movements not granting you mercy in your fraile state.  

“God, I can feel you squeezing me. Oh, pretty girl, I'm gonna fill your sweet cunt,” he moans. Hips increase in pace as your tense muscle loosen in exhaustion. 

“Wait-” You murmur, hardly able to get your words out. Only a string of incoherent mumblings follow. Your brain is completely clouded. You know you can’t let him finish inside. “Please, no,” you whimper. “Can’t”  

“It’s gonna be okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’m gonna fill you up and maybe I’ll get you pregnant.” He says with a wicked smile. “You want to be my little house bunny? Fuck you until you get big and round. Walk around pregnant barefoot,”

Alarm bells ring in your ears but you aren’t able to fight against his strong hold. Your limbs remain weak. Useless to pull away from his embrace “Please” you whine, “I can’t”

“You can, bunny.” His thrusts grow erratic, losing their rhythm. “Gonna be such a pretty mommy,” His hand slipped underneath your head allowing thick fingers to tangle into your hair. His hands closing into a fist giving the strands a sharp tug. The other hand wanders down to your hips. Holding you firmly in place with a bruising grip. 

With one final thrust he releases a loud, guttural groan. Teeth bared in exertion as he reaches his own climax. Cock pulsing inside of you, draining his seed into your weeping womb. All you can do is tighten your jaw as you attempt to push, kick, scream, anything but you just lie there. The faintest gasp leaves you when you feel his warm load pool inside of you.  

“You made it so easy for me,” he laughs. “You just got in my truck. Walked into my house. Silly girl, you don’t even know me. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk to strangers.” 

He gives a few more gentle pumps before pulling out completely. Leaving your aching cunt feeling empty. He leans back and stares down, watching him cum drip out of your still quivering cunt. 

“You know, I put something in your drink. Took a little while to take, though. Got to you just in time I think. I was going to wait but you wanted it, didn’t you? I like seeing that dumb look in your eyes.” He grabs your jaw and moves your head back and forth while you stare blankly back at him. 

“Couldn’t let a little bunny like you get away, could I?

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

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[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (Prologue)

If she could, (Y/n) Wayne would go back in time and make sure she was never taken in by Bruce Wayne and his pack. Now, she has to live with the fact that her life may end on the day of her 18th birthday, that she's going to be slaughtered and ripped apart by the very people who she wished loved her. It's alright though, 'cause she has a plan. However, things are starting to get weird... scary weird.

You arrive at Wayne Manor at age twelve, newly-shifted, anxious, and hopeful. Your mother, an apparent old hook-up of Bruce Wayne, had decided that she couldn’t take care of a half-werewolf hybrid and proceeded to leave you to CPS as soon as you presented as a shifter. CPS of course ran a blood test to see if you had any viable relatives who would be able to take you in, something custom for children of shifters. You guessed they thought that shifters would be more inclined to take in a kid if they were related, something to do with pack bonds and whatnot. 

So imagine both you and the worker's surprise when Bruce Wayne came up as a paternal match on the blood test. Everything that happened afterward was a blur. After several back-and-forth phone calls and e-mails, your caseworker made you pack whatever little belongings you had into a bag, herded you into a car, and started driving towards the nicer edge of Gotham.

You sat in the backseat, hope searing through your heart as you mulled over your fate. It wasn’t uncommon for already established packs to take in other members, especially if the newcomer was related to someone already in the pack. Of course, there would be an adjustment period in your case, you didn't expect to get along with everyone immediately, but it would all work out, right? Mr. Wayne had already signed the papers that officiated his custody over you, so that must mean he wanted you, right? A pack wouldn’t tolerate just anyone on their land, let alone in the heart of their territory.

So if they were allowing you to live with them, then that means that they were willing to consider you as pack. Your heart soared in the backseat, the hope and promise of a family and pack making you giddy with joy. According to your caseworker, there were seven other pack members, all legally considered Bruce Wayne's children. That meant you’d have siblings too; a lot of them at that. You couldn’t wait to hang out with them and play in the forest on the property. 

However, when you finally pull up to the manor's entrance, things don’t go quite as you expected. First off, it takes a full ten minutes after your caseworker rings the doorbell for anyone to answer, and when the doors finally open, you find yourself looking up, and up, and up, until your eyes meet the cool steel-blue gaze of a towering man: Bruce Wayne, the pack leader, the alpha, your father.

You offer a tentative smile, trying to gauge his reaction, but he only gives you a brief glance before turning his attention to your caseworker. They launch into a conversation about paperwork and other mundane details, Bruce nodding as he opens the door wider, gesturing for you both to come inside. Stepping through the threshold, your eyes widen at the interior—grand and sprawling, yet somehow almost cozy in its opulence. A warmth you didn’t expect fills the space, as though it’s been carefully curated over time to be both stately and lived-in.

Your gaze drifts to an older man who approaches you with a kind smile, Alfred, the family’s butler. While Bruce and your caseworker continue their conversation, Alfred gently asks about your journey. You eagerly tell him about the deer you spotted on the drive over and how the surrounding forest seemed like something out of a story. Alfred listens patiently, nodding with a smile as you ramble on, your nerves momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, Bruce and your caseworker finish their conversation. She kneels down to give you a final goodbye, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly before she leaves. Now it’s just you and Bruce. You turn toward him, shy but hopeful, ready for something—a welcome, perhaps. But his expression is unreadable, his gaze indifferent, almost detached. The excitement bubbling in your chest fades, replaced by a quiet pang of disappointment.

Oh. You thought he’d be happier to see you.

Bruce studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable and a bit cold. It feels like he’s assessing you rather than welcoming you. Your excitement dims, but you keep your smile, hoping maybe this is just his way, that he’s just not sure how to be around a kid like you yet. After all, he’s the head of this massive family, and you’re a brand new addition. Surely he needs time to warm up. But as he looks you over, he finally speaks, his tone polite but distant.

 “Alfred will show you to your room,” he says. “You’ll have some time to settle in, and we’ll talk more in the morning.” Then, as if you’re not really there, he glances back at Alfred. “Make sure she’s comfortable. And let the others know we’ll have dinner in an hour.”

With that, he turns and walks away without another word. You stand there, still holding your bag, feeling the weight of disappointment settle on you. You’d imagined this moment so many times—meeting your father, being accepted into his home, his pack. You hadn’t expected hugs or anything too mushy, but something warmer than whatever the hell you just experienced. Maybe a smile, or even a nod that felt like you mattered. Instead, all you’d received was a look that barely acknowledged you.

Alfred clears his throat softly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Right this way, young master,” he says with a gentle smile, gesturing for you to follow. “I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow, but for now, let’s get you settled in your room. It’s rather lovely, if I may say so.”

You nod, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you,” as you follow him up the grand staircase, each step echoing in the vast, empty silence of the manor. Despite the opulence and luxury surrounding you, it feels a bit lonely and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort you’d imagined this home would have. Alfred tries to fill the silence, pointing out various rooms along the way: the library, the kitchen, the sitting room. You nod along, doing your best to listen and absorb it all, but your thoughts keep drifting to Bruce’s indifferent expression, the way he hadn’t even looked back.

Finally, Alfred stops in front of a door and opens it, revealing a spacious bedroom with a large bed, a cozy armchair by the window, and shelves lined with books, even a stuffed wolf on the bed, clearly placed there just for you. The sight tugs at your heart—a small attempt to make you feel at home.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Alfred says softly, watching your reaction.

“It’s—it’s really nice. Thank you,” you reply, setting your bag down by the bed. You glance around, taking in the details, wondering if Bruce had anything to do with the setup. But something tells you it was probably Alfred who made sure it was welcoming.

He nods, giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Dinner will be soon, and you’ll meet the others then. Don’t worry too much; they’re quite an interesting group, but they’ll warm up to you soon enough.”

You smile back at him, grateful for his kindness. Alfred excuses himself, leaving you alone in the quiet room. You sit down on the bed, running your hands over the soft blanket, still clutching that little bit of hope you have left. Maybe Bruce just needed time to adjust. Maybe, in his own way, he was trying to accept you.

But as you think back to the way he looked at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of uncertainty. You wonder if he’ll ever see you as part of his pack—or if you’ll always be an outsider in this place that you’re supposed to call home.

[Hey guys! This was a super short prologue, I promise the other chapters will be at least 2000 words. Anyway, I want to say that this story will be DARK. Like I'm being so serious rn, like this shit is messed up so please be careful!!! I'm talking about potential cannibalism...still, hope you enjoyed this!]

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[misojunnie]

COVET 𖣂

how far would you go for love?

your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to hurt a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.

pairing: bf!jungwon vs. admirer!riki x fem!reader

genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle, established relationship au

warnings: violence, dark and disturbing behavior, substance use, murder, slow burn (only gets scary at the end) no mature themes! enha’s behavior and personalities are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen

playlist: runaway by kanye west, nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex, S.D.O.S by alex g, sour times - live version by portishead, violent youth by crystal castles, goth by sidewalks and skeletons

word count: 12.6k

taglist! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: hello all! welcome to the first installment of fright night, my halloween series! I hope you enjoy ❤️

You had never considered yourself an overtly desirable person.

You spent the majority of your school years being ignored. You didn’t have many friends, and you spent most of your lunches eating alone. For a long time, school felt like torture.

Meeting Yang Jungwon felt like a breath of fresh air.

You met in your junior year. Neither of you were exactly popular, and you both seemed to have an innate ability to blend into the background. But upon meeting each other, you realized you didn’t have to hide yourself. Jungwon valued you for exactly who you were. And he valued you very, very much.

Before you knew it, you were spending every waking moment with him. He would sneak into your bedroom window after dark. You’d stay up until the sun rose, speaking in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. You quickly realized that he was the only person in the world who you could tell everything to. 

The last day of junior year, he kissed you under the willow tree in your front yard. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier in your life. 

And suddenly, your life was all about Yang Jungwon.

You spent almost every day of summer by his side, doing everything imaginable. Picnics in the park, walks on the beach, night drives, your hair whipping in the cold nighttime wind as he sped down the highway, laughing. You had never been this happy before, and neither had he. Then, summer ended.

You didn’t think Jungwon had changed, but the people around you disagreed.

Jungwon grew a few inches over the summer. His clothes suddenly fit him awkwardly as he filled out in the shoulders and the arms, and his pants were now just a little too short. He dropped the rest of his baby fat, his cheekbones emerging from underneath his young skin. He cut his hair, and his long brown locks were suddenly gone, shaggy against his forehead. You had always thought Jungwon was beautiful, but suddenly, it seemed like the whole world thought the same thing.

You returned to senior year together, and the entire school began treating him like a different person. He received love notes in class, giggles and looks of desire as he walked down the hallways.

You were terrified that he would change upon receiving this newfound attention. But Jungwon never changed. He showed you off to his new friends, dripping praise. He took you to the parties he was suddenly invited to, and stayed by your side the entire night, even when beautiful girls approached him and asked him to dance. He told everyone he met that you were perfect, and nothing about you needed to change. And slowly, you began to believe it. At the same time, the world began to finally see you for who you were.

Jungwon was loyal. He knew he had found something special with you, and he never considered for a minute that he might abandon it. And despite rising in the ranks of high-school-high-society, he made sure you never felt left behind.

That was what you loved about him the most. He really never changed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Halloween was your favorite time of the year. After summer, of course. 

You loved the scary movies, the gaudy costumes, the foggy weather with golden leaves. Not to mention you were a horror connoisseur, which meant you knew exactly what movies to play to make Jungwon freak out. He wasn’t a big fan of scary things. 

But you loved Halloween, and Jungwon loved you, so he did too.

You sat in the back of your class, brainstorming your plans for the month. You were 19 now, Jungwon being a year older. You were in your sophomore year of college. It felt like an eternity ago that you spent those carefree summer days on the beach with the man you had now been dating for four years. 

You were a semester into the year already, and you generally got to know everyone in your class. But the door to the lecture hall swung open, and in walked a face you knew you had never seen before.

He was tall, very tall. It was the first thing you noticed; how he towered over the rest of the men. His face was striking, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked a little younger than yourself. It was as if he brought in an icy draft with him as he walked inside, and you rubbed your hands, suddenly a bit colder than before.

As he walked past your desk, he slowed. He looked at you briefly, before walking to the farthest seat in the class, setting down his bag and crossing his arms. He didn’t speak to anyone. You attempted to ignore him, taking out your notes. But something in your gut told you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you. You shook it off, too afraid to turn around lest he was staring again.

But when you inevitably did, he didn’t break eye contact.

You were a bit shaken by your interaction with the mysterious boy.

He intrigued you. Since you started dating Jungwon, you viewed thinking about other men as a kind of unrepentable crime. You had always been the kind of person who saved their heart for only one person. The lecture hall was almost empty by now, and you packed your bag. Only after a moment did you notice you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” he said. You startled, turning around to meet the eyes of the very boy you had just been thinking about.

“Oh, hi.” you said, attempting to be casual.

“I’m Riki. What’s your name?” he asked curiously, and you indulged him.

“I’m y/n.” you responded, unsure of how to introduce yourself, so you settled on reaching out a friendly hand. He stared at it for a moment, before laughing, shaking your hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Something about him was inexplicably charming. He had seemed cold and unapproachable when he first walked in, but you felt the warmth of his smile, heard the wind chimes of his soft laugh. “Today’s my first day here.”

“Ah, new transfer.” you said, chipper as you began walking down the stairs. He followed you, a step behind. “Welcome to Decelis University.”

“That’s the first greeting I’ve gotten.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nice to know I’m welcome.” You felt bad for him somehow. He was intimidating, that was for sure. With his angular face and dark energy, you bet people had been misjudging him.

“Of course. Always nice to meet a new student.”

“So, tell me about yourself.” you raised a brow at his odd question, but complied.

By the time you responded, you were in the halls, still walking together.

“Well, I’m a sophomore. I moved from Seoul, and I’m a psychology major. But I like literature.” you said, satisfied with your answer, confused when he shook his head.

“No, not that. Something real.” You considered it. Did you really want to tell something real to a man you had just met? It felt traitorous somehow.

“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it.” you responded, shrugging, and he smiled abstractedly at your answer. “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”

“Well, I’m a freshman. I just moved here a couple months ago from Osaka,” he added, and you nodded curiously. “I’m double majoring in forensic science and neuroscience, with a minor in psychology. Oh, and I like to paint.”

“Oh, an overachiever.” you said with amusement, and he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “I know your type.”

“Trust me, I don’t think you do.” he grinned, and you laughed. You didn’t realize how far you had been walking together, and suddenly you were in the courtyard, rapidly approaching your usual meeting spot with your boyfriend.

And he was there. He was smiling, excited to see you, but his expression dropped when he saw you walking with a man he had never seen before, a man with the face of an angel and the eyes of a devil.

“Shit, that’s my boyfriend.” you said, suddenly aware of Jungwon’s presence and hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression. Riki hummed, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, your boyfriend.” he said, enunciating the last word in a way you didn’t like.

“See you tomorrow Riki.” you said quickly, leaving his side to speedily walk to Jungwon, not waiting for a response. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Jungwon didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the boy standing a few yards away.

“Who’s that?” he asked, and you tried to discern the tone of his voice, unable to. “A new friend?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.

“Hardly. He just transferred to my class today. I barely remember his name.” you responded hastily, and Jungwon raised a brow. He chose to ignore any begrudging thoughts, placing his hand on the small of your back with a smile.

As you both turned away, Jungwon looked over his shoulder, gazing back into the eyes of the man behind you. He was still staring.

As a pair, you strode away to your favorite lunch spot. Jungwon didn’t want to think about this new boy, who he was, or what his intentions were. He assumed this was a confused freshman who needed help navigating the new school, and flocked to the nearest friendly smile and set of kind eyes.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this boy was going to be a very big problem.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon was upset.

He tried not to show it. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but he was. Underneath it all, he hated the idea of other men thinking about you the way he did.

Back in high school, a part of him regretted inviting you into his newfound popularity. You were beautiful. You were intelligent. You were funny. You had all the good qualities; the issue was that nobody but him could see them. By bringing you into the spotlight, suddenly everyone finally recognized you for what you were. And he quickly realized that he preferred when he was the only one that could see you.

But it made you confident, and certainly happier, which was all he cared about in the end. He let go of those resentments because he saw how much you loved being loved. You were a human being. He couldn’t be angry at that.

But this man, this new man, Jungwon didn’t trust him one bit. 

The truth was, Jungwon didn’t trust men at all. He thought men were loathsome, foul creatures. It was why he preferred spending his time with you. Every man he had ever met had some kind of twisted, sick problem on the inside. They just didn’t show it. But Jungwon saw it. He noticed the little things.

And his gut was telling him that this man was up to no good.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You worked at a charming American diner near your campus. Even with you and Jungwon both contributing to rent, you were barely able to afford your little apartment, so you took almost every shift you could.

You were surprised to see Riki walk into your restaurant.

“Hey.” he greeted you with a nod of his head, seating himself at a booth in the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all. “You work here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stumbled over your words. You were shocked that he had so easily managed to invade an intimate part of your life, but it was close to the college, and you shook it off, knowing he likely wanted a warm meal after a long night of classes. You glanced at your watch. You closed in twenty minutes. “What can I get for you?”

He rolled his shoulders, not bothering to look at the menu. “Oh, just get me whatever your favorite is.” You scrawled an order down on your notepad.

“So, how’d you end up in my restaurant?” you joked, and he shrugged casually.

“What can I say, I like American food.” you hummed, turning around to take his order to the kitchen. He followed you with his eyes, leaning back further in his seat.

You tucked the slip into the order wheel, hesitating  to go back as you observed the frantic kitchen. It wasn’t like you had anything against Riki, but he seemed like the type of guy you tried to stay away from in high school, and that combined with his apparent interest in you made you nervous. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend probably wasn’t fond of seeing you together.

“Your food.” you said, eventually deciding to return to Riki’s table. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the food.

“Sit down with me.” he requested, and you raised a brow at him. “Come on, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” he chuckled, gesturing at the nearly empty diner. It was now twelve minutes until closing time, and he was right, you had nothing else to do. So you took a seat.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked after a moment, looking pointedly at his food, which he hadn’t touched. He smiled, picking up a fork and taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he said, chewing. “But I’m more interested in talking to you.”

“And why is that?” you questioned with amusement. He shrugged.

“You’re interesting.” he replied, and you scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“So that’s why you’ve been bothering me?” He put a hand over his heart.

“Ouch. That wounds me. I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain a mild smile. He noticed, and smiled as well.

“Sure. We’re friends.” you said, resting your chin on your palm as you propped your arm up on the table. “So, you like American food?”

“Sure,” he said, not seeming very opinionated on the matter. “I was more drawn in by the ambiance. It’s a nice place.” He was right. It was a nice diner, with checkered floors, vintage movie posters, and intimate little booths. You were suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the romantic atmosphere, and swallowed dryly.

“Yeah, I agree. The ambience is kinda the whole appeal.”

“So you like nice restaurants.” His gaze was intense, and the way it drew you in made you uncomfortable. His charisma felt dangerously sharp, like a knife.

“That’s one way to say it.” you said. He grinned.

“So when can I take you out to one?” your amused expression dropped.

“That’s not funny.”

“It isn’t?” he said innocently, and you stood up, a hand lingering on the table before you glanced at your watch. Luckily your shift was over, and you had an excellent excuse to get out of this situation, and out from under his piercing eyes.

“My shift’s over. Goodnight, Riki.” you said firmly, untying your apron. He watched carefully as you strode quickly to the kitchen, ducking behind the metal doors.

You didn’t come back out, and after a moment of waiting, he left his money on the table and walked out the door, not bothering to finish his food.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki had been thinking about you all day.

He wasn’t sure what it was that attracted him, but he found you interesting. What he liked the most was that you were genuine. He had a good eye for superficial people, and you weren’t one of them. You meant everything that came out of your mouth.

Riki had been a heartbreaker in high school, and he planned on being the same in college. Not a week went by where his breakups didn’t scandalize the school, and that was just how he liked it. Some people thought he was a womanizer; he disagreed. He thought that attraction was power, and people should use it to their advantage.

The truth was, Riki wasn’t fond of men. He thought they were liars. Maybe he and Jungwon had something in common in that regard. He liked that women were honest, open with their emotions and intentions. Men hid their motivations, hid their secrets, hid everything. Riki was an open book. He told every girl whose heart he’d broken that it would end up badly.  And when it inevitably went wrong, he said I told you so.

And because Riki didn’t like men, he wanted to take things from them. When he found a man he didn’t trust, a man he knew was rotten, he robbed him of his worth. His happiness. His girlfriend. And he was going to do it again here, he was determined.

He didn’t trust your boyfriend. He may seem perfect on paper, but Riki could tell there was something rotting beneath the surface. Everyone had something to hide. And he was going to expose whatever your boyfriend was hiding. 

It’s what he always did.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you.

In his heart, he knew it was wrong. He had never not trusted you before, and he wasn’t sure what was happening to him. He was uneasy, anxious, and upset. Yesterday, the two of you had lunch and he barely touched his food. That night, he didn’t sleep.

It wasn’t like guys hadn’t pursued you before. In the past four years, boys would hit on you at parties, in class, even on your dates. He’d tell them to scram, and then you’d laugh about it together afterward. It had never bothered him when other guys were interested in you; if anything, it made him more proud of himself for being with you. In fact, he wasn’t even certain that this particular man was interested in you at all.

That was until he saw you having dinner together.

You were sitting in the corner booth. Through the foggy glass, Jungwon could see his face, smiling. His eyes were crescent moons as he chuckled at something you said, neither of you eating, just speaking. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling back at him, and he wanted to know desperately.

When he saw you get up and go to the kitchen, he checked the time on his watch. Your shift was over, which meant he needed to get a move on, and he shoved his hands in his pockets before speeding in the direction of your shared apartment.

He felt horrible about what he had just done. He knew he was your boyfriend, but watching you without you knowing felt like a crime. He walked with a pit in his stomach, anxious to beat you home. He didn’t want you to know he had been acting strangely.

He trusted you. He trusted you with his entire heart, as he had been for the past four years, without regret.

But could he trust the people around you?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was back in your diner, as he had been every day for the past week. You had given up on lecturing him about righteousness; clearly he didn’t care. You just served him his food, and as usual, he asked you to sit down with him.

The scent of sweet violet, cedarwood, and a little cigarette smoke filled the air as you sat across from him, and you found it extremely pleasant.

“New cologne?’ you asked. You didn’t like that this was becoming routine for the two of you, but you engaged anyway.

“You noticed,” he said happily. “Yeah, it’s new. You like it?” You looked out the window, resting your chin on your hand as you attempted to ignore him.

“It’s nice.” you grumbled, and he smiled in satisfaction.

He was Jungwon’s complete opposite. He was demanding, flirty, and charming in an aggressive way. His voice was deep and smooth, unlike Jungwon’s soft lilt. He was sweet, but not kind. Jungwon was the kindest boy you had ever met.

He forked a bite of food for himself before chewing in satisfaction. “So, are you ready to answer?”

“Answer what?” you asked, bemused.

“I told you I wanted to hear something real about you.” you laughed, recalling your first conversation, and it seemed like an eternity ago.

“You go first.” you suggested, and to your surprise, he obliged.

“Well, that’s a tough question. I suppose something real about me is that I don’t believe in love.” You raised a brow incredulously.

“Why is that?”

“Not sure. I just never have.”

“Something must have happened to convince you love wasn’t real.” He considered telling you, but his brain resisted. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts to you. Sharing his secrets would mean opening himself up to be vulnerable, and Riki hated being vulnerable. You sensed his hesitation, saying; “You can tell me.”

And despite himself, he told you.

“My parents never really loved each other.” he said simply, and you frowned. “For as long as I can remember, they’ve been cold to each other. Sometimes they fight. Violently.” He sighed, and you felt pity welling up in your chest. “I guess I don’t believe in love because I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t think human beings are capable of loving each other forever.”

“I’m sorry, Riki.” you said, and he shook his head, looking away. “But you’re wrong.” His eyes drifted to yours, and he raised a brow. “Love exists. Deep down, everyone has love in their heart.”

“People spend their entire lives chasing for love, and they still don’t find it.”

“That’s because love is work. Everyone has the potential to find it one day. You just have to start looking.” Your words touched him. He had never considered that love was something he had to work for, not just a concept that was driven by fate.

“Agree to disagree.” he snorted, and you shrugged, taking a bite of his food.

“There’s love everywhere.”

Instead of running away at the end of your shift, this time you allowed him to walk you out. The two of you strode into the cold night, you shivering in your tee shirt.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you shook your head, covering your waist with your arms in an attempt to warm up. Wordlessly, he pulled off his jacket and hung it over your shoulders. You glared at him, but accepted it. From the pocket of his jeans, he removed a pack of red Marlboros, slipping a cigarette out of the packet. “Smoke?” he asked, and you shook your head. He propped the cigarette in between his lips.

“You’re a bit young to smoke, aren’t you?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Every teenager has a bit of fun. Even if they’re not supposed to.” you smiled.

He was a total cliche. The leather jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, flirtatious rebel that flirted as easily as he breathed. And somehow, despite hating that overplayed trope, you found it endearing when it was him.

“Hey, Riki?” you said, and he hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m actually glad we became friends.”

“Friends?” he said, blowing smoke as his lips curled into a smile, leaning against the wall, a mere couple of feet away from you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he looked ethereal under the moonlight. “We’re not gonna be friends.”

You were about to respond when someone called your name.

Your eyes widened in fright as you turned to see Jungwon standed a few paces behind you, his breath visible in the fall climate. He looked upset, his pockets in his hands as his brows furrowed.

“Jungwon?” You quickly moved away from Riki. “What are you doing here?”

“My shift ended early, I thought I’d surprise you.” he was speaking to you, but his eyes weren’t on you; they were on Riki. He didn’t falter, taking another drag of his cigarette as he watched silently. “But I see you’re busy.”

“No, not at all.” you said nervously, taking Jungwon’s hand from inside of his pocket. “I just finished working. Let’s go home.” Jungwon didn’t respond, just turning around, your hand slipping out of his as he strode away from you.

“See you tomorrow.” Riki called after you when you didn’t bid him farewell, and you turned around to give him a glare, before dashing after your displeased boyfriend.

Riki was already making cracks in the foundation of your relationship. And that was exactly what he wanted.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were wearing his jacket.

Jungwon was certain of it. After two years of living together, he knew your closet inside out; and he had never seen this jacket. The sleeves were too long for you, and they protruded just past your fingers. Jungwon could kill a man. Specifically, that man. After a moment of walking in agonizing silence, he spoke up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” His cold tone chilled you to the core. You had never really seen Jungwon mad. Sure, you had your fair share of fights, every couple did, but they occurred strangely infrequently. “Who is that guy?”

“Just a classmate.”

“Why was he at your job?” You weren’t sure what degree of the truth you should tell him. You didn’t want him to think you were being unfaithful, that wasn’t it at all.

“He just likes the food, Jungwon.” That wasn’t technically a lie.

“I think he likes more than the food.” Jungwon was refusing to look at you. You had never seen him this put-out over something you did. You wondered if you had done something very wrong by being around Riki.

We’re not gonna be friends, you remembered his words. The smile on his face when he said them, how he sounded like he really meant it.

“Look, he’s just an underclassman. He’s new, just moved here. I’m pretty much his only friend.” Jungwon scoffed.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“He likes you.”

“But I don’t like him.” You stopped walking and tugged on Jungwon’s sleeve, and for the first time he looked you in the eyes. They were dull, a stark contrast to the usual youthful shine of his eyes. “Jungwon. I only care about you.”

“That can change.”

“No, it can’t.” You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, and you saw his gaze soften. “I’ve loved you faithfully for four years. That’s not going to stop now.” He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, removing your hand from his face. But he took your hand in his, which you took as a sign that everything would be okay. You looked into each other's eyes, cold air flushing your faces until it began to rain lightly.

“I’m not mad at you.” he said after a moment, his hair dampening from the rain, clinging to his forehead. 

You brushed it away from his face and resumed your walk in silence.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You couldn’t be friends with Riki anymore.

You told this to Jungwon, who seemed more content than he had been in the past week. You, however, had a pit in your stomach.

You didn’t know why, but the thought that you would never see Riki again bothered you. His messy hair, proud smile, the scent of his smoky cologne. You weren’t certain why Riki had suddenly become important to you, but you knew it was wrong.

“So, your boyfriend told you you couldn’t see me anymore.” he said, holding his jacket in his hand. It still smelled like his cologne, and a bit like you, and he held it tightly between his fingers. He was frowning, and you realized this was the first time you had seen him without a smug expression on his face.

“No.” you replied. “I decided myself.” He sighed.

“That’s disappointing.”

“C’mon, Riki. You’re pursuing me. I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong.”

“That’s the great thing about life. It’s all about doing what feels right, even if it’s wrong.” he said elusively, and you frowned at him. “You should do what you want.”

“This is what I want.” You could smell his cologne everywhere, that stupid violet and cigarette smoke. It was distracting you from your thoughts.

“I don’t believe that.” You knew he was right, but his obstinance was pissing you off. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t care what you believe. It was nice being friends with you.” you readied yourself to leave, turning when he called after you.

“I told you,” he smiled for the first time during your conversation. “We were never going to be friends.”

It weighed heavy on your mind, but you had other things to worry about.

There was a party this weekend that you and Jungwon would be attending. Parties had never really been your thing, but a part of both of you missed the drunken fun of your time in high school, so when invited, you decided to go together.

It was being thrown by some boy in your year, a man named Jake who was infamous for his ragers, where people would fight to get in, and leave not remembering how they got there. Jungwon was friends with him, and assured you it’d be worth the while, which you hoped was true.

You pulled an old dress out of retirement, a lacy pink number that you hadn’t worn since Jungwon got it for your anniversary a year ago. There was something exciting about bringing it out of your closet, like a new start.

As you put on your earrings, facing the mirror, he circled your waist.

“You look beautiful.” he said, and you turned to kiss him, a chaste kiss that lingered on your lips. You looked back in the mirror, and you weren’t smiling.

Something about this situation felt extremely wrong, and you didn’t know why.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Despite the hectic environment of the party, you actually felt at peace for the first time in the past two weeks. The music was beating in your ribs like a pounding heart, and smoke furled through the air as college students went to-and-fro. Jungwon and you did shots in the kitchen, hands intertwining as you poured vodka down your throat, a burning sensation on your tongue. After a couple more, you were ready to dance. 

Jungwon pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor by the hand, and the two of you swayed to the music together. You caught glimpses of faces you recognized, but in this moment, it was just you and him. Locking eyes, twirling and laughing as you erratically danced to the pounding beat of the music.

Eventually, Jungwon got dragged away by a friend of his named Jake, a classmate that he had grown quite close with. You were alone, but you didn’t mind.

You had never been the kind of person to be embarrassed to dance. You felt like yourself when you were dancing, and you didn’t care what company you had; you just enjoyed the feeling of being free underneath the spell of the music.

And then, the crowds shifted, and everything felt still.

There he was. Alone in the center of the floor, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, his free hand moving with the music as he danced rhythmically to the music. Girls tried to dance with him, but he deftly avoided them. The way he moved was entrancing; you had never seen him look so light and airy, as he swayed and rocked, not caring about the people around him. You should’ve known he would be there, you could smell his cologne from a mile away, and suddenly it flooded your senses.

He turned, and as he did, he caught sight of you. His mouth curled into a smile as he continued dancing, and you just watched.

“Come dance with me.” he said to you through the crowds, and though his voice was quiet, you swore it reverberated over the sound of the music. As if in a trance, you walked to him, weaving through hordes of people. Were you drunk, or was he more beautiful than usual?

“What are you doing here?” you asked the instant you reached him.

“Am I not allowed to be here?” he replied. He didn’t stop dancing as he spoke to you, and you felt odd standing still. But you couldn’t bring yourself to dance.

“They usually haze the freshmen.” He gestured to himself with a shrug.

“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” You didn’t know what to say. A mere two days after swearing you wouldn’t speak to him again, you had already broken your promise to yourself, and you cursed yourself for it. “C’mon, you’re not having any fun. Dance.”

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” he said, but he paid no bother, continuing to dance on his own. You felt the eyes of the people around you as you spoke to him, some jealous, some curious, some judgemental. “Why do you care what people think?” You startled, wondering for a second if he was able to read your mind.

“I don’t.”

“If you didn’t, you’d be dancing with me right now.” He was right. That was the most frustrating thing about him; although he may be self-centered and smug, he was always right. Everything he said about you was as accurate as if he knew you for years.

So, to spite him, you danced.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you dance while he was talking to Jake. He liked Jake, he really did, but he found his attention drifting from his conversation to you, swaying carelessly to the beat with a smile on your face.

“Your girlfriend’s cute.” Jake said, gesturing to you with his cup, clearly able to tell that his companion was distracted.Jungwon sighed, pouring himself another hefty drink. He filled it to the brim with rum and orange juice. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, well, she’s cute. That’s the problem.” Jungwon took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose at the harsh flavor. “Some guy from one of her classes has been all over her. Some younger dude.”

“The constant struggle of being someone’s boyfriend.” Jake said, clapping him on the back. Jungwon chuckled, taking another sip. “But try not to stress about it, man. You’ve been together for what, four years now?” Jungwon nodded in confirmation. “She’s only got her eyes on you. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Jungwon said, feeling a bit lighter, and a considerable amount woozier. He poured himself another drink despite himself, attempting to tune out the sound of the music. Suddenly, it was too loud, and everything was a little bit too much.

When he looked up, his heart had dropped to his stomach. You were no longer dancing, and it felt as if a spotlight was shining on the man in the center of the dance floor, his hair gloriously messy from the moving crowds, face red from dancing and alcohol. You were speaking, he could tell from the way your lips opened and closed.

Jungwon was seeing red. He felt as though the air was being choked out of him, and he struggled to take a deep breath to center himself. The alcohol felt like acid pumping through his veins as he stared at the two of you through the crowd, buzzing like a live wire. He was angry, but most of all, scared. If you had gone back so easily on your devotion, did that mean something? Did this man mean something to you?

“Jungwon?” Jake called his name but he barely heard it, crumpling his cup and throwing it into the trash as he stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.

Jungwon had been sitting outside on the stairs for nearly ten minutes, and he had managed to cool off.

He had never been so angry in his life. Jungwon wasn’t an angry person, he never had been. He had always been calm and collected, bottling up any rage or resentment he felt until it subsided. But that rage was brewing within him like an overflowing pot, and something about this man brought it out of him.

The smell of cigarette smoke flooded his senses, and he turned. Behind him was the last person he wanted to see, smoking a Marlboro, and Jungwon wondered how he didn’t hear him come outside. His face was still flushed from dancing, and his lips were tinged with the faintest trace of pink lipstick, smudged messily across his mouth.

Jungwon had stood up to go inside when Riki addressed him, saying;

“Hey.” Jungwon didn’t respond. “Looking for your girlfriend?”

“You really get under my skin.” Jungwon grumbled, and Riki smiled. He should handle this like a mature adult, he knew that. So he attempted to. “I would like it if you’d just leave me and y/n alone.”

“Come on, Jungwon. You know that’s not gonna happen.” He tossed the stub of his cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jungwon didn’t remember telling him his name at any point during their conversation.

“Why,” Jungwon started to speak, feeling like bile was rising in his throat. “Why, out of all girls, does it have to be my girlfriend?” Riki crossed his arms with a smile.

“Because I see her for what she is.” That tipped Jungwon over the edge. He could no longer have this conversation, he couldn’t handle it. He strode to the front door, pulling it open as he rushed into the crowds. “Oh, c’mon,” Riki’s voice haunted him as he followed him inside. “Let’s talk, man to man. I’ll pour you a drink.”

“Get away from me.” Jungwon poured himself another cup and chugged it. He was going to find you, and he was going to end this. He had to end it somehow.

“Let’s not be enemies. It’s just friendly competition.” Riki said.

“What does my girlfriend see in you?” The alcohol was speaking for him now, and he slammed his empty cup on the table. Riki gestured to the dance floor with a smile, and only then did Jungwon realize that the crowds were watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

You were watching Jungwon from the dance floor, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. You were frozen in fear, shaking as you brought a hand up to your lip while Riki snickered. The sound of his laughter faded into the background as Jungwon noticed your smudged pink lipstick.

His fist was in connection with Riki’s face before he could even think about it.

He heard you scream in the background but paid no mind, the crowds chanting ‘fight!’ as the two men tussled. Riki was tall, but Jungwon was stronger. Riki’s mouth spurted blood as Jungwon landed a punch on his face with a sickening crack.

Jungwon’s hand found the counter somehow, and his hand latched onto the handle of a knife, unsheathing it without thinking. Only when he whipped it in Riki’s direction and the crowd gasped in unison did his head clear, and he dropped it, his opponent barely able to kick it away from him in his weakened state. 

He wanted to kill him. For a moment, he was truly prepared to kill him, and he almost did.

Jungwon was so shocked with himself that the younger boy was able to pry himself away from his grip, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth.

“Psychopath.” he spat blood, grabbing his jacket from the floor where it had been pulled off, swinging it over his shoulder as he removed another cigarette. But as he walked out the door, he smiled, an ugly smile of sharp teeth and blood.

He had found it. That rotten part of your boyfriend, the reason he didn’t trust him in the first place. He had exposed it, and you had seen the side of him that you didn’t know existed.

He had a feeling that Jungwon didn’t even know that side of himself.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Everyone’s eyes were on Jungwon. You weren’t sure what to say as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend. You were terrified. The boy you were in love with had almost stabbed the life out of another person.

You attempted to rationalize it, desperately. You had just publicly cheated on him, and it must’ve been an uncharacteristic display of anger. You’d be angry too if you were him, maybe enough to kill. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Let’s go.” you managed to say to him, and he brushed himself off, his head low as he roughly pushed through the crowds of people to get to the exit.

Fresh air felt like salvation as he heaved in as much into his lungs as he could. His head was beginning to clear, the adrenaline and rum wearing off as he stood facing the nearly empty streets, hands in his pockets.

“Jungwon,” you began, but he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” he said hollowly, and you bit your tongue, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “Don’t cry, y/n. I can’t take it.”

“It just happened.” you said in a weak defense, and he shook his head again.

You felt hesitant sitting in the front seat with him, but he made no moves to stop you, just reversing the car roughly and pulling out into the street.

It was a silent ride. The kind of silence that made you wonder if the two of you would ever speak again, and you were suddenly struck with the fear that four years may be over in one night. Because of one moment, because of one person.

“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes were firmly set on the road, refusing to look at you. He sighed, hands trembling on the wheel.

“I don’t know.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon hadn’t spoken to you for two days.

It was hard to avoid each other, considering you lived in the same apartment. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t spoken a single word in your direction since you betrayed him two nights previous. And judging from how many times he’d ignored you despite pleas for his attention, he seemed to have no intention of stopping.

You didn’t know what to do, but you couldn’t stand the silence.

“Are you going to leave me?” you finally asked, choking down tears as you sat on the couch. Jungwon was in the kitchen, doing nothing but avoiding you.

“I don’t know.” Jungwon finally spoke, his voice a whisper. Tears began flowing freely from your eyes. “I really don’t know.”

“I know I can’t convince you of anything.” you surrendered, silent sobs escaping your mouth as you cried. “I won’t tell you to stay.”

“I love you, y/n.” Your heart warmed despite your sadness. “More than anything in this god forsaken world. I can’t bear being around you after what you did. But being without you sounds infinitely worse.”

“So what do we do?” He liked that you said ‘we’. It made him feel like you were a team despite what you had put him through. He set down the knife he was holding, his hands trembling as he looked at you. He could barely stand to see you cry.

“We wait.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It turns out that Riki was the kind of person who fell deeply. He hadn’t been in love his entire life; he hadn’t even believed it existed until a few weeks ago. To him, love was a myth, as imaginary as unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. It was a concept, not a reality. But that’s the thing about not believing in love; when it hits you, it hits hard. And Riki’s mind was racing with radical thoughts, and mostly images of you.

He had called you twelve times since the party, and you hadn’t picked up once. You didn’t show up to class on Monday. Your boss claimed you called out of work sick when he went to visit the diner.

You were avoiding him. And in his mind, that was the worst possibility. But he wasn’t concerned; he would find you. He would always find you.

He just had to find out where you lived. And to do that he had to find you, which was seeming to be difficult. So he’d do the next best thing.

He would find your boyfriend.

It was difficult to find out anything about Jungwon from the internet. He didn’t seem to have a strong social media presence, but after a bit of searching, he found an account with a small following that seemed to match him. From there, he deduced that Jungwon worked at a tech company with a man named Jay, whose profile indicated that the name of it was Enhypen SK. A quick search told him that its headquarters were located downtown. Riki got into his car.

He rolled a crick out of his neck. He had been waiting outside of the building for hours, watching men and women come in and out, in and out. He sat in the front seat of his car, chair reclined as he observed with unrelenting eyes. Finally, there he was.

Brown hair flying in the wind, a cup of coffee in his shaking hand, the contents spilling over the edge as he walked across the street, holding his jacket above his head to cover himself from the rain. Riki could almost laugh at the perfect businessman cliche.

The building wasn’t on a particularly crowded street. There were no cameras monitoring the traffic, as few cars drove down the road. Riki realized with growing delight that there was nobody in sight but him. And Jungwon.

He was on the curb. Riki put his car into drive. The light turned red. Riki peeled out of his parking spot. Jungwon was in the center of the crosswalk.

Riki accelerated.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You dropped the phone when the hospital told you your boyfriend had been run over by a car. You didn’t have time to think, abandoning the meal you were making, the stove still burning as you snatched your keys off the table and ran out the door without a second’s hesitation.

He thankfully wasn’t dead. They didn’t catch who did it, and Jungwon wouldn’t tell them, if he knew. He had a concussion. Two of his ribs were mildly fractured. He was bleeding internally, but it luckily wasn’t fatal. He had burns along his leg from hot fuel, and a facial laceration from rolling over the shattered windshield, a cut running from the edge of his eyebrow to the apple of his cheek.

The doctors were shocked he was even alive. The perpetrator had hit him at 45 mph, and he rolled over the entire car before hitting the ground. He laid unconscious in the street for 20 minutes, and had to crawl across the street to call for help, refusing to die. Considering his situation, he was lucky; he should’ve been dead.

According to the nurses, he had fought to leave the hospital immediately. He had jumped out of bed the minute he gained consciousness, which shouldn’t have been possible in his state. Only when they demanded he stay did he ask them to call you, and even then, he tried to leave constantly, surprisingly mobile and alert despite being presumed dead.

The staff thought he was a monster.

You ran into his arms the first chance you got, despite the protest from the nurse caring for him. You cried into his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.

“I was afraid you died.” you sobbed, and he shushed you soothingly.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, Jungwon. You don’t deserve this.” He had the feeling you were talking about more than just the car accident. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said, staring at the wall as he held you more tightly. When you released him, you checked him for damage, holding his hand in yours.

Besides burns, bruises, and the cuts on his cheek, he seemed surprisingly fine. He was sitting upright, speaking clearly, seemingly fine. But he was staring blankly at you. You saw nothing in his eyes, not a shred of hope, relief, or fear. Nothing, just dull brown marbles in the sockets of his eyes before he turned away from you.

“Who did this?” you asked shakily, and he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t know.” he responded. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, maybe lying out of pride or embarrassment. But you weren’t going to ask, not when he was in this state. “You know, I realized something. When I got hit by that car.” You scooted closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face. It was matted with sweat to his forehead.

“What was it?” you asked gently when he didn’t continue.

“They were right. Your life does flash before your eyes when you almost die.” he said quietly. “And you know, all I saw was you. My entire life, in one blink of an eye. That’s when I realized,” He looked at you. “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to anything.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you said, blinking away more tears.

“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “I forgive you. For everything you did. I don’t care about any of it.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it. All that matters is that I have you.” His grip on your hand tightened, and you pursed your lips, pulling him into an embrace. He was cold as ice.

“I’m just happy I still have you with me.” you said hoarsely.

“I’m never going to let anything tear us apart. Never.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon knew exactly who hit him with that car.

He would recognize that face anywhere, even in a brief moment, in a mere second of terror before impact. A flash of those devilish eyes through the windshield. They were the eyes that haunted him, sleeping and waking. And he was determined to get revenge.

This man had changed him. He no longer recognized himself. He looked in the mirror and saw a man haunted by hatred, by anger, and by violence. In his many years of life, he had never despised someone enough to hurt them, and yet every part of him was itching to kill. This was a pest, one that Jungwon was sure to exterminate.

He wasn’t going to tell you anything, no, it would only stress you out. As a couple, you had been through enough recently, and he didn’t want anything else on your plate. You had enough to worry about, with him practically incapacitated.

You visited him every day in the hospital. You slept by his bedside, barely going to class or to your job, just holding his hand as nurses tended to him, doctors flitting in and out of his room. He only had three days left in the hospital until he was discharged. 

But he couldn’t wait.

You were dead asleep on the chair beside his bed, your eyes shifting underneath their lids. The room was empty. He ripped the IV out of his arm, getting to his feet.

Under any other circumstances, he shouldn’t have been able to walk. But Jungwon felt stronger than he ever had as he walked through the halls barefoot, his hospital gown fluttering in the wind like a ghost. He walked out of the hospital doors unnoticed, the concrete scraping against his bare feet as he started the walk home.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon owned a gun. It was something he never shared with you; he knew you despised violence. But he was a paranoid person by nature and the idea of a home invader, serial killer, a stalker, frightened him enough to need protection, a Colt Mustang XSP stored securely under the bottom panel of his bedside table. He needed to protect you; it was his god given duty. Fate had brought you together, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

He used whatever strength he had to remove the panel of wood, feeling around until his hand reached the hollow barrel of the gun.

Jungwon was a good shot. His father had taken him to a shooting range once a month from the ages of 10 to 18, god knows why. But he noticed something quickly about himself; he always hit the target.

One time, the supervisor at the range had told him he saw something dark in him. He had said Jungwon might not show it, but once in a while, when he was holding that gun, he could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t a good feeling, to hear that as a 16 year old. But now, he was beginning to consider the possibility.

Besides what you had told him, he knew virtually nothing about Riki. He didn’t know his dreams, his accomplishments, his past, not even his age. This didn’t bother Jungwon, in fact, it made him more relieved than anything. The less he knew, the better. It would make it all easier.

And now it was time to visit the little pest.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was disappointed. In you, for ignoring him. In himself, for not finishing the job. And mostly in Jungwon, for refusing to die. He hit him at 45 miles per hour, that should’ve killed him. When he visited the hospital under the guise that he was his cousin, they told him he was bleeding internally, that it might be fatal. And yet, he was alive. He knew it for a fact; Riki waited outside the hospital until you showed up. And you didn’t leave, you never left. Which meant Jungwon was still in there.

It seemed like Jungwon would need something more fatal, which was upsetting. It was the perfect set up; the street was empty, there were no cameras, no witnesses. Jungwon wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Riki prayed that Jungwon didn’t recognize him, if he did, he’d surely tell you. Then he’d really lose you for good.

He was parked outside the hospital for the third day in a row, just waiting to catch you alone. He hoped your boyfriend was in a coma, maybe unable to speak, maybe mentally damaged. He rolled his shoulders, tense with worry and from sitting in the leather seat for so long. The hood of his old silver car was bent from the impact of Jungwon’s body slamming against it, and his license plate was barely hanging on for dear life. He didn’t pay attention to it.

The only thing he cared about was ending him for good.

On the other side of the city, Jungwon had just walked into the housing office of his university. The door creaked as he forced it open, his shoes clicking on the tile floor. He knew a man who worked in the office, a friend of his who played secretary at the front desk. That was the nice thing about being a good person; you make connections everywhere you go.

“Sunghoon.” Jungwon said, and his voice was hollow. The man looked up from his keyboard, pushing his glasses up his forehead with a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I need a favor.” Sunghoon was immediately concerned with Jungwon’s appearance. He had changed from his gown into normal clothes, but the open cut on his face and the bags under his eyes told the story of what had happened to him. Bruises were littered across his right cheek, and a part of his hair was singed, just below the ear, barely noticeable. He stumbled on his left leg when he walked and he held his ribs tightly with one of his hands.

“Are you okay?” Sunghoon asked with concern.

“I got hit by a car.” he said, and Sunghoon frowned.

“Jesus.” “I need an address.” Sunghoon gestured for him to continue. He knew he wasn’t supposed to give away information like this, but Jungwon was trustworthy. Throughout their friendship, he had shown he was a kind man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Freshman named Riki Nishimura.” Sunghoon’s fingers flew across his keyboard.

“Edge of town. Building code is 3405, apartment 2.” Sunghoon recited off the screen, his glasses back on his nose as he read.

“Thanks.” Jungwon said, turning on his heel.

“Don’t you want me to write it down for you?” Sunghoon called after him, and he waved him off, swinging the door open.

“I’ll remember it.”

And he did. Twenty minutes later, he was parked outside.

It was the kind of apartment that had separate units and entrances. The other three apartments seemed completely empty, and the neighborhood seemed practically deserted, if you could even call it a neighborhood. There were two houses down the road, one of which was boarded up, the other was for sale. Then a dead end, the street abruptly stopping in brick and barbed wire. It was good for Jungwon’s situation. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to hear what he was about to do.

He got out of his car, hand deep in the recesses of his jacket. He rapped on the door, once, twice, thrice. Then he removed the gun from the waistline of his pants, cocking it in a fluid motion and shooting off the lock.

Metal scraps exploded across the steps of the apartment, and the doorknob hung loosely from its socket, the metal lock missing a keyhole, replaced with a burning hot cavity. Jungwon turned the doorknob, and the door swung open easily.

“House call,” he said, his voice echoing around the empty apartment. “Anyone home?” He peeked his head into the kitchen, the living room. Nobody. His free hand fingered the case of bullets in his jacket pocket. He brought the gun for intimidation only; he didn’t think Riki would be stupid enough to make him use it. But he had 17 rounds left in the magazine of his pistol, and he was planning to spend them all if necessary.

It didn’t seem like Riki was home. Jungwon cracked his neck, irritated. He had run out of the hospital on injured legs and a fractured rib, just to be disappointed. He wondered where Riki could possibly be, and hoped he wasn’t anywhere near you. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his gun by his side. He had 27 missed calls and 45 missed texts, and they were all from you. He tucked it away, trying to push the thought of you out of his head.

He was doing this for you. You’d understand that.

While he was there, he figured he might as well look around. After all, Riki didn’t seem to be home, and he had gone through the effort of blowing off his locks. He creeped up the stairs cautiously, careful to keep his gun ahead of him before he took a step. On the right, there was a bathroom, grimy in the way expected of a teenage boy. On the left was Riki’s room. His closet was the largest thing in the room, stacked to the brim with clothing. It seemed like Riki preferred designer brands over an expensive apartment, and Jungwon pocketed a silver watch sitting on his bedside table.

There was only one more room at the end of the hall. Its door stood slightly ajar, and he could see beams of sun hitting the chestnut floor through the slit. Jungwon walked cautiously towards it, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he pushed the door open.

His eyes widened, pupils dilated. He instinctively took a step back, his gun clattering to the floor as his gaze flitted from the ceiling to the floor, wall to wall. He recoiled from the room, as if it would infect him, shivering with fear. He hadn’t seen anything like this. Not from anyone.

Jungwon’s own eyes watched him from every corner of the room. Photos of himself lined the walls, sporadically pasted against the blue wallpaper. Some were photos he had taken of himself, some that you had taken, accessible through his socials. But the vast majority were photos he had never seen, taken from afar of him at the grocery store inspecting a peach, chatting with a classmate in class, working at his job, his face lit up by his computer on the second floor.

And in the center of the room was you. Your face was painted on a canvas, big enough to almost reach Jungwon’s height, painted intricately with the hand of someone who truly loved their subject. It was as if you were alive and breathing before him, and for a minute, he admired you despite himself. Scrawled at the bottom of the canvas were a mere five words;

I have to save her.

Jungwon was horrified. He felt sick to his stomach with the sudden urge to vomit, and he attempted to control himself, breathing shallowly as he bent to pick up his gun. He aimed it shakily, and it was the first time he trembled while holding a pistol in his hands. He fired ten rounds, each scarring the wall as they tore through the canvas.

Your face was a mess of torn paper and sizzling paint when he was done, and it pained him to see. Jungwon grit his teeth, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants as he turned around to exit this god forsaken house.

Now Riki really had to die.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki arrived home, and the first thing he noticed was the ten bullets sitting underneath the window of his painting room. If he had walked past just a bit faster, if he wasn’t looking at the ground, he would’ve missed them. But he didn’t, and he bent down to pick them up, the casings barely still warm. When he looked up, there were ten matching holes in the wall. He was immediately on high alert.

When he removed his keys from his pocket, he quickly realized he didn’t need them. Shards of protruding metal, burnt black at the edges, became what once was the lock to his door. The wooden door was ajar, and he opened it as quietly as possible.

He slipped off his shoes at the door, his footsteps silent as he walked through his home. His living room and kitchen looked completely untouched. His nerves burning with fear, Riki reached for a knife, his trembling hands gripping the handle as the metal glinted in whatever dim daylight remained as the sun began to fall below the horizon.

The stairs moaned under his feet as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had even entered his home; everything was the way he left it. But when he opened the door to that room, he felt like he could cry.

Ten bullet holes. Ten scarred, singed cavities in your gaping face, the canvas torn and burned until you were completely unrecognizable.

His art. The only thing he had been living for. It was destroyed, and he knew exactly who to blame. Tears ran down his face as he approached it, the knife forgotten in his hand while he caressed the mutilated canvas.

I have to save her. Those scrawled words remained untouched at the bottom of his creation, and he ran his hand over them. They rang true.

If Jungwon did this, and Riki knew he did, then he was dangerous. And that meant he had to save you before you ended up like the shredded painting he had so devoutly adored.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had fled the hospital without warning at 5:32 pm. It was 9:00 pm, and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend

You were worried sick. He was hurt, too hurt to be wandering the streets, getting into fights, doing whatever he was doing. You checked his work, but they hadn’t caught sight of him since he left, on the day he was almost killed. None of his teachers had heard from him, nor had his friends. You must’ve called him a hundred times, and not once did he pick up. So, despite yourself, you did the only thing you could think of.

It’s not like you couldn’t guess who’d hit your boyfriend with their car. Jungwon’s unwillingness to tell you about the accident was an immediate red flag, not to mention his sudden switch in attitude. His workplace was in an isolated, corporate area where not many people drove, and it seemed too convenient to be an accident. Not many people had a vendetta against Jungwon, he was too kind to have enemies; except one.

He picked up on one ring, and the other side of the phone was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Riki,” you said, attempting to stabilize your trembling voice. “Let’s meet.”

Riki didn’t ask any questions. He agreed without hesitation, and a part of you almost felt bad. After all, what if he didn’t hit him? What if you were wrong?

But you couldn’t afford to doubt yourself, and you tucked a canister of pepper spray into your pocket before grabbing your keys and running downstairs. In case Jungwon was in trouble, you didn’t have any time to waste.

You were so distracted, you had even forgotten it was Halloween.

You had asked Riki to meet you across town. You knew there was a large construction lot a couple miles behind your school, where nobody ever visited, rarely even the construction workers, especially not at this hour. You needed to get him in a place where nobody would hear you. If he was willing to admit anything that had happened between him and Jungwon, he wouldn’t do it in front of an audience.

You could feel his presence before you saw him. When you heard his slow footsteps through the soft, unpaved ground, it felt like the world had gone black. Something in him had changed. You used to feel joy and love at the sound of his voice and the scent of his cologne, but now it made you uneasy. 

“Y/n?” he said, and you saw the dark silhouette morph into his fine features and unkempt hair as he stepped closer. He stopped a few paces away from you, and you attempted to smile.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into his arms, and you were swimming in his leather jacket, his grip almost painful. The scent of violets and cigarettes drowned you. You felt like you could throw up.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” his voice trembled as he spoke, and you gradually wrapped your arms around him. “Where have you been?”

“The hospital.” you said, your voice a whisper. He released you, and the confused look in his eyes was almost enough to convince you he was innocent. “Jungwon…he got hit by a car.”

“Is he alright?”

“No. But we’ll be okay.” Riki didn’t like that you said ‘we’. It seemed you didn’t care if your boyfriend had almost killed him. It was like he didn’t matter to you.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” he asked in hushed tones.

“I didn’t know what to think.” You wiped away a tear, not even knowing you were crying. “After what happened that weekend-”

“He almost killed me.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” There was hurt in his eyes, and you didn’t recognize him. The smug, arrogant boy you had known was nowhere to be seen.

“How can you say that?” You shook your head, wiping away more tears. “I don’t care about him, y/n. We have something special.”

“Riki, I can’t.”

“Don’t I matter to you?” he implored, reaching for your hand, holding it tightly like he might not get the chance ever again. He wouldn’t.

“Of course you do. But Riki, I don’t love you.”

“That’s a lie!” he shouted, and the sudden switch in volume made you shudder in fear. “You do love me. You’re just afraid.”

“Of what, Riki? Of you? I’m not scared, I’m an adult, I know what I want. You’re just a confused boy who thinks he’s in love with a girl he can’t have.”

“That’s not true.” he said it so willfully, you almost believed him. “You don’t understand, you just don’t understand. Since I met you, you’re all I can think about. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I even-” He cut himself off. He froze, and the only sound was the cold wind as you two stared at each other.

“Even?” you whispered, and he set his jaw.

“I even tried to kill him.” 

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You had imagined a million possibilities in your relationship with Riki. You had imagined kicking him to the curb, indulging in his affections until he got bored, you even imagined leaving Jungwon for him. But in none of your fantasies had you believed him capable of murder.

Your eyes widened in terror, lips trembling, and he could sense your fear.

“Don’t be scared.” he said, coming closer, and you took a step back. “I’m not a killer, y/n. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you tried to.” you said, and his eyes darkened. “You tried to kill my boyfriend. You’re not in love with me, Riki, someone who loved me wouldn’t try to do that. That’s not love, it’s obsession.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You don’t know what you’re doing.” You grew closer to him, placing a warm hand against his cheek. “You have a life outside me. We’re young. Don’t waste your time chasing me and hurting people.”

“Don’t say that,” he repeated, his eyes red with suppressed tears. “I would do anything for you. I love you, I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” You attempted to pay attention to what he was saying, but a twig cracked in the background, drowned out by the sound of his words, but you were listening. You looked over his shoulder. “I can’t be away from you, y/n, I can’t take it.”

“Riki, I can’t be with you. Not now, not ever.”

“Is it because of Jungwon?” he asked, and you shook your head. “I don’t care who’s in my way. I’ll take care of it.”

A ghostly face appeared in the distance, just barely lit enough for you to recognize him. That scar on his face, those bright doe eyes turned dull, you knew that face anywhere. Riki continued to speak, and Jungwon put a silent finger over his mouth.

Something about this situation was wrong. You had this overwhelming sense of terror, and it had its claws around your lungs, draining you of all the breath and blood in your body. Every nerve and cell in your body was screaming, writhing restlessly in white hot pain. Jungwon stepped closer, and your shoulders shook fearfully.

“Riki. I don’t want you to hurt him.” you said, and Riki grabbed your face, his cold fingers gently gripping your chin.

“I don’t care.” he said, and his words cut you like a knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes. You belong with me.”

There was a barrel of a gun, and you felt a strangled scream rising in your throat when you saw that Jungwon was holding it. And the edge of it was directly pointed at the back of Riki’s head.

You tried to scream, you tried to warn him, but there was no time. You dropped to your knees as the blast rang through the empty air, a flash of white and red lighting up the air like fireworks as you covered your ears. An explosion of blood wet the ground, painted strokes of crimson hitting your face and shoes. A silent scream escaped your mouth as Riki’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor inches from where you sat, as terribly beautiful as ever, his wide and fear-stricken eyes immortalized as he stared at you. The last thing he loved before he died.

It was funny, seeing a human die. You thought that you would cry, wail, kick and scream as you brutally mourned the life of someone you had loved.  A life that ended in an instant, as easy as pulling a trigger. But you didn’t cry. You just sat there, helpless and silent, waves of grief, dread, anger, every emotion running through you as your eyes and mouth went dry with fear.

Jungwon was a new man. He stood above you, not even looking at the man he had just killed, only looking at you. His eyes seemed black in the night, unforgiving and unapologetic as he gripped the gun in his hand, the barrel covered in blood.

Pools of crimson blood soaked into the soft ground as Riki laid unmoving, the contents of his head spilled across the dirt. His mouth was open in a silent plea, one that nobody would hear, not even God.

Jungwon kneeled in front of you, and a single tear ran down his face as he desperately searched your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Oh, God.” you said, your voice hollow and unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and for the first time in months, he sounded fully alive. His voice regained its fullness, no longer slouching and frowning, radiating the power he had lost. “I had to do it. You know I had to.” His hands were covered in blood. There were splatters across his face, and you couldn’t distinguish between the blood running from his own cuts and the blood of the man he had just killed. You felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and you gagged as you tried to hold it back.

“Jungwon,” you said, voice breaking midway through as you began to cry salty tears. ���God, Jungwon, oh my God.”

You had no fight left in you. You felt like a hollow shell as you sat there on the floor, the man whom you loved soaked in the blood of someone you had called a friend. Maybe more than that. You wished you could disappear, that everything would go away, that this would have never happened.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and he pulled you into an embrace. 

Despite feeling repulsed by his touch, you craved his skin and his love, so you let him hold you in his blood stained clothes, you let his soiled hands stroke your hair until it was wet with blood. 

“I told you,” he said, quietly. “I would never let anything tear us apart.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond, just sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until the life and tears were drained out of you, until your heart felt like it would stop. Jungwon held you, his own heart beating as fast as lightning, the breath of life rushing through him. Riki didn’t move an inch, didn’t come back to life no matter how hard you cried. And Jungwon was delighted.

Maybe there was something dark in Jungwon. Or maybe he was sane, in a world where you have to do unspeakable things to protect what you love.

And as he held you, sobbing in the night air, your tears mingling with the blood on your face, he began to realize he was just a man. A sick man.

Just as bad as the rest of them.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

[7brownsuga7]

The God who answers after dark ☆ The intro:

Summary: You used to pray to the Gods after dark before you went to sleep, always thinking that you were praying to the good kind. The kind that showed mercy. However you were mistaken, as time passes and you grew older and wiser it will be revealed that your prayers were answered, but not by the Gods you thought you knew, but the dark kind. The kind that your grandmother used to warn you about. Ones you hear in stories. The kind that you should fear, but how can you when it's all you know. How can you when he was the only one who answered?

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, mostly fluff I guess, a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? age gap I guess?!!? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Slight manipulation???! MDNI!!!

Word count: 3k+

Note: making this into a series🫶🏽 this is just a little something that I wrote when I was bored. Be prepared for more obsessive and possessive Jungkook!

Was inspired by the book invisible life of Addie-Larue

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was dark.

The night creating shadows in the corner of your room, allowing your imagination to run wild, creating things scary to imagine.

You wasn’t scared though, because you knew it was your imagination. And because you’ve experienced something way darker. You invited him into your home with a simple whisper, let him talk to you throughout the many dark nights, telling him your dreams and wishes of a better life where you are happy and loved.

You was always an imaginative child. While you watched others make friends, you created your own, that grew along with you. Who only came out at night.

You first called upon him when you were only seven. Mindlessly talking to the open air. You had wanted a friend. A friend you could talk to, play with, share secrets with. So you stared off into the dark and talked about nothing and everything. However, when you saw the shadows in the corner of your room move, and sit before you did you realise that you summoned something else. Not a friend, not an imaginary one, something much darker. Still you spoke to it, and it spoke to you like rough winds in the cool night. It comforted you like a cool breeze in a summers heat.

You found comfort in him. You would mindlessly tell him your dreams. He would make empty promises of giving you that dream felt life. Empty, because they came with a price that you were not willing to pay for. Still he would sit beside you and listen to your stories and dreams.

You had asked him what his dreams were and he had told you that he was the son of a God - he had none, but he could grant them within due time. When he himself became a God. So he settled with telling you stories about Gods and wars. Desperate souls and deals. The kind his father spoke to him about, the kind he experienced himself.

Then, he was an angel, the son of a God he refused to speak of. Now, he is a God himself, the God of Darkness. Like the type you’d find deep in a forest, hidden behind the shadows of the trees, infused within the night that covers the sky like a blanket. Comforting to some, suffocating for others.

You was a child who had a lot to wish for and no control of your imagination back then. His company grew on you so much that he was like an accessory to your room. Like a cushion that decorated your bed, a small plant that had a home on your desk, a stack of books that rested in a pile on your bedside table. He felt like home.

The man that would sit before you, appearance created from your imagination - answered you everytime you called on him. He was always there with you. When you looked out of your window at night, when you wrote in your diary about the stories he’d tell you. In your dreams. He was always there.

It was dark.

So you did what you’ve always done when the lights went out, and people lay deep asleep. The night silent and still.

You called for him.

“Yes my love?” He appeared from the dark corner of your room. Once a shadow, now a man that sat before you on your bed. The only bit of light was the shine from the moon and the small warm lamp next to your bed.

You always expect the bed to shift as he sits down, but his weight is like a feather held in one’s palm. Light and weightless. Proof that the form you see before you is none other than what he has stolen from your imagination. His true form something like a stream in the night. Dark and shallow.

His lean body presented in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Very simple, but styled so well. He was always so well presented, dressed so elegantly. You knew that that wasn’t your imagination that created the fine attire, it was simply him, the Darkness who was a charmer, who had lived many years before you. Of course he’d picked up some style on the way.

“I want to be loved” you spoke out, tone delicate like a whisper, too embarrassed, too afraid.

“Y/n my dear, you are loved by many. Your mother adores you, friends cherish you, need I say more?” His eyes match his soul, dark and intense, yet they still seem to be so warm, inviting. It’s either that or his voice that draws you in. So soothing yet so deep. Like a calm ocean that holds many depth below.

“Not that kind of love. I want to be loved by a man. I want to feel that type of love I read in books and see in movies. The type of love my grandparents have. The type of love that won’t make me feel so alone anymore”

He chuckles a beautiful melody.

You always surprised him. The things you’d speak and dream of so bizarre yet so intriguing. Out of all the souls who begged for his help and all the humans he’s encountered, you’re the one that amused him most. A girl who asked and wished for so much, yet all she needed to do was look in the mirror and realise her worth, her power.

But he of all people knew that wishes were easy to slip from one’s lips. Words slide out of people’s mouths just as easy as a balloons string slips out of a child’s hand, so effortlessly. People are so careless when it comes to words. If only they knew the power it holds.

Wishes, prayers. They were all the same to him. It didn’t matter because they both had the same outcome, the same deal, the same promise, the same fate and the same desperation. The person was always begging and pleading in the end, too desperate to have their prayers answered to form a logical sentence, and to understand a twisted deal.

“You are not alone my love. I am here, I’ve always been here. I am the breeze that embraces you in the night, the darkness that lulls you to sleep. I am here. And you are loved.”

“You are not a man, even if you choose to be in this moment.” Your words are harsh, yes, but that’s what he loved about you. You were honest with him, you weren’t afraid.

“I can be the darkness of the night, a friend when you need company, I can be a man…”

When you make no move to respond to him, he rolls his eyes and sighs. “But before all of that I am a God. A God that answers wishes, say the words and I’ll give it to you, for a price”

This isn’t the first time he’s said this, and this isn’t the first time you’ve asked for something. But it always ends up with the same outcome, an offer of a sacrifice that you refuse. And then the whole interaction is swept away in the night, forgotten.

“Im not sacrificing my soul to you”

“My dear, you’ve called upon me countless of times, I’ve stayed by your side for years, you must know by now that you’re mine. I may not have your soul entirely, but yours is bound with mine, through shared memories and dreams, nights and years.”

“Don’t you get tired of chasing something that doesn’t belong to you? That will never be yours?”

“I have patience” is the only thing he says before he changes the subject back to your previous wish.

“I’d love to help you. You know I always do. But you should know by now that I can’t just give you that. I can’t just muster up a man for you that will make love to you. You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man, that I can’t do, but like I said, I can be a lot of things.”

His hand reaches out to touch your jaw, thumb caressing it. His touch light, smooth. And despite everything, you wish he would touch you more, so you lean into his touch.

“I can be a God, an Angel, a Devil, a Human. Whatever you’d like me to be, as long as I am yours and you are mine”

“That’s not the type of love I’m talking about” your voice is shaky, unsure of what you want. What you need.

“Oh isn’t it? All those nights you would touch yourself to images of me… where you would talk to yourself about wanting to be touched. Those days where you would listen to all your friends stories about being with another, being touched by another. You envy them. You want to be loved in a way that has your skin littered with goosebumps, chills running down your spine” his fingers brush along your collarbone and you feel a shiver come across your body.

You think back to the nights where you would dream of his fingers against your skin. Light, cool and delicate.

“You must know by now that your body is mine. Your mind, your heart, your soul. Stop wasting your time being stubborn and let me give you what you want. The love you hope for, a world where you’re happy, things go your way. I can give you all of that if you would just be mine”

You hate the fact that he’s partially right. You have dreamt about him and thought of many nights where he would lay you in bed and take you as his. It was one of your dark fantasies that you never spoke of, you couldn’t , not to him.

Just as much as you were, he was stubborn. And as a God that always gets his way, he hates being told no.

“I see you’re making it a habit of calling me yours. You may be a God, but I don’t belong to you. I won’t”

“Within due time”

You don’t say anything else, instead you focus on the stillness of the room. The way his presence is so strong, the way you feel relaxed around him.

“You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man? I can’t give that to you if you don’t sacrifice, but I can show you how to be loved, y/n. I can show you what it feels like to be touched” his hand brushes the side of your face. His eyes pouring into yours, if you didn’t know his games you would almost fall for his tricks. Almost.

“Is this how you get people to give you their souls? Is this one of your twisted games? I give you my body and you take my soul as a keepsake.” Your breath is shaky as his touch takes over your body, so intense, so wrong but so right.

“I don’t just want your soul y/n. I want your heart, I want your touch, I want your love and your word that you will be mine.”

“You aren’t capable of feeling those things. you’re n-“

“Not human, I know. You’ve told me many times” his fingers brush along your thigh. “But when you have lived amongst humans and dealt with them for as long as I have, you begin to understand real emotions. I’m more human than you’ll ever know ”

His lips brush along your earlobe. “Let me show you”

He lays you down on the bed, hovering over you.

“No man on earth can give you what I can give you. I’ll take their souls if they tried. I can give you the world, the luxury of never having to worry about anything. A life of happiness, a life of freedom. If only you would let me have you”

He spoke so much about making things happen. He could make things happen with the click of his finger. And you wondered if he ever manipulated you in anyway. And why he hasn’t so far. If he really wanted you like he said he does, then why doesn’t he use his power to get you?

He spoke so softly in your ear, his voice like a blanket of silk. You don’t realise that you have yet again leaned in to him. Drawn in by his words, the way he spoke them so effortlessly and so passionately.

“You have me, I’m here right now” you give up your fight and give in to what your body craves.

Your eyes flutter close as you let yourself escape in everything that is him.

Just like when you were a child, you use your imagination to create your own little world. Just you and him for the moment.

You’re lost in his earthy scent. The night sky drawn around you like a blanket, protecting you. A sense of freedom as you seep into the darkness of the night that is him. But when you open your eyes you see more than just the darkness. You see the stars in the night. His eyes mimicking the galaxy as he watches you with so much want.

There in that moment is when you realised how powerful he was. How powerful his words were, his presence was. And his touch…

His touch that had your body reacting in ways you never knew it could.

His touch light, like a cool embrace of the wind.

Except your skin is like the sun, setting your skin on fire as his hands caress your body. You hate that your body reacts so easily to his touch. But over anything else, you hate how he knows your body when you don’t even know it yourself.

He knows just where to touch you, just where you crave another’s touch.

Just where to touch to have the hairs on your body stand up. Eager for more.

His face is in the crook of your neck lightly running his lips along the service, just before he litters small pecks to it. He smells you, breathes you in, humming in the process.

“I’m so full of everything I can have in life, and yet I still crave you”

You shiver when he pauses just by your earlobe.

“What are you doing to me my love?”

You both lock eyes for a second, the world stopping in the moment that is just yours. You don’t answer him. He seems elated with just watching you anyways.

“You’ll let me have you?”

You hold your breath, unsure of what to say. Yes because you want him to take you here right now, but you know how sneaky he can be, you’re afraid that your words would be used against you.

When you make no move to speak, he smirks against your skin and whispers, “Smart girl, I’ve taught you well.”

He takes no time in playing with the lace of your panties. You feel wetness stick to the fabric, something that started once he laid his fingers on you.

He’s always been good with his fingers. One night he played you a song on your guitar, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. In this very moment you feel like an instrument. The way his fingers work on you, you creating sounds so melodic you don’t even recognise yourself. The way he holds you so gently as one would with their instrument. You’re not afraid when you’re with him. There’s no need to be when he holds and touches you so gently.

His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks to you. His fingers working inside of you making your back arch and toes curl. Your fingers grab your sheet, mind going crazy because you know you shouldn’t be doing this. This is crazy and it’s not like you at all. And with him?

“You’re so stubborn. Why won’t you be mine? Look how your body is reacting to me. The moment I made myself present, your breathing changed rhythm and heart increased pace. You don’t think I know how you feel?”

You release a pathetic moan. A desperate one that has you cringing with embarrassment because of how needy you sound.

He leans in towards the crook of your neck with a low, “hmm?”

You look away. Too embarrassed and too in awe at the way he’s making you feel - making you act.

“Look at me”.

You find the courage to look at him. His fingers that work inside of you have your pussy creating sounds you never knew it could. You take deep breaths, slight frown on your face as your body’s taken over by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet for me. So needy.”

He continues to watch you with half-lidded eyes. Taking in the moment. Taking in everything that is you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into it.

You’ve given yourself to him in this moment - not entirely as he had hoped, but having his way with you in this point in time is more than enough.

He takes you there on your bed. The same place you would speak to him every night, dream of him every occasion.

He’s gentle, careful. His motions precise, enough to have your breath stuck in your throat.

Your mind has been lost in the darkness that is him. You don’t even want to find it.

He’s hovered over you, your legs wrapped around him. Kisses given with each thrust.

He speaks beautiful words to you, hand caressing your face every now and then.

And in this moment you’re sure you’re making love. Even though you know it can’t be because you both know nothing of the sort, but this is exactly how it feels like.

You reach a hand out to him, brushing back his dark stringy locks that fall in front of his face.

He kisses you with so much passion, speaks to you with words that has your heart aching for more.

In this moment you almost give him your word. Your life, your soul. Your head clouded by this intense emotion, a feeling that you can’t grasp. He’s taken you to a whole different universe, mind lost in everything that is him.

You almost give him your word, almost.

And when he brings you to your climax you sink deeper into him, into his embarace. Letting your body infuse with his.

You both lay there in silence for a while until he voices, “Even if you deny it. I’ve given you my word that I’ll stick by your side. There’s no getting rid of me”

You don’t need to ask him about what he means.

You know.

His fingers caress your skin as you close your eyes, letting his words fill the air.

“A soul as beautiful and pure as yours is a soul to wait a lifetime for. And I’ve got a lot of time”

And when you open your eyes, you’re met with nothing but the darkness of your room.

The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

[klaus-littlestwolf]

(The drawings/tattoos that are used to illustrate the tattoos the boys get in this story are in no way mine and I do not take credit for them in any way (there’s a reason I’m a writer, I can’t draw to save my life 🤣). They are only used to show what the boys wanted tattooed on them by their mate. Credit where Credit is due)

Seeing them was odd, it always had been. It was very rare that I was on the boardwalk after the sun went down and when I was I always had someone with me who walked me to my car, and always freshly after sunset. I knew the boardwalk was a dangerous place at night and honestly, I preferred to avoid it, even if the night life is more fun for everyone.

Unfortunately I had to take this shift for a coworker for the rest of the week at least, and was stuck here until the Tattoo shop closed at 2am, and the only reason I’m not complaining is because people seem much more willing to tip better at night. The Lost Boys were a biker gang, and while I couldn’t deny that they are attractive and that they look like a lot of fun, I also knew better. They parked their bikes across from the shop every night, from what I could tell they enjoy pissing off Max, the video store owner, though I don’t know why.

I tried very hard not to make eye contact with any of them, just not looking up at them at all as I finished my tattoo, which was a pinup of a mermaid, and covered it up with plastic wrap, quickly checking the guy out and accepting my 30 dollar tip before shutting the register on my finger which instantly made me yelp in pain and see a trickle of blood coming from my finger. Thankfully it was only a little cut and it wouldn’t hinder my work as I sucked off the blood and quickly disinfected it, wrapping a tight bandaid around it. Just as I moved to my station to clean everything my eyes flickered up as if by instinct and caught all 4 of the boys staring at me intently which startled me but I quickly looked away and tried to calm my racing heart by getting rid of the inky water at my station. Just as I was about to put my ink away and read my book I heard footsteps walk into the front.

‘Hello, welcome to Ink-Well Tattoo Shop, if you’d like to look at my books they’re on the shelf.’ I told them, just turning around as I finished talking and coming face to face with the bleach blond leader that had been staring at me only a moment ago.

‘Ink-Well…is that a reference to an ink container people used to have on their desks or how good you are at your job?’ He asked…softly? I had always imagined their voices to be deep and dark, especially his, but while it was deep it was also gentle, at least while speaking to me right now it was but I could tell that soft voice wasn’t always so soft.

‘I think you’re the first person to prove me wrong, the owner said, “Everyone knows what an inkwell is”…no one knows what it is. And personally, I would describe my abilities much better than “well”. I’m incredible, do you know what you want today, sir?’ I asked, moving around him only to find the dark haired one right behind him and I realized how tall he really is as I almost slammed my face into his naked chest. I looked around, seeing the other two beside my chair and I took a deep breath. ‘Which one of you is getting inked today?’ I asked and the twisted sister look-alike jumped up excitedly.

‘Oh! Me! I want to do it!’ He seemed to be begging which was a strange thought as the leader nodded and he jumped to sit in the chair.

‘Okay, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.’ I held out my hand and he took it in his own, pulling me closer before kissing my hand tenderly which made my blood rush to my face. The idea that these boys are soft and sweet and gentle in any way shape or form is really screwing with me. Their presence had always been a tad bit scary with the vibe they gave off, sexy or not (and they definitely are), but for the first time that I’m seeing them it’s like they’re not projecting dangerous vibes and it was a comfort in this situation being alone with all of them.

‘I’m Paul. This is Marko, Dwayne and you met David. Y/n, I like that name.’ He flirted and I rolled my eyes, handing him a book full of images of my work.

‘I’m glad, do you know what you want to get Paul?’ I asked, and he smiled as he looked at my work, all of them now watching as he flipped through the pages.

‘I want a vampire bat on my chest. Are you able to do that?’ He questioned, looking up at me as Marko took the book and I nodded, sitting in my seat beside him.

‘Were you looking for it to be realistic, like a portrait? Because if you want something like that it’s a 6-7 hour minimum piece and I would need you to come back during the day-‘

‘Oh, we can only be here at night, I want something smaller anyway. Not cartoony but-‘

‘You want a badass vampire bat, I get you. I can definitely do that. How big are you looking to get it?’ He jumped to pull off his jacket which jingled with all the stuff he had hanging off of it before stripping off his tank top.

‘Like maybe, this big?’ He showed me the area of his chest he wanted covered and I nodded.

‘Okay, let me draw that up and we’ll see if you like it.’ It was a relatively small tattoo and he watched, leaning over the chair as I sketched it out and he was smiling the whole time, staring at me.

‘You’re really pretty, has anyone told you that?’ He asked and I rolled my eyes.

‘Surf Nazis say shit every day-though they usually go with “hot”, “sexy”, “great rack”. Things like that, pretty is a new one though, thank you.’ I knew my face was red as he watched me draw, Marko suddenly beside me, setting a chair near Paul’s feet.

‘They bother you a lot, Angel?’ He wondered and I shrugged, my face darkening even more as he called me that.

‘All day long, they’re probably the most annoying customers so my boss takes all of them since they started getting a bit too comfortable and handsy with me and the other girl. I have her evening closing shift for the week so, if they show up I get to tell them to “fuck off” which is awesome.’ I joked and they laughed along with me.

‘Well, we’ll need to make sure they don’t bother you anymore, won’t we boys?’ It was the first time David spoke again and I looked up to see him watching me draw over my shoulder.

‘Fuck yeah, no one’s gonna be bothering our Princess.’ Paul cheered and it was weirdly comforting to hear that they wanted to protect me.

‘Please, just leave it alone? They don’t know I’m working nights now so it’s all fine, and I’ll only be doing it for the week. What do you think? Do you think he looks mean enough?’ I asked, showing Paul my drawing.

‘Princess, that’s incredible! It somehow looks cute and vicious…like Marko!’ He teased, getting punched in the chest immediately.

‘Okay, punch each other all you’d like outside, but if you make his skin swell where I need to ink then I’ll hit you myself.’ I told Marko, moving to make a stencil for the tattoo that Paul wanted, nearly running into Dwayne again, who just watched me.

‘Don’t mind him, he’s quiet but honestly, he’s the nicest of all of us…usually.’ David spoke and I smiled, quickly making the stencil.

‘Would you tattoo me tomorrow night?’ A new deep voice asked and I looked up to see it had been Dwayne. I paused to pick my chin up from the floor at the sound of his sexy deep baritone voice before shaking off and answering him.

‘Of course. Do you know what you want done, because I can do anything you want but depending on the style you want I might recommend a coworker. Say you wanted Japanese, I would recommend Kevin, he is fucking killer at that stuff and if you want anything American Traditional he is bomb at it.’ I had said this because of the American Traditional rose tattoo I could see peeking out on his side though he quickly shook his head.

‘I want you. I want something like this.’ he showed me the dreamcatcher piece I had put in my book and I smiled.

‘This is one of the best tattoos I ever did, and it was so much fun! Do you want it that size?’ He nodded his head.

‘Yes, but a bit more along the Native American type style? I’d like it to look like it’s braided together…could you do that?’ He looked unsure but I just kept smiling.

‘Of course I can! Let me draw a couple of things up tonight for you and you can see what you like best tomorrow. I’m sure I can give you something perfect!’ For the first time the corners of his mouth turned up and he smiled down at me-his smile was hot cute.

‘I know you can Babygirl.’ I was startled but after hearing Marko and Paul I realized that they seem to have a thing for nicknames so I ignored it.

‘Alright Paul, stencil is done.’ I spoke, sitting back down beside him. Most of his chest hair was in the center of his chest so I didn’t need to shave where he wanted the tattoo before placing the stencil and squeezing out the inks I would need. ‘Are you ready, rockstar?’ I asked him and he grinned as I called him that.

‘Hell Yeah Princess! Ink me up!’ We chatted as I tattooed him, him and Marko keeping me engaged with the conversation but I noticed David and Dwayne off on their own and speaking seriously for a while. The tattoo took about an hour, maybe a bit more before I was finished, turning off the machine and wiping his chest down.

‘What do you think?’ I waited for his reaction after handing him a mirror to see it more clearly and he turned it away from me instantly, seeming uncomfortable before looking down at his chest instead of at the reflection and grinning at the new ink on his body.

‘Princess! This is amazing!’ He exclaimed, placing the mirror face down and moving to hug me.

‘Ah-Ah! It’s sensitive! Don’t you dare destroy my work!’ I warned, turning to lay some plastic wrap over it and tape it down after David and Dwayne looked at it.

‘You’re really talented. I’m gonna have to go after Dwayne.’ David told me, watching as I cleaned up.

‘You’ll have to go the next night cause Dwayne’s is going to take me until closing at least…what time can you get here tomorrow?’ I asked him.

‘I’ll be here right after the sun goes down, I promise.’

‘Okay, so that’s about 8. I’ll be sure my last client will be done by then. Where do you want it, by the way?’ He opened his jacket, showing me the right side of his chest and making me blush. ‘Got it. I’ll have a few options for you tomorrow. For now, Paul, that’ll be 45.’ I finished putting everything away as it was now 10 minutes after closing time.

‘Here you go Princess, be safe getting home, you hear?’ He warned and I nodded, Paul, Marko and Dwayne walking out and leaving me with David for a moment and I froze under his intense stare.

‘Paul is right you know…you really are beautiful.’ He complimented, his gloved hand holding my chin for a moment before walking out and letting me shut the gate to the front before realizing Paul had given me a 100 dollar bill which is a 55 dollar tip…maybe I can like these boys after all.

What I didn’t know was, as I walked out the back door and locked it once the place was all clean, I was being watched. I made my way down the boardwalk, grabbing a burger and fries, along with a coke, shoving the food in my bag and sipping my soda as I walked off the boardwalk and all the way home.

Unlike every other night I had walked in the dark before, I felt…safe? I wasn’t looking around like a crazy person waiting to get jumped, I just walked home and crashed into bed.

I live in an apartment with a roommate, Justin, who is always out at his girlfriends (whoever that is this week) which left me alone most of the time and I loved it. I put in a video I had rented from the video store next door earlier that day, it was a new horror movie, Hellraiser. Strange premise, awesome movie.

That’s how I fell asleep that night, around 3:30 am, and all the while 4 sets of yellow eyes watched from the trees outside.

I got to work the next night at 6 as my boss left and set my sketchbook on my table, taking 2 quick tattoos before telling the last walk-in that I didn’t have time, knowing as the sun began to set Dwayne would be coming for his tattoo and I was excited to see which one he picked. I had set up everything I would need and just as I was scheduling a tattoo for a coworker to do tomorrow for a walk-in, I heard the rumble of bikes coming down the boardwalk making me smile. ‘Okay, Kevin will take you tomorrow at noon, is that alright?’ I asked the annoyed girl who clearly just wanted her tattoo now.

‘Still don’t get why you can’t just take me now.’ She bitched and I fought to not roll my eyes as 4 sets of heavy boots stomped through the front.

‘I can’t take you now because I’m tattooing him now. Your appointment is for noon tomorrow.’ She turned and as she saw the boys she quickly ran out the front and was gone, startling me. ‘I should employ you as security here from now on.’ I teased, grabbing my book and walking over to my chair.

‘We can do that for you at night.’ Marko agreed, a grin on his face which seemed to always be grinning honestly.

‘Well I’m only working here for the week at nights so you won’t see me after that-‘

‘No! You need to keep working nights Angel, what are we supposed to do without you here?’ Marko complained.

‘Come on, the night life is more fun anyway Princess!’ I rolled my eyes, opening my book.

‘I’ll think about it. Okay, this is the first one I did, I went simple cause I didn’t know how detailed you wanted everything. Usually I put in too much detail and people hate it.’

‘It’s nice, but I was hoping for something more intricate.’ He told me and I smiled.

‘Okay, I went a little bigger with this one, but my personal favorite is this one.’ I showed him the third one and his eyes widened. ‘I researched some Native American dream catchers and tried to make it as real as I could…do you like it?’ He nodded his head slowly and I was worried for a moment.

‘It looks like the one my Ma made me when I was a kid…it’s perfect Babygirl, thank you.’ I was touched by that.

‘This is why I love my job, you can tattoo memories for people that they get to keep for a lifetime. Don’t thank me yet though, not until it’s done, I already made the stencil for it, I just knew you would pick this one! Take off your jacket.’ I told him, grabbing the stencil and looking at Paul. ‘Let me see how it’s healing rockstar.’ He hesitated for a moment before pulling his shirt up and I was stunned. ‘Holy shit!’ I stood, moving to him and touching his chest. ‘You…you heal fast don’t you?’

‘Way fast, it looks great Princess.’ He pecked my cheek before sitting next to Marko and I moved back to my chair, removing my jacket and getting ready to place the stencil. ‘Damn girl! You are tatted up!’ I tried to stop the blush that came in but I couldn’t, smiling as they all inspected my skin which had both of my sleeves done.

‘Yeah, I don’t know any tattooers who don’t have tattoos, and if you find one, don’t go to them.’ I teased, peeling the stencil off and turning on my machine to begin inking the shirtless God.

‘I need food, you guys want anything? Dwayne? Angel?’ Marko offered a little later, just as I was finishing the outlines.

‘I wouldn’t mind a coke.’ I told him and he grinned, jumping to go get food with Paul behind him. ‘How are you feeling Dwayne? Okay?’

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ He countered and I rolled my eyes.

‘I’m trying to make sure you’re not getting dizzy or are gonna pass out on me, you’re still as a statue and barely breathing. Don’t be a smartass.’

‘I’m fine, I promise. You have beautiful eyes…’ he mumbled and I just blushed, beginning to detail the braided base before moving to the feathers.

I finished the tattoo just before 2 and it came out perfectly, prompting me to hand him the mirror which he grabbed as Paul had and turned it away from me though I could swear it looked like he didn’t have any reflection at all. ‘Alright, you’re all finished. Is it what you wanted?’ I asked and he nodded, looking down at his chest.

‘You have no idea how perfect this is. Thank you Babygirl.’ He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I rang him up and I was once again bright red.

‘Look at that cute little blush!’ Marko exclaimed and he and Paul laughed like crazy. ‘Everything you do is just so cute Angel!’ He was teasing me and I wanted to hate it but I didn’t, it filled my stomach with butterflies and I was feeling awful about how badly I wanted to jump all of them.

‘Shut up.’ I grumbled and began closing up, all of them moving to hug me in one way or another.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow night Kitten.’ David told me and it felt almost like a warning, daring me not to be here which made me excited.

For the rest of the week they were there, David and Marko both getting tattoos of their own before Paul decided to get a bigger piece, dedicating a whole sleeve to his rockstar image which I found cute, starting with a killer electric guitar and lyrics from the song Lost in the Shadows. That next night was my last night on the boardwalk, going back to the dayshift the next day which they complained about loudly, insisting I switch my schedule so they could see me.

That night as I started my shift I was immediately bothered by Surf Nazis, a few of the assholes noticing me in the shop alone. I had kicked them out and the security escorted them off the boardwalk (which I knew wouldn’t last long). The boys didn’t show up at 8 like they normally did and I was a bit disappointed but I knew they would find something shiny and new to love eventually, guys like that always do.

Around 10 o’clock the assholes were back, 3 of them now walking around the shop and getting too comfortable.

‘Don’t touch me!’ I snapped as I cleaned my station, deciding to close early tonight and just take the loss if it got them away from me, their hands pinching me now and then before the one with the giant Mohawk pulled me to his chest and pinned me to the counter. ‘Let Me Go!’ I growled, punching at him as hard as I could but not making him budge.

‘Come on sweetheart, just spend the night with us, I promise you’ll have the time of your life.’ He teased just before I brought my knee up and hit him straight in the crotch, a high pitched noise escaping him before he collapsed.

‘Get the fuck out!’ His 2 friends helped him up before practically carrying him out and I pulled the gates at the front shut, locking them and making my way down the boardwalk. Unlike the last 5 nights, I was uneasy and scared again, hating the long walk in the darkness which is what made me hesitate as I got to the parking lot before trying to quickly get to the next street and away from the rowdy people. I wasn’t even halfway through the parking lot when I was grabbed, tight hands clamped around my waist and mouth as I was hauled down the beach no matter how hard I kicked before being dropped by a bonfire.

‘Hi there.’ The asshole from earlier greeted and I rolled my eyes.

‘Get the fuck away from me!’ I snapped, trying to get up only to be shoved back down onto my ass, realizing there were 4 of them now all looking down at me like it was the funniest joke ever told.

‘Oh, come on! We’re gonna have a great time, you just need to relax.’ There were suddenly hands on me from behind pulling at my jacket and I tried to pull my arms back, kicking my legs out and hitting the one in front of me in the stomach before two of them pinned me on my back on the sand.

‘You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.’ He snarled and just as he knelt down over me there was a loud shrieking sound from behind him and they all turned towards their friend that had screamed. I couldn’t sit up to see from where I was but as both men holding me suddenly let me go I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good. As more screams rang out I rolled over, crawling along the sand and keeping my head down before seeing boots below my face that I recognized instantly.

‘David?’ I questioned, looking up and stiffening as I saw blood covering his mouth and jaw but strangely, I didn’t feel any real fear like I had moments ago.

‘Are you alright Kitten? The one night we’re late.’ He teased, leaning down and lifting me up to my feet. I turned around as the screaming suddenly cut off and saw all 4 Surf Nazi’s dead and covered in blood. I had to swallow to keep from getting sick as I saw several limbs no longer attached to their original bodies, Paul and Dwayne covered in blood much the same as David while Marko held one of the assholes in his grip with his…fangs…in the man’s neck.

‘Holy shit…’ They all looked at me now, their faces distorted but they didn’t look angry like I would expect, more concerned as they all looked at me, Marko dropping the now dead body.

‘Relax Kitten, it’s alright. You’re safe now.’ David told me and I took a deep breath, not feeling scared in the least.

‘Vampires…makes sense…only coming out at night. The mirror thing…that’s why you heal so fast! Totally unfair!’ I whined, realizing why their tattoos healed so quickly as they stepped closer to me, Dwayne having cleaned off his face as best he could before looking me over quickly.

‘Are you hurt? We got here as quickly as we could, we-‘

‘I’m fine! It’s alright…thank you for saving me…I’m going to have to switch to working nights after all, aren’t I?’ I joked making David snort beside me while he lit a cigarette.

‘Or you could quit and just tattoo us exclusively.’ Paul proposed. ‘For the rest of eternity.’

‘W-wait, you mean-‘

‘You think we show just anyone what we really are?’ Marko wondered.

‘You were meant to be one of us Princess-knew you were ours since the moment you sliced your finger and we smelled your blood, no changing that.’ The pothead laughed making me roll my eyes before feeling David’s arm around my waist, covering my neck in blood as he nuzzled me which was a uniquely gross feeling.

‘He’s right Kitten. You ain’t gettin away from us, might as well accept it…you, our little mate, were born to be a vampire.’

Lost Boys Masterlist

Lost Boys x Tattoo Artist Moodboard

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part vii

Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Time passes by, but Joel's feelings and the promises he has made to you are still lingering.

w.c: 9,6k

warnings: angst, harassment, mention of being hostage, mentions of blood, fluff. no proofreading. oh, there's a time jump.

a/n: Hello! This is the third chapter in a row that I don't feel satisfied with. I hope you like it though. Thank you so much for all the love you have given me with this one and I want to tell you that the next chapter will be the last one. I have some ideas for new fics, so I hope to have the strength to write. Thank you so much again and remember that Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I would go mad if something happens to you.

Months pass and life cycle moves. You couldn't even get used to the idea of it. Since you were a little girl you could notice the tree's leaves changing into brown and blossoming months after.

Time went too slow when you were a kid, but it went too fast when the world descended into madness.

It passed fast when you lose your parents.

It passed fast when you lost your sister to a mad man who bit her.

And it passed too slow when you cried to sleep hoping to find someone and kill the loneliness that consumed you.

You wouldn't have imagined that there would be a man and a daughter that would change the scary ending of a woman navigating into a mad world.

Now with Rosie growing up, you could see that time didn't forget, it pauses.

Spring blossomed, the heat of summer came and autumn leaves started falling on the ground.

And Rosie was seven months, she had become a source of happiness for you and Joel. You had got used to the normalcy Jackson provided, completely detached form the reality back at the QZ. Here, you could breathe without constantly looking over your shoulder. The peace felt surreal, as if Jackson existed in a bubble untouched by the chaos outside its walls. You found a rhythm in the days: waking up to Rosie’s soft coos, the gentle mornings spent together with Joel as you adjusted to the family life, you’d both never thought possible. And then there was Ellie, who’d become your family too, her bond with Rosie growing stronger with every passing day. It was as though the world had given you a second chance, a life that felt safe, a life you could finally call your own.

 But still, some nights you had to get up from bed and comfort Ellie from the guilt she felt and not being the chance of saving the world, at not being able to give Rosie a better world as she had promised you before she left to that hospital.

In those quiet, midnight hours, you would find Ellie sitting by the window, looking out into the dark, her expression shadowed by a weight that hadn’t left her since her return.

She held Rosie close, as if this little piece of innocence could somehow soothe the burdens she carried. And every time, you would gently place a hand on her shoulder, grounding her back to the present.

“Ellie, you’ve given her everything she needs—a world where she can grow up safe, with people who love her,” you’d say, your voice soft but steady. “That’s more than most people get in this life. You saved her, Ellie. And you’re saving her every day.”

Ellie would nod, her fingers brushing over Rosie’s little hand, but the guilt lingered. You could see it in her eyes—the questions, the what-ifs. She’d murmur about the promise she’d made to you and herself, the weight of what she couldn’t change. And in these moments, you reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

Joel, too, had his own ways of comforting her. He would tell stories of the world before, of the simple joys he’d had with his own daughter, Sarah. Ellie listened closely, soaking in the memories and glimpses of a life she could only imagine. She became part of this family, tangled in the bond you and Joel shared with Rosie. Tommy and Maria had welcomed a baby boy, who become part of your little family too, creating a new sense of hope that replaced the endless need for answers.

As autumn deepened, the nights grew longer, but the warmth in your small home was a steady light. Together, you were all healing, not just from wounds of the past but from the burden of being the ones who had survived when so many hadn’t. You realized that the love you shared was a gift, one that filled in the cracks left by the world’s broken promises.

Jackson had given each of you something to hold on to: a chance to live, not just survive.

To be human and to have kindness all over again.

The arrival of a new doctor, a young woman named Lena, had shifted things in Jackson. She was efficient, kind, and carried herself with an air of calm that put people at ease. It wasn’t long before she’d settled into her new role, and everyone, even Paul, seemed to take a liking to her. You noticed the way his attention veered toward her whenever she was around. For the first time in months, you felt him loosen his grip on you—both literally and in the unwelcome ways he used to hover.

But the relief was short-lived. Though Paul was now distant, something lingered in the way he looked at you from across the square or when you were with Joel, his gaze sharp, bitter, as if he were wrestling with unspoken resentment. It sent a chill through you, the way he lingered just long enough to make you question his intentions. You’d catch his eyes on you while laughing with Joel or holding Rosie close, and despite the distance he kept, it was clear he hadn’t completely let go of the past.

“You’re safe,” Joel would say when he felt you tense under Paul’s gaze, his voice warm yet firm, as if willing you to believe it as fiercely as he did. “I won’t let him hurt you, not again. I promise.”

Over time, you tried to let Joel’s words settle the unease in your heart, and each day in Jackson was a step further from the shadows of the past. Rosie’s laughter filled the quiet corners of your home, and Ellie’s confidence slowly returned, bolstered by her new role in the community. The family you had all become created a protective circle, one that, despite the lingering fear, was beginning to feel like a fortress of your own making.

But in a lawless world, good things weren’t forever.

You were in the storage room, organizing some of the supplies for the community. It was a quiet day, and the rhythmic task of sorting and counting had put your mind at ease for a while. The door creaked behind you, and without turning around, you assumed it was Ellie coming in with Rosie, as she often did when Joel was out on patrol.

“Hey, you can leave Rosie’s blanket in the corner,” you called out casually, continuing to count the jars of preserves. When there was no response, you glanced over your shoulder. The door was closed, but you didn’t see Ellie or hear Rosie’s familiar babbling.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, you set down the jar in your hand and turned fully toward the door, a growing sense of unease building in your chest. You walked over to check the door, trying to calm the alarm bells ringing in your mind. But as your hand reached for the handle, the door wouldn’t budge.

It was locked.

A cold chill ran down your spine, and you turned quickly to face the room, dread pooling in your stomach. Standing by the shelves was Paul, his eyes fixed on you with an expression you couldn’t quite read—calm, yet unnerving.

“Paul,” you said, your voice low and controlled, though fear was rising inside you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t move, just stood there, blocking the only exit. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply, his voice almost conversational, like you were discussing the weather.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. “I’ve been busy,” you replied, stepping away from the door, putting distance between the two of you.

“I get that,” he said, taking a step forward, closing the gap. “But I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left to say, Paul,” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse racing. You tried to keep your movements calm, looking for a way out without escalating the situation.

Paul’s eyes darkened slightly. “You’ve always been different. I saw it the first time we met. You’re not like the others. Strong. Independent. And I was there when Joel wasn’t, remember? I took care of you.”

A wave of anger surged through you at his words. “Joel has always been there,” you said firmly, your voice sharpening. “And I don’t need anything from you.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, the calm mask he wore slipped. “I could’ve been good for you,” he muttered, his voice lowering, a bitter edge creeping in. “You should’ve given me a chance.”

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and you felt your muscles tense, ready for anything. “Unlock the door, Paul,” you said, keeping your tone steady but firm, your heart hammering in your chest.

He stared at you for a moment longer, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he finally moved toward the door, his hand resting on the lock. “I hope you think about what you’re throwing away,” he said, his voice cold now.

He unlocked the door, but didn’t open it. Instead, he stood there, watching you, as if waiting for you to say something. You didn’t. You just stared back at him, your resolve unwavering, until he finally opened the door and stepped out, leaving you alone in the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a shaky breath, your legs feeling weak beneath you.

You stood there for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened settle in. Your hands trembled slightly as you grabbed the supplies you’d been working on, trying to focus on anything to calm yourself down. But the fear and anger that Paul had stirred inside you wouldn’t leave. You had to get out of that room, out of the suffocating memory of his presence.

Leaving the supplies behind, you walked out of the storage room, making your way toward home. Every step felt heavier as your mind raced. You knew Joel had to know what had just happened, but you dreaded telling him. You could already imagine the storm that would follow—the fury in Joel’s eyes, his protective instincts kicking in. He wouldn’t take this lightly, and you didn’t want anything to happen that would make the situation even worse.

But Paul had crossed a line. He’d locked you in that room, he’d tried to manipulate you, and that was something you couldn’t let slide.

When you finally reached the house, your heart was pounding. The house felt empty without Joel or Ellie there. Rosie’s toys were scattered across the floor, a few baby blankets draped over the couch, and it brought you some comfort knowing that your daughter was safe, likely with Ellie or Maria.

You sat down for a moment, running your hands through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts. You couldn’t avoid this any longer.

Just as you were about to get up, the front door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, his face tired from a long day of patrol. He paused when he saw you sitting on the couch, his brows furrowing with concern as he sensed something was off.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming over to you. “You okay?”

You forced a small smile, nodding, though you felt like every nerve in your body was screaming the truth. Joel’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, sensing something was off despite your best efforts to hide it. He sat down beside you, reaching out and gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek in a way that made your guard falter.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “I can see it plain as day when something’s eating at you.”

A sigh escaped you, and you looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s... it’s just been a long day. The supplies inventory went a little longer than usual.” You winced at your own excuse, but the last thing you wanted was to burden him with this, not after everything he had already carried for you. And yet, the memory of Paul’s face as he’d locked that door lingered, filling you with an unease you couldn’t shake.

Joel’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you finally looked up to find his gaze fixed on you with that fierce, unwavering look that said he’d stand by you through anything. You could almost feel his determination, his need to protect. And you knew, deep down, that keeping this from him would only make things worse.

“Are you usure?” he asked, his soft brown eyes looking deep into your eyes.

“I’m sure,” you replied, forcing another smile that felt brittle on your lips. You could see the uncertainty lingering in his eyes, but you desperately wanted to believe your own words, to convince both him and yourself that everything was fine.

But as you spoke, the truth gnawed at you. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken worry hanging like a cloud between you. You could sense Joel's instincts kicking in, the way he was calculating every detail, every change in your expression.

“Okay,” he said slowly, though the skepticism in his tone was evident. “But if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. You don’t have to shoulder it alone.”

You nodded again, though the weight on your chest remained heavy. You wished you could share everything with him—the fear, the anger, the vulnerability—but you were afraid of what that might bring. Afraid of how he would react if he knew just how deep your scars ran.

Joel shifted closer, his presence radiating warmth and comfort. “Let’s go check on Rosie,” he suggested, a gentle smile breaking through his concern. “I think she might be waking up from her nap.”

You smiled up at him, a playful glint in your eye. “Oh no. Ellie stole Rosie. She took her on a walk.” You leaned your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. It was a comforting sound, grounding you in the moment.

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That girl’s gonna spoil her rotten,” he said, the worry in his voice easing just a bit as he relaxed into the light-hearted banter. “C’mon, let’s go rescue our baby from her.”

As you stepped outside, the crisp air greeted you, the autumn leaves swirling around in a golden dance. You spotted Ellie at the end of the street, her silhouette bouncing with Rosie strapped to her chest in a baby carrier.

“Look at that!” you said, nudging Joel playfully. “She’s got her all to herself.”

As you approached, Ellie turned to greet you, her grin wide. “Hey! We were just enjoying the fresh air. Rosie loves it out here!”

Joel’s brows furrowed slightly, a mix of concern and annoyance crossing his features. “You sure she’s okay out here?” he asked, eyeing the carrier with a protective gaze.

“Relax, old man,” Ellie teased, rolling her eyes but clearly enjoying the banter. “I’ve got this.”

You watched the exchange with a smile, appreciating the bond forming between them. It was a light-hearted moment that filled you with warmth, but even as you laughed and chatted with them, a flicker of unease nagged at you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Paul was still lingering in the background, like a storm cloud waiting to burst. But for now, in the safety of this moment with Joel and Rosie, you pushed those thoughts aside, choosing to savor the laughter and the love that surrounded you.

“Alright, let’s head back home,” you suggested, hoping to steer the conversation away from any looming threats. “I think Rosie could use a snack before her next nap.”

“Good idea,” Joel said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you all started to walk back. At that moment, surrounded by the people you loved, you felt a fleeting sense of safety, a reminder that there were still beautiful moments to hold onto amidst the chaos of life.

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. Joel lay in bed, propped up on one elbow, watching you sleep. Your face was relaxed, peaceful in the way only sleep could allow, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of contentment—where the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of those he loved most.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake you, and glanced over at Rosie’s crib, where their daughter slept soundly, a little bundle of joy. The way she curled up, her tiny fingers reaching out as if searching for comfort, tugged at his heart. It was a reminder of everything they had fought for, everything that had led them to this moment of relative peace.

But as he watched you, he also felt the weight of the past pressing down on him. As the sun continued to rise, casting a golden hue in the room, Joel felt an overwhelming urge to protect you both, to shield you from any harm that could come your way. He wanted to be the kind of man who could ensure you felt safe, cherished, and loved—every single day.

He gently reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment as he admired the way the morning light danced across your features. It was a simple act, but it filled him with warmth, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could create a life free of fear.

Just as he was about to lean in closer, Rosie stirred in her crib, letting out a soft coo. Joel’s gaze snapped to her, and a smile spread across his face. He glanced back at you, still lost in sleep, and quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb you.

He made his way to Rosie’s crib, lifting her gently into his arms. She let out a sleepy yawn, her eyes fluttering open, and he chuckled softly. “Good morning, little girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As he cradled Rosie, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be different. There was a strange feeling tugging his heart.

He wanted to talk to you, to reassure you that no matter what had happened, he was there for you, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away.

He carried Rosie into the kitchen, starting to prepare breakfast, humming softly to her as he moved about the space. The smell of coffee brewing filled the air, mixing with the scent of warm pancakes. He couldn’t wait for you to wake up and share the morning with him and Rosie, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

After a few moments, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. He turned, and there you were, stretching as you entered the kitchen, a sleepy smile gracing your lips. The sight of you made his heart race; you looked beautiful even in the early morning light.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the warmth in his tone betrayed the excitement he felt at seeing you.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice still thick with sleep. You glanced at Rosie in his arms, your eyes lighting up. “What’s going on over here?”

“Just making breakfast,” he said, moving closer so you could take Rosie from him.

You took Rosie, your face lighting up as she cooed in response. “You’re the best,” you said, planting a soft kiss on Rosie’s forehead.

Joel couldn’t help but grin, watching the two of you together. It was moments like this that reminded him of why he had fought so hard to protect you both. He wanted to create a life filled with love and happiness, a life where fear didn’t overshadow everything else.

As you moved to the kitchen table, settling Rosie in her high chair, he couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled on his heart.

After breakfast, the mood was light, laughter bubbling up between you and Joel as you tidied up the kitchen. But the reality of the day weighed heavily on Joel's shoulders as he checked the time. It was time for him to head out on patrol.

“Hey,” he said, brushing his fingers against your arm as he stepped closer. “You sure you’re okay with me leaving?” His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of concern lingering in his eyes.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just spending some time with Maria and Rosie today.” The reassurance seemed to ease some of the tension in his features.

“Alright.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that continued giving you butterflies inside your stomach.

With one last look at you and Rosie, Joel grabbed his gear and headed for the door, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house. You watched him leave, a mixture of pride and concern washing over you. You knew he had a duty to protect Jackson, but every time he walked out that door, your heart clenched a little tighter.

Once he was gone, you turned to Rosie, who was babbling happily in her high chair, her small hands reaching for the toys scattered around her. You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm; it was infectious.

“Looks like it’s just you and me today, kiddo,” you said, scooping her up and placing her on your hip. “Let’s go see Maria. She’ll love to see you.”

As you walked out the door, the crisp autumn air greeted you, and the vibrant colors of the leaves seemed to dance around you. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over Jackson, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

You strolled through the streets, greeting familiar faces as you made your way to Maria’s house. It felt good to be part of a community, to know that you were surrounded by people who cared about each other.

When you finally arrived, Maria was outside, tending to her garden. She looked up and smiled warmly at the sight of you and Rosie. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little girl!” she exclaimed, kneeling down to meet Rosie’s curious gaze.

“Hi, Maria!” you greeted, handing Rosie over so she could be cuddled in Maria’s arms.

“Come to brighten my day, have you?” Maria teased, cradling Rosie gently. “What are you two up to today?”

“Just thought we’d hang out, maybe help you with some chores around here,” you replied, the mention of chores bringing a smile to Maria’s face.

“That sounds perfect! I could use an extra set of hands.” She looked at you knowingly, her expression softening. “And it’ll be nice to catch up.”

As you entered the house, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble. Maria always had a way of making her home feel inviting and warm, just like her personality.

While Maria prepared some snacks, you settled onto the couch with Rosie, who was busy reaching for the various toys scattered around. “You’ve been so brave lately,” you murmured to her, feeling the weight of your own fears lift slightly in the comforting presence of Maria and Rosie.

“Paul threatened me yesterday” you confessed.

Maria paused her movements, “Joel went after him, didn’t he?” she asked after a long pause, her voice cautious.

You shook your head, feeling a mix of emotions rise in your chest. “He threatened me, Maria. He’s been hanging around, and I don’t feel safe anymore.”

Maria sighed, her expression conflicted. “I’m not defending Paul, believe me. What he did was wrong. But there’s something you need to know about him, about why he is the way he is.”

You looked up at her, surprised by the weight of her words. “What do you mean?”

Maria took a deep breath and walked over to the table, sitting down across from you. “Paul wasn’t always like this. When he first came to Jackson, he was different, quiet, kind, a good doctor. He’d just lost his wife and daughter in the outbreak, and I think that broke something in him. He’s been carrying that grief for years, and I think it’s twisted him into someone he wasn’t meant to be.”

You frowned, trying to reconcile the man Maria was describing with the one who had threatened you. “That doesn’t excuse what he did,” you said softly, more to yourself than to her.

“No, it doesn’t,” Maria agreed. “But it explains it. Paul never got help. He never really let himself heal. And now, he’s become this… person who tries to control everything because he couldn’t save the ones he loved. He’s stuck in that grief, and it’s poisoning everything around him.”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. It didn’t make you feel any better about what had happened, but it gave you a new perspective. Paul wasn’t just a man who had tried to manipulate and threaten you, he was a broken person, consumed by his own loss.

"I lost my family too," you murmured, your voice quiet but filled with a deep ache. "Joel lost his daughter." You felt the familiar sting of grief rise up in your chest. "He hasn’t done—" You paused, the weight of what you knew about Joel, the secrets he carried, pulling at you.

Maria looked at you, her expression soft but knowing. “It’s different for everyone,” she said gently, sensing the unfinished sentence. “Grief changes people in ways we can’t always predict. Some people shut down, some lash out… and some do things they never thought they’d be capable of.”

You swallowed hard, nodding but not trusting yourself to speak. Joel had done things—things that no one else knew, things that weighed heavily on him. And you had promised to carry those secrets with him, even if they still haunted you both.

“But what happened to Paul is not your burden to carry,” Maria added, her voice firm. “You’ve been through enough. You and Joel have your family to think about now, and Paul can’t be a part of that. I’ll talk to Tommy; we’ll make sure Paul knows he can’t come near you again.”

You nodded slowly, grateful for her understanding but still feeling uneasy. “I just want to feel safe, Maria. After everything… I just want to protect my family.”

Maria reached across the table and squeezed your hand. “You will. We’ll make sure of it.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, feeling a little lighter knowing that Maria was on your side. But as you sat there, sipping your tea and listening to the quiet sounds of Jackson waking up outside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things with Paul weren’t over. His pain, his brokenness—it wasn’t something that could be easily fixed or swept away. And while you didn’t want to live in fear, you couldn’t deny the sense of unease that lingered in the back of your mind.

Later that evening, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. You found yourself drawn to the bar in Jackson. Ellie was with Rosie at Dina’s place, assuring you she would take care of her while you could be yourself for a bit.

As you entered, the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air. You scanned the room, spotting a few friends from the community. The atmosphere was warm, and you tried to let the energy wash over you, but the nagging unease about Paul lingered in the back of your mind.

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink and chatting with the bartender for a moment. But as you turned to survey the crowd, your heart dropped. Paul was there, leaning against the far wall, a half-empty glass in his hand. He hadn’t seen you yet, but you could feel the tension in the air thicken.

You considered your options: you could leave, slip out the door before he noticed you, or you could stay and confront the fear that had been growing ever since your last encounter.

You took a deep breath, your pulse quickening as you weighed the choice. Deciding to stand your ground, you turned back to your drink, attempting to appear calm while keeping your gaze from drifting back in Paul’s direction.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. “Mind if I join you?” Paul’s voice cut through the noise, smooth but laced with an undercurrent of something darker.

You forced yourself to look at him, masking your discomfort with a polite smile. “Actually, I was just leaving,” you replied, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling inside.

He chuckled softly, a hint of arrogance in his demeanor. “You don’t have to be like that. I’m not here to cause trouble.” His eyes locked onto yours, searching, probing.

You crossed your arms defensively, unwilling to let him in. “Is that so? Because it feels like you have a knack for trouble.”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. “You don’t understand, do you? I know what you and Joel have been through. I can help you.”

A wave of anger surged through you, pushing you to your feet. “Help? By locking me in a room? By manipulating me?” You couldn’t keep the sharpness from your tone.

Paul’s smile faltered, and for a brief moment, you saw a flash of something, frustration, maybe even desperation “Actually I wanted to say sorry for that” he said.

You straightened, your heart racing as you felt a protective instinct for Joel kick in. “I don’t believe you.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you felt a chill creep down your spine. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he said, his tone shifting dangerously low.

Before you could respond, a figure appeared behind you. It was Joel, his presence commanding and protective. He caught your eye, a silent question passing between you.

“Everything okay here?” Joel asked, his gaze flickering to Paul, the tension in the air suddenly palpable.

“Just having a friendly chat,” Paul replied, his tone too casual. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his demeanor shifted as Joel approached.

Joel stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think you should be talking to her at all.”

You felt a mix of relief and fear wash over you, knowing that Paul was the last person you wanted to deal with while Joel was around. But you also saw the challenge in Paul’s gaze, a flicker of anger igniting in him.

“I was just leaving,” Paul said, his voice tight. “But I’ll be watching, you know.” He winked at you before pushing away from the wall, heading toward the exit.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for Joel’s presence but still shaken. “Are you okay?” Joel asked, his hand finding yours, grounding you in the moment.

“Yeah,” you replied, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I’ve got your back.” Joel reassured.

Later, some nights after that night, you found yourself wrapped in the warmth of your bed. The familiar scent of Joel lingered in the sheets, soothing your racing thoughts.

Joel lay beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he traced shapes in the air with his fingers, a contemplative look on his face. After a moment, he turned to you, propping himself up on one elbow. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern etched in his brow.

You met his gaze, trying to smile. “I am now. Just… a lot on my mind.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I get it. I don’t like that guy lurking around. But you don’t have to worry about him; he’s all talk.”

You swallowed, grateful for his reassurance but still unsettled. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want him to mess with our life here. I’m finally feeling like I belong.”

Joel’s face softened at that, and he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You belong here, with me and Rosie and Ellie. No one can take that from us.”

The warmth of his words washed over you, and you nodded, feeling a wave of comfort. “What about tomorrow? What are you thinking?”

Joel smiled, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “I was thinking about finding a guitar for Ellie. I promised I’d teach her a few songs, and she’s been talking about it nonstop.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Ellie learning to play. “That sounds perfect. She’ll love that.”

“Yeah,” Joel said, a hint of a grin creeping onto his lips. “I was hoping you’d join me. It’d be nice to have you there, and I could use your eye for spotting a good guitar.”

The idea brightened your mood, and you found yourself nodding eagerly. “I’d love to. It’ll be fun to spend time with you outside.”

“Good,” he replied, a sense of relief washing over his features.

“But what about Rosie?” you inquired.

“I already talked to Tommy, Maria is helping at watching her, so don’t worry, mama” he said, caressing your arm.

You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and for a moment, the weight of the world outside melted away.

“Joel?” you murmured, looking up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything. For keeping me safe and for being here.”

His expression turned serious, and he placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer. “I’d do it all over again if it means keeping you and Rosie safe. You’re my world.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. “And you’re mine.”

“I’ll go mad if something happens to you” he said.

The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a warm glow over Jackson. You and Joel stepped outside, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs with each breath. The vibrant leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, the colors painting the landscape in hues of orange and gold. It felt like a perfect day for an adventure.

Joel’s hand found yours as you strolled along the familiar path, his touch grounding you in the moment. “You ready for this?” he asked, a hint of excitement lacing his voice.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your spirits lifted by the beauty of the day and his presence by your side. “I can’t wait to see Ellie’s face when she gets that guitar.”

“Me neither. Just hope we find a good one,” he said, glancing sideways at you with a grin.

As you walked, you chatted about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily. It was moments like these that made you realize how far you had come from the chaos of your past. The threat of the outside world felt distant, and for a while, you could just be.

“Look at that view,” you said, stopping to take in the sprawling landscape before you. The mountains stood majestically in the distance, their peaks dusted with early signs of winter.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Joel agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon.

You stepped into the shop, the door creaking ominously behind you. The interior was dim, lit only by the flickering light of the rays of sunshine. Dust danced in the air, swirling around forgotten instruments that lined the walls, remnants of a world that once thrived.

Joel moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the shop for any signs of danger. “Keep your head on a swivel,” he murmured, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, feeling a familiar knot of tension in your stomach. Every sound seemed amplified in the stillness of the shop. You stayed close to Joel, your heart racing as you navigated through the narrow aisles filled with instruments. You couldn’t shake the feeling that danger lurked just beyond the walls.

Joel picked up a guitar from a nearby rack, strumming a few notes. The sound was rich and resonant, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped the town outside. “This one sound good,” he said, a flicker of excitement breaking through his serious demeanor.

“Perfect for Ellie,” you replied, forcing a smile. The tension still hung in the air, but you wanted to enjoy this moment, to reclaim a sliver of normalcy even in a world turned upside down.

As Joel inspected the guitar, you glanced out the grimy window, your heart tightening at the sight of the empty street. Jackson felt safe, but you couldn’t shake the memories of the horrors you had all faced. The ever-looming threat of raiders or infected was never far from your mind, even in the moments of calm.

“Let’s hurry,” you urged, a sense of urgency creeping in. “I don’t like being out in the open for too long.”

Joel nodded, placing the guitar back on its stand. “You’re right. Let’s see if there’s anything else we can grab before heading out.”

You moved deeper into the shop, scanning the shelves for any useful supplies. A few picks and a worn-out tuner caught your eye, and you quickly grabbed them. Just then, a faint rustle echoed from the back room.

Joel stiffened, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife tucked into his belt. “Stay close,” he said, his voice low and serious.

You felt your heart race as you moved beside him, every instinct screaming to prepare for the worst. The rustling grew louder, and Joel nodded toward the back room, signaling for you to stay put as he crept toward the sound.

As he approached, the rustling stopped. You held your breath, every muscle tense as you watched him disappear into the shadows. Moments felt like hours as you waited, fear coursing through you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Then, you heard it—a muffled sound, a faint cry. Panic surged within you. “Joel!” you called again, urgency propelling you forward.

Joel emerged from the shadows of the back room, his expression a mixture of relief and caution. “It’s just a cat,” he said, his voice steady, though you could see the tension in his shoulders. He stepped aside to reveal a small, scruffy tabby, its green eyes blinking in the dim light.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for the distraction but still shaken. “Just a cat?” you said, half-laughing, half-sighing. “I thought it was something serious.”

“Don’t let it fool ya,” Joel replied, kneeling down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Even the little ones can bite.”

You smiled at his comment, but the nagging feeling in your chest remained. Something felt off. It had been too quiet out there, and you couldn’t shake the sensation that trouble was lurking just beyond the walls of your temporary safety.

After gathering a few supplies, you felt the weight of worry settling heavily on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus on the task at hand; your thoughts kept drifting back to Rosie.

“Joel,” you murmured, glancing back toward the entrance, “we need to hurry. I have a bad feeling about Rosie.”

He looked at you, concern etched across his features. “You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, biting your lip. “But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s like something is off.”

Joel nodded, his expression turning serious. “Alright, let’s finish up here and head back. We’ll check on her.”

As you left the shop, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the deserted streets. The eerie silence wrapped around you like a thick fog, making every step feel more precarious than the last.

Once you reached your home, the sense of unease deepened. You pushed the door open, calling out, “Rosie! Ellie!” Silence filled the room, and your stomach dropped.

“Where are they?” you whispered, panic creeping in.

Joel’s face tightened as he moved through the house, checking rooms with quick precision. “They might be outside,” he suggested, though you could see the concern in his eyes mirrored your own.

You rushed to the backyard, calling out for Ellie and Rosie, but only the rustling of leaves answered. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, shadows stretching long across the ground. The peaceful atmosphere of Jackson suddenly felt ominous.

“Joel!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “What if something happened? What if Paul—”

As you approached Maria’s home, your steps quickened, a feeling of unease settling deep in your stomach. Joel, sensing it too, sped up beside you, his hand brushing your arm to reassure you.

You knocked once, then twice, before pushing the door open, calling out, “Maria?” But there was no response. Just silence.

Your heart pounded as you moved quickly through the house, each room emptier than the last, until you reached the back room. There was Maria, alone, her face pale and her hands clenched in a fist.

“Maria, where’s Rosie?” Joel asked, his voice tight, barely masking his growing fear.

Maria looked up, guilt and sorrow written across her face. “I... I put her down for a nap, and I just stepped out to check on something in the kitchen. I swear, I was only gone for a minute, but when I came back...” Her voice faltered, breaking as she looked away. “She was gone.”

A cold wave of fear washed over you as you stumbled back, your mind racing with questions, each more terrifying than the last. Joel’s face had gone pale, his hands clenched as he took a step forward.

"Who saw her? Did anyone see anything?" Joel's voice was barely controlled, but Maria shook her head.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I... I never thought—”

Without another word, Joel turned and stormed out of the house, and you followed him, your own heart pounding with panic as you raced into the street. People began to gather, sensing something was wrong, whispers passing between them.

"Paul," Joel muttered, his jaw clenched with such intensity that you could see the tension rippling through his shoulders.

A knot twisted in your stomach as his words sank in. You hadn’t seen Paul in days, and the thought that he could have taken Rosie filled you with a terror so deep it was paralyzing. But Joel’s fierce determination grounded you, his hand reaching out to squeeze yours tightly, his gaze steely as he looked at you.

“We’re getting her back,” he said, voice low and unshakable. "No matter what it takes."

“No,” you said firmly, meeting Joel’s intense gaze. “I’m going to get her back.”

He shook his head, looking as though he was about to argue, but you placed a hand on his chest, your expression resolute.

“I know Paul. He’s obsessed with me, Joel. If he sees you coming, he’ll… he might hurt her just to get to me. But if I go, I can talk to him, convince him.” Your voice was steady, stronger than you felt, but deep down, you knew this was the only way. “He wants me to come to him. Let me do this.”

Joel’s jaw clenched as he searched your face, the raw desperation in his eyes mirroring your own. “I can’t let you go in there alone,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, holding his gaze. “I promise, you won’t.”

After a long, agonizing moment, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Alright,” he said, his voice rough, strained. “But I’ll be right behind you. I’ll keep my distance, but I’ll be close, watching, ready.”

You nodded, relief and fear warring within you as you squeezed his hand. “I know you will.”

With one last look, you turned and headed toward the edge of Jackson, your heart hammering as you moved toward the place you suspected Paul might be hiding. You could feel Joel’s presence following you at a careful distance, his silent promise of backup giving you the strength to take each step forward.

As you reached the secluded area outside the town, you spotted an old cabin tucked within the trees. It looked run-down, barely visible from the path, but a faint light flickered through the window—a sign of life.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the door, keeping your composure steady even as every instinct screamed at you to run. You knocked, and a shuffling sound came from inside. Then, the door creaked open, and there he was—Paul, his eyes lighting up with a twisted sense of satisfaction as he saw you.

“I knew you’d come,” he said, his tone smug and expectant, his gaze flickering with a manic gleam. “I knew you’d understand… that you’d finally come to your senses.”

“Where’s my daughter, Paul?” You kept your voice calm, unwavering, as you held his gaze.

He hesitated, his face twisting with something dark. “She’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt something… something that’s part of you.” He stepped back, motioning for you to come inside. “She’s in here, waiting for her mother.”

You steeled yourself and stepped inside, eyes scanning the dim room until you spotted Rosie in the corner, bundled in blankets, asleep but unharmed. Relief flooded through you, but you kept your expression controlled, knowing that any sudden reaction could set Paul off.

“Paul,” you began, keeping your tone soft, as non-threatening as possible. “You don’t have to do this. We can go back to Jackson. I’ll come with you. Just let me hold my daughter first.”

He looked at you, suspicion flickering in his eyes, but he nodded slowly. As you approached Rosie, every muscle in your body tensed, ready to grab her and make your escape.

Just as you picked her up, Rosie stirred, and her eyes fluttered open, her tiny face relaxing as she saw you. You held her close, your heart pounding with both relief and terror as you turned back to Paul.

Paul watched you, his eyes hollow and haunted, but behind that darkness was something else—a hint of pain, sorrow. His gaze lingered on Rosie, softening just a little, but it returned to you with a fierce, unsettling intensity.

“You remind me of her, you know?” he began, his voice low, almost a murmur. “My wife. She was… strong, like you. Determined.”

You held his gaze, wary but silent, waiting to see where he was going with this. He continued, his eyes distant, as if he were seeing something from a lifetime ago.

“I lost them both. My wife, my daughter—they were everything. We were together, out there in the wilderness, surviving. I thought… I thought we’d be safe. But one day, it was just me.” He paused, his face twisting as he choked back something raw. “Just me. I couldn’t save them.”

Your heart twisted with a twinge of pity, the sorrow in his words tugging at you, but you kept your guard up, knowing how quickly his demeanor could shift.

“You—you and Rosie,” he said, his voice cracking. “It felt like fate when I saw you that day. Like I’d been given a second chance to protect someone.” He took a step closer, and you tightened your grip on Rosie, keeping her secure.

“Paul… I understand that pain,” you said softly, hoping to reach the part of him that was still rational. “But I’m not her. And Rosie… she’s Joel’s daughter. We have our own lives.”

He looked at you, his expression darkening with a flash of anger. “But he can’t protect you like I can. He doesn’t know what it’s like to lose everything like I do. You should be with someone who understands—who would do anything to keep you safe.”

You took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze. “Joel knows that pain too. He lost his own daughter… and he’s done nothing but protect us, even from things like this. I’m sorry, Paul. I know you’re hurting. But you have to let go.”

He shook his head, the bitterness etched into his face as he clenched his fists. “You don’t get it. You were supposed to be my second chance.”

Just then, movement outside the window caught your eye, and you realized Joel was close, watching, ready to act. You turned back to Paul, feeling a surge of courage as you took a small step forward.

Paul’s face twisted with rage as he realized what was happening, his hand darting toward his belt, where a knife glinted in the dim light. But before he could make a move, Joel burst through the door, his presence a wall of fury and determination.

As soon as Paul saw Joel approaching, something in him snapped. His face twisted with desperation and anger, and in one quick, impulsive move, he shoved you out of the way. You stumbled back, caught off-guard, and before you could steady yourself, your head struck the corner of a table with a sickening thud. The world around you spun, and then everything went dark.

Joel’s heart dropped as he watched you collapse, unconscious, with Rosie still in your arms. A flash of fury crossed his face as he looked back at Paul, whose regret flickered only for a brief moment before being replaced by fear. Without hesitation, Joel moved forward, carefully scooping you and Rosie up into his arms, his eyes never leaving Paul.

“You’ve done enough,” he growled, his voice tight with barely restrained rage. “Stay away from my family.”

With that, Joel lunged at Paul

Joel's fist connected with Paul's jaw, the force of the punch sending him sprawling to the ground. Paul grunted in pain, his eyes wide with shock and anger, but Joel didn’t give him a chance to recover. He was on him in an instant, kneeling beside him with fury blazing in his eyes.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Joel hissed, his voice a low growl. He grabbed Paul by the collar, ready to land another blow, but Tommy’s voice cut through the haze of rage.

“Joel! Wait!” Tommy shouted as he stepped into the room, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “We need to handle this differently!”

Joel’s breathing was heavy, the adrenaline coursing through him. He looked back at Paul, who was scrambling to his feet, but then he turned his focus to you.

He dropped to his knees beside you, cradling you and Rosie in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, trying to soothe Rosie, who was wailing. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you both.”

Rosie’s little hands clutched at your clothes, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Joel, searching for comfort. The sight of you unconscious, the blood trickling from your temple, sent a fresh wave of panic through him.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he urged, gently shaking your shoulder. “Please, just open your eyes.”

“Joel,” Tommy said, kneeling beside you, his expression serious. “We need to get her to Maria. She can help.”

Joel nodded, his jaw clenched. “Right.” He carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He felt the warmth of your blood seeping through your clothes, and it made his stomach churn.

“Rosie, come on,” Joel said softly, glancing at his daughter, who was still sniffling. “We’re going to take care of Mommy, okay? You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m right here,” Joel whispered, holding you tighter, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He started moving toward the exit, Tommy leading the way to ensure they could get through the chaos of the bar.

As they stepped outside, the sunlight hit Joel's face, the brightness contrasting sharply with the darkness of the situation. The street was alive with the hustle of Jackson, but in that moment, all he could focus on was you and Rosie.

“Tommy, get help!” Joel commanded, his voice low and urgent. He could feel the tension coiling within him, a mix of anger at Paul and fear for your well-being.

Tommy nodded, sprinting off toward the clinic. Joel turned his attention back to you, feeling your body against him. You were still unconscious, and the sight of the blood on your temple made his heart race with anxiety. He needed you to wake up, to fight through this.

“Stay with me, please,” he whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. I need you to open those beautiful eyes for me.”

As they reached the infirmary, Joel burst through the doors, his heart pounding. He called out for Lena, and within moments, she appeared, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she rushed over.

“What happened?” she asked, quickly assessing the situation.

“Paul... he—” Joel stammered, glancing down at you in his arms, “He pushed her. She hit her head.”

Lena nodded, her hands moving, delicately “Get her on the table,” she instructed, guiding Joel to a nearby exam table. He gently laid you down, feeling Rosie cling tightly to his leg.

“It’s okay, Rosie. Mommy’s gonna be okay,” he reassured, but doubt crept into his mind.

Lena started examining you, her hands steady and practiced. “Joel, I need you to step back for a moment.”

“No,” he said fiercely, unwilling to leave your side. “I’m staying right here.”

“Joel,” she said firmly, her eyes meeting his, “I can’t help her if you’re in the way. Trust me. She is gonna be okay.”

Now, as you lay unconscious in the infirmary back in Jackson, Joel was a wreck. He hadn't left your side since Tommy and a few others had found you in the remote cabin, blood trickling from your temple, unconscious and barely breathing. Paul had disappeared—vanished before anyone could catch him. The sight of you lying on that cold floor, helpless, had destroyed Joel in a way he hadn’t felt since Sarah’s death.

Joel was beside you now, his hand gripping yours, his face hollowed with sleepless nights and worry. He couldn’t keep his emotions in check anymore. “I swear to God,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ll kill him. I’ll find him, and I’ll make sure he never gets close to you again.”

But there was a vulnerability in him, one he couldn’t hide. His thumb brushed against your knuckles, his lips tight, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. He hadn’t protected you, not like he promised. Paul had gotten close to you and Rosie, and Joel hadn’t seen it coming.

Tears filled his eyes, something that hadn’t happened since Sarah. “I let this happen. I should’ve known… I should’ve been there.” He shook his head, looking down at you, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. “You don’t deserve this. Not you.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small, simple ring he had found not long ago. His fingers trembled as he held it in his palm, staring down at it. “I found this for you,” he whispered. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but now…” His breath hitched, and he let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Now I’m sitting here, talking to you while you’re not even awake.”

He gently slid the ring onto your finger, his heart aching as he did. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking. “And when you wake up, you’re marrying me. That’s a damn promise. I know marriage doesn’t hold the same meaning as before, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I love you, every single day.”

Joel leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath shaky as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. “Just wake up, baby. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

And as Joel sat there, his heart breaking all over again, you stirred. It was faint at first, a small twitch of your hand in his, but it was enough. Joel’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with hope.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice filled with both desperation and relief. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m right here. Just open your eyes for me.”

Slowly, painfully, you did. The room swam into focus, blurry at first, but the first thing you saw was Joel’s tear-streaked face hovering over you. His hand squeezed yours, and the relief in his eyes was overwhelming.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he cupped your face gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” He kissed your forehead, then your temple, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

You felt the weight of the ring on your finger, and despite everything, a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “Is this… your way of proposing?” you rasped, your voice hoarse from the injury and exhaustion.

Joel let out a breathless laugh, his own tears spilling over as he nodded. “Damn right it is,” he whispered. “And when you’re feeling better, we’re gonna make it official.”

You squeezed his hand weakly, the pain still radiating through your body, but you knew one thing for sure: you were going to be okay. You had Joel, and despite everything Paul had done, he couldn’t take that away from you.

Joel smiled through his tears, pressing another kiss to your hand. “I love you,” he whispered, “I’m never letting you go.”

Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @kulekehe @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet

If you want to be removed, feel free to tell me.

[killertoons]

I've got ideas and a theory for the recent welcome home updates (10/18/2024)

Walk with me-

So that short story alone already showed pulling ideas from Edgar Allen Poe with the tell-tale heart and the cast of amontillado

(I wouldnt be shocked if they reference other Edgar Allen poes works like the raven soon but that's me cheating to peek at clowns kofi and I won't speak further on that-)

Basically Sally is doing a rendition of the tell-tale heart and poppy got cast....only she doesn't want to be involved. It's a scary tale, and for those who didn't take advanced English

The story of the tell-tale hearts about a man so absolutely freaked out by this old man's eyes to quote

'I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture- a pale blue eye, with a film over it.'

So the man sets out to kill him, does so by lurking in the dark for 7 straight nights till finally the 8th night he finally does so, dismembered him and hide the pieces under the floorboards!

But when police came to investigate...he could hear both but a beating heart under the floors and from his guilt he admitted to the murder and ended the tale with

'"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!- tear up the planks!-here, here!- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

So already Sally doing a rendition of this tale is wild already as I imagine it's been changed to be more family friendly for the neighborhood, but poppy isn't up for it.

And Sally's sad about it! And of course the neighbors all know why poppy actually didn't wanna do it. And Sally trying to be a good friend realized the play scares her so they gotta do something to let poppy have her cozy state of mind away from anxiety

So they form their plan-

To cask of amontillado her into her house, brick by brick.

Another famous story by Edgar Allen Poe, that one is about a guy luring someone he had a dispute over into a cellar and bricking him up down there to rot.

It's a revenge story, one we have no details other than a man was wronged (we never learn the reason) his anger and vengeance taking center stage.

Through the entire story time, the neighbors are supposed to be following a book along as a read aloud story but they keep breaking into separate lil conversations or making quips to each other... Till the end where audio is lost on the rest of the story after poppy was bricked away.

However...

Because we have the secret website we can check there and what's found was....worse

Poppy in the dark of her barn and something is lurking with her in the dark.

By the end someone gets her out but the sounds of the people aren't named... although they sound familiar to us

I could say what we were all thinking and state the obvious "oh those must be the puppeteers! That was poppy's puppeteer having a freak out moment-"

Which I personally agree but there's more to it.

Do y'all know how big birds puppet works?

It's one person in there, with a screen to tell you where to go and a script taped inside while they maneuver around like this!

I imagine poppy is the same way since she's based design wise off big bird

Now with this in mind, add how hard it is to move or see or perceive where you are in general in that suit. How clasterphobic your gonna be if you can't get out!

I get clasterphobic trying to get out of a dress that fits too tight at the store, I can't imagine how scary this would be especially if your on your own in the dark room as well!

with only your lantern to read your lines and something to occupy yourself- maybe knitting as it's a hobby you picked up-

When you hear breathing that's not yours. From within the suit. A suit that's JUST big enough for you, mind you.

So it be impossible for anyone else to be breathing...only you forgot someone.

The puppet suit itself...is breathing.

And there's scratching at the door, something else is lurking in the dark with you but you can't see it. You can't get out, the suit can't leave but your mind is stuck the doors open but in another world it's closed and sealed-

But I'm getting ahead of myself

What is said is...what if that IS poppy reacting in the dark to something...but also it's the puppeteers reaction to poppy as well. They share a mind and A space for a moment in the dark where their fear matches them and it doesn't break till the door opens and the puppeteers talk..

I think the horror is going higher as both sides are gonna start interacting more and more with each other..

[miupow]

I need more crave beomgyu thoughts so bad. He’s so scary but fine 😭😩. Imagine him cumming and breeding you for hours using you like a sex toy and not letting any of the other members join at all. He’s not going to admit but he’s secretly grown a soft spot for you himself

i couldn't stop myself...

CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!beomgyu headcanons ⭑𓂃

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!bg (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au lol. breeding kink, knotting, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, creampies, dirty talk, general craveverse nastiness

SFW ;

-> middle child syndrome crave!gyu who is always arguing with his brothers about the dumbest, littlest things lol. especially soobin and yeonjun he loves pissing them off

-> crave!gyu who is the packs baby so he can get away with being an absolute menace ! his brothers always there to defend him and tell you that “it’s just beomgyu, he doesn’t mean anything by it.. “ when he says something particularly nasty or pushes you around. just enabling him tbh

-> crave!gyu who secretly loves to be taken care of!! loves when you dote on him, play with his hair, mend his clothes and cook him meals, he turns into such a sweet puppy!! gets all blushy when you do something special for him or give him special attention <3 a little tsundere about it hehe

-> crave!gyu who has the best sense of smell in the pack, can track down scent trails like a bloodhound, can sense slight changes in a persons mood just by the way they smell. can always tell when you’re upset even when you’re hiding it!! and if he’s not the reason you’re sad,.. he will find out who is and he’ll make them regret it!! fully “no one is allowed to bully y/n except me!!!”

-> crave!gyu who enjoys collecting trinkets he finds in the woods or in the outskirts of human villages. pretty stones, antlers and bones, human items like spoons or can openers, reminds him of his childhood as a human (lore??) likes brining you little gifts he finds while telling you it’s definitely not because he’s thinking about you or anything. because you’re definitely not on his mind 24/7… but he found a very pretty flower on his walk and he wants you to have it.

-> crave!gyu who is touch starved beyond belief omg ,, can’t get enough of your touch once you give it to him. always wanting to cuddle, rest his shaggy head on your chest, have you run your fingers through his long messy hair. growls at the others when they try to take you away from him :3

-> crave!gyu who hides the fact that he’s jealous of the others because you trust them, are comfortable around them and not with him.. especially yeonjun. gets even more argumentative and disrespectful with him because of it.

-> overall crave!gyu who is a big sweet puppy beneath all of his hardships and defenses, gets broken down little by little until he just wants to love and be loved. he thought he would never trust a human again, would never learn to love one… but you are the only exception.

-> and finally crave!gyu who secretly wants more than anything for you to turn, join their pack as another wolf !! wants that connection with you that only the moon could give him.. you would be a proper pack then.

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> crave!gyu who has the roughest ruts of them all, a turned wolf instead of a blood one like his brothers are. (kai is technically only a half wolf but it’s uh. it’s a long story) he just gets so aggressive and violent , needs to be locked up like a prisoner otherwise he’ll destroy furniture, try to kill the others, keep you captive and not let anyone else near you !! especially can’t be around you … all he can think about is getting you away from the others and getting you full of his babies !

-> crave!gyu who insists that you’re just a disposable toy outside of rut but when he’s in rut, suddenly you’re his mate, his omega, his his his.

-> crave!gyu who won’t share you with anyone if he can have a say in it! who has to leave the farmhouse if you’re “with” one or more of his brothers because he just can’t stand to sit around and listen!!! you sound so pretty when you get knotted, that should be him dammit!!!!

-> crave!gyu who loves to leave nasty love bites all over your skin <3 down your neck, shoulders, especially your breasts and tummy!! never hard enough to hurt, but enough to bruise pretty purple so everyone can see~

-> crave!gyu who loves to spit the nastiest shit about his packmates when he’s breeding you good, he fucks you better than yeonjun does, doesn’t he? his cock hits deeper in your tummy than taehyuns does, huh? his knot is thicker than kais is, isn’t it? he satisfies you better than any of them could, right? chose him love him pick him omg (it’s a facade he’s very insecure)

-> crave!gyu who gets cuddly after he’s filled you up, likes to nuzzle into your neck and hold you close :( won’t let you go anywhere until he’s fallen asleep and you can slip away

[msnihilist]

Your idea of playing with your dollies is a father sexually abusing his son. And you romanticize it. And before you argue “Yeah but there’s dark content in media that romanticizes it!” Yes, they exist but it does not mean it’s depicted in a positive light. It’s portrayed as scary and traumatizing to the character in question. And while they’re not an actual person, it hits home to victims. There is nothing okay with going “tee hee rape!”

Yep, it sure is! And I sure do :)

"that does not mean it's depicted in a positive light" I'm sorry, did you think that the cannibalism in Hannibal was just ketchup, too, or something? Dark media constantly romanticizes this sort of stuff. The primary relationship in Hannibal is scary and traumatizing, yes, but also romantic. The good ending is that the two toxic lovers eat people together.

Black Butler has two cousins in a romantic relationship, and their engagement is taken very seriously by them both and is in fact a core component of their characters. It's an incestuous relationship played completely straight and taken seriously by the writer and is definitely not scary or traumatizing.

Invincible has a relationship between an immortal man and a girl who is 20 at the most (literally a part of "Teen Team," I doubt she's older than that), and not only is it shown to be healthy, but her death devastates this man, even having lost so many others in his long, long life.

In Futurama, one of the main characters time traveled and fucked (and impregnated) his grandmother. Not only is this not shown to be scary or traumatizing, it's a reoccuring joke, referenced multiple times, and it is plot-important so you can't even explain the underlying plot of the show without mentioning it.

The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey is a horror game, and the good ending is the brother and sister characters fucking each other. Incest is literally good for them.

So, yes, media depicts these topics in a positive light frequently. Do you know why? Because no one cares.

This is all adult content made for adult consumers, and if you need everything you read or watch to tell you that rape and incest are bad, then you are the problem.

Do you know what does hit home to victims? My writing. My best friend is someone I met through my writing. She told me that as someone who had been abused and groomed, my stories where the underage character and the adult get a happy ending make her cry. Why? Because in fiction, I have the power to make this story have a happy ending.

In my fantasy world, the kind adult isn't secretly a predator. There is no power imbalance. The kid can be emotionally mature enough to handle this relationship. The adult can actually be safe and not just a creep. The relationship can last a long time and be safe and happy for the both — because it's not real.

It gives my friend (and victims like her) great comfort to indulge a bit, and imagine that their story could have ended happily, too. Obviously, it couldn't have in reality — that's why my friend is reading about it instead of running back to her abuser.

Stop trying to police fantasy. You are hurting people — harmless thoughts are not.

[echantedtoon]

Oh, Rats

You find a wounded rodent on a stroll by Big Ben and being the kind lady you were, you take it home and tend to it until it gets better. Little do you know what you've done.

(This was really inspired by @sindysugar and @lilgrimmapple   I really adore their artwork and story involving The Great Mouse Detective and If you get a chance please check out their stuff. Warnings for Ratigan being in bad shape with some broken bones.)

"I don't like that."

"Don't like what?"

A thunderstorm rolled across the sky that night. The sun was just setting over the horizon with the last few rays of daylight disappearing but it was hard to tell when the dark storm clouds took over the sky and claimed them as their own. Thunder shaking the lanes of the windows and lightning sounded off like an angry whip from whatever deity was angrily stomping around the clouded skies, lighting up the sky and city below for nothing but a brief second. 

It would've been absolutely dark if you hadn't lit up a few candles inside the comfy room and placed them on the table to light up the room. The warm light comforting against the scary night sky that just appeared as the last few daylights were chased away. The candlelight lighting up the scowling scrunched up face of the old maid that peered downwards at the rather large vanity in the room. It was large enough to be used as a vanity, work desk, and table so you used it as such. But lately it's had a new purpose. And it's purpose being the temporary home for your temporary new roommate. 

"I swear whatever this...this THING is it's evil!," she spoke pointing out a little but decently sized caged sitting on the vanity. It had been an old bird cage stored in the attic but you'd brought it out again to use it for someone else. "The way it just looks at everyone..." She shivered. "I swear it's almost human like! It's disturbing!"

"Calm down, Olga." Your calm voice usually soothed the older woman of any worries but lately her insistence has been a bother. Soft hands closed the curtains to your window hiding the sights of the gloomy storm outside. "He's just a harmless little mouse, and you don't have to take care of him. So why does his presence in one room of the house where you can just easily avoid him forever bother you so?"

The woman never looked up from where or more accurately WHO and WHAT she was staring at giving a loud huff of disapproval. "Hmph. It's his look that bothers me. I swear that evil smugness he always gives me is unlike a rodent!"

You sighed again as she finally turned up her nose, laundry in her arms. This happened every day since you first brought it home. Brought HIM home. Ignoring her worries, your footsteps echoed in the room making the small journey across the room to the vanity and smiled at the little occupant of the cage. 

"Hello there. Is Olga being a worrier again?" Your voice softly cooed.

Black eyes turned up towards you from the inside, teeth on display but you knew it wasn't malicious. He just seemed to like his teeth showing. Honestly it looked almost like a smirk but that was ridiculous. Mice couldn't have enough thought process to smirk. Olga was just imagining things as usual. 

"I find it disturbing how you treat it?"

"Don't like how I treat him how?," you questioned playfully wagging a finger at the cage like it was a kitten instead of a mouse.

"That! Like THAT!!" A finger released itself from the laundry she held to point at you. "You talk to that creature as if it was a human! It's disturbing and not normal!"

You again sighed tiredly before looking at her. "I talk to them the same as I do everyone else. Is that so wrong?"

"YES! It's not an equal it's a filthy vermin!"

"He's not filthy. He had a bath yesterday and I cleaned the cage this morning."

"That isn't what I meant and you know that."

Another soft sigh left your mouth along with a tired eye roll. This has happened over and over again with Olga. Honestly the older woman didn't like any animals unless it was cooked on a plate for her to eat, so this wasn't an unusual occurrence but it has been the first time she's been so insistent about you getting rid of the animal. She must really not like like mice. 

She hated him the moment you brought the poor thing home with you. It was on a similarly stormy night actually just like this one some weeks ago. You were taking a stroll through the streets of London after a day of shopping but lost track of time. A storm was coming in from the thick fog and made itself known. You decided to take a short cut past the famous Big Ben to get home faster but something else had caught your hurried attention.

As you hurried down the sidewalks with thunder sounding overhead and the fog clouding the streets, your footsteps echoed throughout the dark streets eerily, something caught your eye. A single black lump laid out upon the middle of said sidewalk making you slow down to a stop until it was but a yard away from you. What was..that? It looked at first like a black blob a little larger than a single one of your hands within the fog but as you slowly approached, it began to form more clearer and take shape. It was a-..

A large mouse? Rat maybe?

Whichever one it was, it laid face down splayed against the concrete covered in some kind of tattered black cloth. ..Poor thing. Many people considered rodents in general a burden and considered it good fortune at seeing one dead but you couldn't help but feel sorry for it. Maybe it was because you loved animals but you did feel sorry for it. It must've been stepped on by someone or maybe run over by a moving carriage the wheels throwing it onto the sidewalk with their momentum. Although you hadn't the faintest idea why it was covered in black fabric. Maybe it crawled out from a dumpster tangled in it? Or had someone tied a bag around it only for the animal to shred it apart? You had no idea. 

But SOMETHING important caught your attention as you took a closer look at it. It's chest slowly and shakily rising and falling in shaking breaths. A wheezing breathing gasping sound exiting it's mouth as it desperately clung onto life. It's body shook lightly with every gasp. It was-

"You're alive."

Olga shrieked when you got home shopping bags around your elbows and a half dead unconscious rodent in your hands wrapped up in your handkerchief. She shrieked at you that it carried diseases and it was dirty and it should die and you should throw it out the door right that second! You ignored her of course because she always reacted this way whenever you brought home an animal and sent for the local veterinarian. 

"He's incredibly lucky to be alive," the doctor had told you after the animal had been properly cleaned up and treated. "Any more time out there, especially in the rain, and he would've died. I don't know where you find these beasts but as my best customer my service is yours."

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Certainly! He has some broken bones specifically some broken ribs and some wounds but with proper treatment he should be back to normal again in no time! I'll write down the care he needs and prescribe some medicine that ought to help."

Your care had been going on for a while now since then and he's been doing so much better! You made sure he was given a good clean space to stay in and comfortable things that seemed to make him feel better. Though it was quite odd for a mouse. He seemed to prefer the water you gave him in a smallish wine glass (small to a human not him), and he seemed to not like the scraps you tried giving himself. You tried giving him fresh food cut from your daily meals, which worked better. It was almost like he preferred to be served actual meals like you were a maid instead of feasting on scraps like mice usually do. But you supposed after spending so much time outside any animal would want fresh food instead of old scraps. His bed was an old cushion that was torn apart by a cat you were also caring for but had managed to sew the scrapped fabric up enough to make him a small pillow to rest on. Which he was doing now.

"You said that about every animal I've cared for," you pointed out to her raising a brow. "Like the dog with the broken leg. You said he was possessed by an evil spirit. Or the carriage horse. You say that he's waiting for you to get in front of him to run you over!"

"I stand by both of those statements still thank you very much! But this thing-" she shuddered hard. "There's something else about him that's borderline evil!"

"He's not evil. He's a mouse-"

"That thing tried to bite me through the cage first week he was here!," he accused.

"That's because you yelled at him and hit his cage which I told you NOT to do!," you countered back with a frown and crossed arms. "He was hurt, irritated, and you scared him being aggressive like that." 

You remembered that day. Olga shrieked and SWORE he was smirking at her and called him a qoute 'disgusting, filthy, disease carrying, germ and flea infested, ugly RAT' before hitting her fist on top of his cage. She almost got bit when the mouse let out a rather loud squeak. A rage fueled squeak that sounded almost like a shriek itself as it lashed out and was almost able  to catch her pinky finger in his teeth. To this day you've never heard any rodent sound like that. You had to physically shove the hysterical screaming woman out of your room and lock the door to prevent her from swinging the broom at the cage and it took nearly an hour and a half for the mouse to calm down enough for you to safely look over himself. Thankfully both were ok but you've banned Olga from going into your room at all unless you were there and made it clear if anything were to happen to him, she'd be fired immediately. You were now tired of her continued antics.

"Just leave him alone!," you ordered firmly. "He's very well behaved and he's not staying here forever. It's just until he gets all better then I'm going to release him back outside."

"Hmph. Well that's the only good thing about him being here! I swear that thing is evil and I won't change my mind. "

"Oh come now. If he was really bad he would've done something to me by now. He's so good even the kitty I'm looking after likes him."

"You mean that obese beast that eats all our good fish and lazes about all day? She's almost as bad as him."

You scowled harder at her making her sigh. The poor kitty had fur torn from her making bald spots and looked like a pack of stray dogs got her. You brought her back home to recover about two weeks before you found the mouse. Both seemed to like each other very much when you accidentally left the door open one day and came back to find both cuddled up with each other. But surprise surprise Olga didn't like her either. 

"She's on a diet so she's not used to not getting so much food. Whoever owned her previously probably just over spoiled her so she's not used to portions." You didn't see it but the mouse gave you an eye roll of slight irritation before you smiled back at him. "He's a little extinguished gentlemen. Here. I'll show you."

Olga looked physically disgusted before you reached out and with a click slide the door wide open. Her face immediately paled as your hands reached in cupped and you cooed at him like you would a kitten to come over to you.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

You looked up at her shriek not seeing how he stood up on two legs before turning on a heel and flopping onto your palms smugly. "I'm taking him out. He's always so well behaved." Her expression worsened as you pulled your hands out with the mouse in it and smiled brightly holding him up. "See? Isn't he such a cute little guy?"

Instead of answering she squealed out as the mouse stuck it's tongue at her not that you saw and pressed herself Against the doorway in her panic fumbling with the doorknob. Wretching it open a sheet dropped from her arms as her fearful squealing continued down the hall and towards the downstairs. You blinked for a moment as the door slowly creaked closed again and more thunder rolled above you. Eventually sighing as the mouse flipped onto his stomach and regarded you with a smile as you shook your head. 

"I swear that woman just hates any animal she doesn't eat. You're certainly a gentleman no matter what anyone says. Let's get you back to bed now."

Gently your hands pushed him back into the pen and laid him stomach down on the comfy pillow. However his front paws caught onto your pointer finger and a small kiss like motion was felt on your skin. Blinking you pulled your hand away from him to look at it then at him.. before shaking your head and relocking the cage. Kissing your hand. Too many of Olga's fears was getting in your head. He probably just licked you as any animal would do. 

After all he was just a rodent and nothing more.

[jezebelblues]

saturn bound | h.s

summary: in which the world ends in your point of view, alongside your husband.

cw: death, angsty-ish i guess? unedited, grammatically correct in upper case if that tickles ur fancy.

word count: approx 1.4k. she’s a shortie

| this is in first person! (perspective of you, as reader) i was iffy about a 1st perspective so i edited in both 2nd and 3rd, but 1st person felt right. sorry if u hate, ladies.

masterlist

No one would remember me as YN, no one would remember my husband as Harry.

As the world crumbled into its final moments, you’d think that chaos would envelope everyone whole. That people would be running, screaming, fighting, as if they could somehow wrestle with the jaws of fate. Mothers clutching their children, fathers desperately barking orders to no one, families collapsing under the weight of hopelessness. Dogs howling into the wind after their selfish owners sped off, children sobbing as the air itself seemed to shudder with terror. A cacophony of fear.

You’d imagine fear cause these people knew their life was going to end.

And it was there undeniably, fear. Not the frantic kind, though. A different one—a quiet terror that settled deep in the bones, cold and ancient, like the Earth itself had finally whispered its last breath into our ears. It didn’t matter what was ending us—whether the dead were clawing from their graves, or if the sky had split apart and let loose the fires of heaven, or some disease had snatched us, unseen, from within. It didn’t matter. Not really. Because the truth was simple, inevitable: today, all life on Earth would be snuffed out, and we would become nothing—a floating spec of a forgotten afterthought.

There would be no future, no one left to carry the stories of humankind forward. No history books filled with our triumphs and tragedies. There would be no mourning of our extinction, the things we took for granted. Earth would be a blank—unknown, just one of countless casualties of time. If there was anyone out there in the universe with us, the children of this planet, would be memories swept away like dust, if even that. There would be no tears shed for us. The universe, so vast, would hardly notice our passing.

Some prayed. Desperation forced them down to their knees, begging for salvation, for some kind of afterlife, something more beautiful than their end. The thought of death so terrifying that they’d hope and pray they’ll end up in heaven—hell, even. Anything other than nothing, than eternal darkness. I understood, in a way, because nothing is scary—we’re alive, we’ve never experienced it—it’s impossible to wrap your mind around nothing.

Others drank. I joined them, a bottle of tequila in hand, the burn numbing me just enough to make peace with the fact that I would die today. And my Harry, the man that gave me his last name, would die beside me.

Harry Styles, the man the world adored, the man I called my husband—sat next to me, his head resting softly against my shoulder. We watched as Saturn, impossibly close now, loomed over us, over our home, like an executioner asking for our final words. Its rings shimmered, casting a glow that drowned out the stars. The air was thick with sobs, with whispered prayers. People clung to each other like lifelines, as if the touch of another human might hold them here, in this world that was no longer theirs. Some screamed, but most just stood and stared, watching death arrive with a strange, defeated calm—a cobra swaying in dance before striking its prey.

Harry’s hand found mine, gripping it tightly as if to stay grounded. He tried to pray, the fingers on his left hand trembling with the grasp of his cross pendant, but his voice cracked, breaking on the words. Tears ran down his face, but I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left in me to give to hope or fear. Once, faith could’ve been my anchor, but now it felt like a lie I might tell myself to feel safe. There was no safety here. There was no escaping this.

And so I watched, as those I had once called neighbors, friends, fought against the inevitable. They ran, though there was nowhere to go. They screamed, though no one could hear. They prayed, though no god would answer. It was almost pathetic, the way they clung to the last shreds of life. But maybe it gave them some comfort. Maybe that was all anyone wanted in the end—their last conjured thought to be at least I tried.

"You know-” he trailed off softly, his voice breaking the stillness between us, "I always thought we'd have more time. That mayb-” He sighed. “Maybe we'd get old together."

His words struck me like a blow. "I thought so too." I whispered, feeling the ache in my chest grow heavier. It felt so cruel, to have found this love, this overwhelming, all-consuming love, only to have it ripped away after two years of marriage. "We deserved more, H.”

My husband’s thumbs ran circles upon the back of my hand, his tears glistening in the glow of Saturn. His lip quivered, voice shaky. “We can be old now.” He sent me a sad smile, pressing a kiss into my temple. “Happy fiftieth anniversary.” He murmured, playing with the ring on my finger.

I couldn’t stifle the whimper that fell from my grin, nodding to his words. I stared at his wedding band that shimmered in the light before passing the bottle of tequila between us—a toast. To fifty years of marriage. That would’ve something to drink to.

One swig turned into three, three turned into five. It had helped stopped the tears eventually.

Harry turned to me, his face inches from mine, and I could see the weight of the world in his eyes—a humorous irony, really, now that we really are practically weightless as we pull into Saturn’s gravity. He raised a hand, cupping my face so gently, as though I were something precious that he didn't want to break.

"If I could choose how it all ends," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, "I'd choose this—here with you. If this is the last thing I feel, the last thing I see, then maybe it's not so bad."

Alcohol couldn't stop the tears then. They spilled over, warm and unrelenting, because what else could I do? I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling as the world began to fall apart around us. The rumble of the Earth cracking, the low roar of Saturn's tug—it all seemed so distant, so unimportant.

"I don't want to lose you." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

"You won't, YN." His voice was unwavering, as if he had the book of answers hidden in his pocket. His thumb brushed over my cheek while his lips parted once more. "You'll always have me. Always."

And then he kissed me. It wasn't desperate or rushed. It wasn't the kiss of two people saying goodbye, just an I’ll see you later. It was slow, soft, full of everything we had been to each other. His lips were warm, delicate, and for a moment I could pretend the world wasn't ending. I could pretend that all we had was time.

Saturn’s light bathed the earth in colors that had never seemed so tragically gorgeous—deep purples, blues, and grays, all spinning around the our dying planet. The rings twisted and churned in the sky, pulling our world apart piece by piece, and the wind howled as if it cried for us. The stars dimmed, one by one, turning away from the spectacle of our destruction, unable to bear witness. Maybe they chose to die along side us, not letting Earth go through it alone.—like they were the only ones who’d mourn our death. I silently thanked them, though inanimate, I swear I could feel their empathy.

Harry gripped my hand tighter, his skin warm against the cold air. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. Our foreheads met again, a united front. His green eyes met mine, full of sorrow, of love, of things unsaid. I wanted every one of the five senses to envelope only him. Our last moment to be together, not watching the world collapse, but here, in this space we had carved out between us.

I kissed him. One last time. The taste of salt from his tears mingled with the liquor on my lips. “I love you.” We whispered together, our voices lost in the roar of the sky falling apart.

And then it was gone.

The cold sank into my bones, but it no longer mattered. My heart slowed, and the world around me faded. No more breath in my lungs, no more blood in my veins. Just the void. And as we drifted into that nothingness, I held onto one final hope—that there is some sort of afterlife, so I could find my Harry again.

Yet, the Earth was gone. It dissolved into the void like dust. The stars, too, blinked out one by one, and the universe spun on, indifferent. We were forgotten, nothing left to even decompose in our boundless grave. Perhaps the dead stars that’ll become something more will be our headstones—an indication we were once here.

But for now, it was as if we never existed in the first place.

btw if you feel like you’ve seen this before, i originally wrote this on wattpad in 2017. it was horrible :D but i liked the concept, so this is it readjusted. hope u enjoyed even just a lil <3

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (VIII)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your conversation with Lady Galadriel makes you realise a very difficult truth about the nature of your relationship with Sauron. You wish to keep your dark secret from your husband but you are trying to make him realise that perhaps attacking Eregion might not be the best idea after all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I could not wait to write this chapter from the very beginning the idea for this fic showed up in my head. Even though the Reader is not really talking much during the scene with Galadriel (it was never my intention for her to talk there much), the conversation she is witnessing makes her realise all the things that make her deeply uncomfortable and cause her whole life's purpose to shatter. 👌🏽👌🏻 This fic is slowly coming to an end, by the way.

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 6,900

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (VIII)

Everyone knew who Lady Galadriel was. Not just the Elves but nearly every being in Middle-earth, including the Orcs because she had slayed so many of them. In fact, you were sure that some Uruk mothers were telling their children scary stories about Lady Galadriel. Known for carrying so much light and beauty and yet so fiercely determined to purge Middle-earth from all filth. In a way, she reminded you of Sauron in this.

Lady Galadriel was everything you had wished to be back in the day – known, respected, beautiful beyond comparison. Back in the day when you had remained incorrupt by your lover, before you had begun to dream about becoming his terrific Queen and rule alongside him. Now you could not care less about her qualities because you had your own – very often contradicting hers.

You walked together with your husband amongst the Orcs as the night was slowly turning into a foggy day and you could already see Eregion from afar.

The sight alone was gut-twisting to you because you knew that your beloved was there – so close to you. Soon, you would be in his arms as his Queen. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more lies. 

But when you imagined that, your heart ached for the man walking by your side. What would happen to him then? You were certain Sauron wanted Adar dead but you… You did not.

You could never admit it to your lover, though. He was jealous and possessive. It would only make him want Adar’s death even more. And he had other reasons than you – his own revenge. The revenge you craved as well after all. Adar had been the one to take Sauron away from you by killing and humiliating him. He had his own reasons to do it, too, though. The situation between them was very delicate and difficult on many levels.

Your plan had been so easy at first – to play pretend and hand Adar out to Sauron on a silver plate. But your heart – not as rotten as you’d like it to be – kept complicating things.

“How well do you know Galadriel?” Your husband asked you and you turned your head around to raise an eyebrow.

“Not much personally. I have seen her a few times, talked to her twice maybe, except for the official affairs since I was a daughter of the Lord Guardian of The Southlands. But she mostly resided in the North, therefore there were never many occasions,” you explained. “Why?”

“I was only wondering if you might be useful when we negotiate with her,” Adar told you and you tilted your head.

“I have a feeling you hide something from me. Why did you even take her as a prisoner?” You furrowed your brows. “You promised me… You promised me that we would be equals and that you would tell me everything,” you reminded him.

Adar stopped walking for a moment and you stopped, too, staring at him and trying to show off your best hurt expression. The Orcs kept passing you by and glancing from the corners of their eyes when your husband extended his hand to hold yours.

“I have no secrets from you,” he assured you. “But I am so used to loneliness, I forget to share my thoughts often,” he admitted. “Galadriel might be our ally. She is after Sauron, is she not?” He asked and you nodded, squeezing his hand back.

“She devoted her life to fight him and other forces of darkness,” you replied. “But we are the very forces of darkness. What makes you think she is going to treat with us?”

“If she does not, we might use her. It is her who is our prisoner, not the other way around,” Adar smirked and pointed his chin in the direction where he wanted you to follow him – where some of the Orcs were already toying with Lady Galadriel, recently released out of her cage and the others were busy building a war camp for your army to reside.

When you approached them, you spotted Glûg holding his dagger close to Galadriel’s face. It suddenly made you realise how you truly became one of them – how it was nearly impossible to imagine any of the Orcs to ever turn against you the same way. From being scared of falling asleep around them, you walked confidently amongst them and you even dared to scold them sometimes as they would look down shyly.

In their eyes, you surely were no Elf anymore – not in the same way Galadriel was.

Adar stopped Glûg by putting his hand on the Orc’s arm and shaking his head as Glûg walked away, a little frustrated. Lady Galadriel’s beautiful, bright eyes found yours and she seemed to be pretty fascinated. Therefore, you straightened your back.

And after a very short while of holding each other’s gazes, she suddenly took out a dagger that had been hidden discreetly in her sleeve and pointed it at your husband. The Orcs around you groaned at that as they became alarmed and so did you – you let out a small yelp as your heart skipped a beat and your hand already grabbed the hilt of your sword. Even though you knew that you would never be an opponent worthy enough of her when it came to sword duels.

Galadriel turned around, moving Adar alongside her. And now her blade was pressed to his neck as Glûg jumped in front of you to cover you with his own body just in case.

Yes, you were definitely one of them now. Your light was all gone, your blood turned black and your skin turned cold. Valinor was awaiting you no more.

“I brought you here not as a prisoner…” Adar turned his face around to look at Galadriel as he spoke in the Sindarin language, “but as a potential ally for we share a common enemy.”

After a while of hesitation, Galadriel’s surprised eyes found yours behind Glûg. You nodded at her as if you were more trustworthy than your husband – in fact, you were less. But she did not know that and she still must have considered you to be sort of a friend. A friend enough to let go of Adar as the Orcs calmed down and you ran up to your husband to put your hands on his chest and cling to him, grateful that he was still in one piece. You knew how fierce Galadriel could be.

Adar caressed your back soothingly and you could feel her eyes on you, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship. 

“Lady Galadriel, please, feel yourself invited…” Adar pointed at the biggest tent that had already been there, waiting for you two to sleep in. “Let us talk,” he added and you watched her hesitantly go inside.

Your husband followed and you began walking right after when you felt a strong pull towards Eregion. You turned around rapidly and kept staring at the forest, knowing very well that behind them the city stood and inside the city there he was – Sauron. Looking out and sensing your presence, looking out for you. You smiled to yourself and focused all your will and might to let him know that you were close and you would be reunited soon.

And with a heart so full of love for him and a brand new inspiration to carry on with your plan, you finally joined Adar and Galadriel inside the tent.

They were sitting on the opposite sides of the table as some female Orcs were bringing you food. It was a small feast in a way and you knew it was Adar’s way to make Galadriel feel like your guest indeed. You took a seat next to him and put a small portion on your plate before beginning to eat it. Adar’s portion was much bigger than yours but Galadriel’s was none. Her plate remained empty and she just kept sitting there and staring at the two of you, which was awkward in a way but you tried to ignore her.

You wondered if Sauron knew about her. Was she also a part of his plan or was she an obstacle he had no idea of? You could not decide for yourself, therefore, for now, you decided to just sit there and observe how the situation would evolve.

Eventually, she just could not hold herself back no more as she addressed you.

“Lady (Y/N) of The Southlands… Your mother arrived in Lindon some time ago,” Galadriel spoke and you looked up at her, immediately. The mention of your mother made your heart clench.

“Then you must be surprised to see me,” you smirked, “for I have instructed her to speak of me as dead.”

“On the contrary,” Galadriel raised an eyebrow at you in a challenging manner and you furrowed your brows. “She has told the High King everything.”

You clenched your jaw and gritted your teeth, nervously looking at Adar but he only nodded at you to calm you down and soothe you.

“Then you know what treachery my father was capable of,” you answered, avoiding her gaze. You did not want her to see the betrayal you felt after your mother’s broken promise.

“And what treachery you were capable of as well,” Galadriel nodded.

“My mother blames me for the fall of Ostirith, but I had no idea of it. It was no scheme of mine,” you finally met her gaze again. This time you didn’t care if she could see the pain on your face or not because it was too big to hide it anyway. “Why can she not trust her own daughter?”

“She loves you but she does not believe you,” Galadriel informed you. “She revealed to the High King that there had been something rotten about you for a while now. Ever since you had returned from Eregion–”

“Stop it!” You banged your fist on the table, angrily.

“Be at ease, she is provoking you,” Adar’s voice was calm as he put his hand on your arm to give you comfort. Then he shot Galadriel a glance.

You nodded at your husband and relaxed, which made her roll her eyes a bit.

“You seem to quite fit in. Even the sword you carry is Morgoth’s,” Galadriel pointed out.

“I had to fit in to survive. Something a grand lady like you has never known and will never know,” you remarked.

Adar seemed to be a little frustrated with your girly chit-chat as he leaned back on his chair and sighed. He raised a hand to shush you both since he wanted to finally speak of the matters that were the most important to him.

“We must not argue now,” he reminded you two and then, after a short while of silence, he looked at Galadriel. “During my brief time in your capture, you seemed intent on finding Sauron. One might even say, consumed by it,” he told her and Galadriel looked down.

You leaned back on your chair as well, with your hands clasped on your abdomen as you observed her reactions. 

“The way one always is, once he has wormed his way inside your mind,” Adar kept talking and his eyes were on Galadriel. Her own eyes were rather glancing down, avoiding his gaze. Therefore, your own eyes were allowed to wander and for that you were grateful. His words about your beloved were making you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“You know nothing of my mind,” Galadriel replied to that and a smug expression lit up her face. “You yielded to him. I resisted.”

Resisted?

You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was she talking about? Since when was she ever so close to Sauron to be offered anything from him? Back in the First Age, the only time Galadriel had been mentioned by your lover was when he had been complaining about the Elven armies to you. She had never been any part of his plans – except for the one to get rid of her for once and for all. 

And yes, you were aware that Galadriel had been the one to spend time with Halbrand in Númenor but you had never seen her as anything else but his tool. Was it possible that there had been more depth to their relationship? That he had shown her his soul and offered her a piece of it?

Did his soul not belong to you wholly?

“For a while, perhaps,” Adar remarked in a whisper. “But sooner or later, he sees you. Not just who you are, but who you wish to be,” he added and you clenched your jaw as you looked down to stare at your fingers.

You began to fidget with them nervously while you remembered your first meeting with Sauron. How luring and tempting he had been, how he had seemed to know perfectly well what had been your desires. And he had promised you to fulfil them all.

“His eyes bore a hole and the rest of him slithers in,” Adar kept talking and at that moment, his voice was starting to make you sick. It was becoming too much to hear all these things.

He had known Sauron – he had known him better than you in lots of ways. You were no young Elf but your husband was much older and he had known Sauron for a time much longer than you. They had fought together for Morgoth and then for themselves. The only thing you had been doing was warming your lover’s bed and listening to his sweet nothings.

And that… That was enough to make you become obsessed with him. To make you yearn for him each day and each night of your separation. To make you abandon all else – because only Sauron mattered.

“For a while, he even makes you believe that his power has become yours,” Adar kept his monologue and you took a deep breath. As you raised your chin, you spotted the look on Galadriel’s face…

The look that made you realise what the nature of her relationship with Sauron had to be…

You felt dizzy but you managed to keep an emotionless face on even though your mind began to drift away and get foggy.

“Irresistible power… that makes every desire’s fulfilment seem inevitable,” Adar smirked as he had noticed Galadriel’s facial expression as well. “An ocean of colour against which everything else feels forever thereafter–”

“A dull grey,” Galadriel admitted and you regretted eating your meal in an instant when the anxiety squeezed your stomach and you felt even more sick now.

It was her confession and the both of you knew it. You watched Adar’s face change its expression in an instant as he realised he had found an ally in her indeed – that they had both been deceived by Sauron in the past.

And you were sitting there, too. Like a fool.

“What did he promise you?” Adar asked Galadriel.

“An army,” she lied. Her eyes glistened and she shook her head and you knew – you just knew – that she lied.

You knew because you knew what it meant to love and trust Sauron. You knew what he was doing to a woman he had such a strong effect on and what it was like to share a bond with him. And all these things, you could see in her now, too.

It felt like a punch right into your gut, piercing you through and through, leaving you behind to bleed out slowly, drop by drop.

Was it possible that your lover… Your one and only, your whole purpose in life, your dream, your master, your King… That he was merely using you?

That you were nothing but one of many other women he had been finding a use for? And if Lady Galadriel was one of them – the Lady of Light – what chances did you stand? What was giving you any guarantee that it was her he had been deceiving and you that he had been genuine with?

The chances were zero.

Your whole world crumbled down in an instant and you could not let it show. You closed your eyes for a longer while and tried to focus on your fastened heartbeat instead.

“Do you want to know what he offered me?” Adar inquired.

“I care not,” Galadriel admitted.

“Children,” your husband answered anyway.

And how pure his wishes and desires seemed to be compared to you. You had been greedy, you had made Sauron promise you to make you his Queen. You had wanted to be worshipped and admired.

But now you were not so sure. Having a taste of it by being the Dark Lady of Mordor was truly making you realise what a burden and responsibility it was to lead others. Sometimes being Adar’s wife and watching over the Orcs seemed to be more than enough.

And then Sauron would slip back into your mind again… And you would be reminded once more what a great power you could have if you only dared to unleash it.

“Then it would seem he gave us both what we desired,” Galadriel pointed out.

“You see, it is not his lies which must be extinguished. It is him and I can help you do it,” Adar admitted and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

Despite everything you had just found out, you still felt awful whenever the possibility of Sauron’s death was being mentioned.

“I can help you destroy Sauron,” your husband leaned in over the table to reach Galadriel more effectively.

“What help could you possibly provide, Orc?” She snapped at him and it finally gave you an opportunity to glance at her with all your anger and jealousy that you had been feeling for a while now.

You had never cared much about that slur until now – because in her lips it sounded just so awful.

“Uruk,” you finally spoke, interrupting them as they both looked at you surprised. Whether they were shocked by the fact that you cared or they simply forgot you were there with them – you did not care.

You did not care about anything anymore. Your whole life, your whole love and devotion, your whole sacrifice – they might have been a lie. How could you care about anything or anyone?

Adar stood up and briefly caressed your cheek with his finger as he walked away from the table to approach the wooden chest with Morgoth’s crown. He took it out to show it off to Galadriel and as he walked towards her with the item, she seemed to be startled by its darkness.

“Morgoth’s crown… I was told–”

“There are many stories of what happened, after the Silmarils were pried from its settings. But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit himself,” Adar confessed and you kept listening as your lips nervously twitched and formed a sad smile as silent and dry tears streamed down your cheeks – they were invisible but you could feel that you were on the verge of crying. “I was there when he kneeled to be crowned and I was the one who used its power to slay him,” Adar continued his story.

Each time you were told it or you thought of it, you relieved it in your mind. You had not been there but you had enough imagination to see it with your eyes. And each time your heart weeped for your betrayed lover but it seemed to weep no more… Because you were a betrayed lover now.

Adar put the crown on the table in front of Galadriel and you looked down, hoping they would forget about your existence once more.

“If what you say is true, why did he return?” Galadriel asked.

Exactly. Why?

Until now, you had foolishly been thinking that perhaps you were one of the reasons. That the very thought of you had been keeping him strong. He had even mentioned such things when you had reunited with him in Mordor for a brief moment.

But now you could see it even more clearly – how cold and distant he had been to you while you had been the one to devour him after centuries of separation. Oh, what a fool you had been and how you had humiliated yourself… 

“Because I had not yet found you,” Adar addressed Galadriel and you looked up angrily. You did not like his choice of words.

“What part am I to play in this?” Galadriel asked.

“It is said that the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading,” Adar told her. “Is it true?”

You wondered that, too. You had been with him when you both had received such “news” or rather “gossip” as you had thought of it back then. Lady Galadriel refused to answer, though, as she looked away.

“If it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever,” Adar informed her.

And once again you were torn – because even if it was true that Sauron had been using you and only that… If he was to be defeated, your whole life would lose its purpose. You had abandoned the Valar for him – your new and only god. If he truly stopped existing, a part of you would die with him surely. The part you had given away to him freely – nearly all of you.

“The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp,” Adar continued, “but I know he hides in Eregion and I suspect you know for certain…” He hesitated with a smirk. “Halbrand is Sauron, isn't he?” He asked and you felt your blood turn even colder when you realised that your husband had seen through your lover’s disguise.

You had a feeling in your gut that he did but he had never told you anything about it, so you were hopeful it was only you being paranoid. But now, you were anxious again that he had seen through you as well.

Galadriel did not answer but what you saw on her face only proved to you once more that she loved the human king – one of your lover’s forms.

“The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride,” Adar crouched down to look more intensely at Galadriel’s face. “I suggest you find the will to do so… If you can,” he added with contempt before standing up to take away Morgoth’s crown.

He returned to her to put her wrist in a shackle because she could not be trusted after her stunt with the dagger before but also – despite his sweet assurances – she was your prisoner.

“We will speak again,” your husband told her and offered you his hand to help you stand and leave with him but you shook your head. Adar nodded and left you two alone.

Long while of silence occurred between you two, in which you were debating with yourself on how much to reveal.

“An army,” you mocked her and she furrowed her brows at you. “He promised you to be his Queen,” you added and finally stood up to leave the table even though your legs were weak and trembling, which you managed to hide. You approached Galadriel slowly and leaned in to be face-to-face with the most beautiful of the Elven women.

“You reek of an Orc,” she pointed out and you laughed at that. It was nearly adorable how she was trying to change the subject. 

And, you had to admit, the only good thing coming out of this whole situation was to have her at your mercy. To toy with her was your greatest pleasure – to feel in control and to feel even more powerful. There was a time you had wanted to impress her but now you were disgusting her and it brought you nothing but satisfaction.

“How can you know anyway?” She asked as she met your gaze eventually, after a while of feeling your intense eyes on her and realising you were not willing to change the subject at all.

“I am gifted with an extraordinary intuition,” you teased. “Oh, how pathetic you must feel now… To know that Sauron himself offered you to be his Queen and you considered it for a while. What does that make you? Do you think you are worthy of all your titles now, Lady of Light?” You asked with contempt.

“And were you not offered the same?” Galadriel asked and your heart skipped a beat as your smirk froze. Did she…? Did she know…?

“What are you talking about?!” You barked at her, angrily, as you straightened your back.

“Adar,” she explained and you breathed out of relief. “Did he not promise you the crown? You accepted it. How does that make you feel? What does it make you?”

“He does not wish to be a King and I do not aspire to be a Queen by his side,” you informed Galadriel, which was no lie. “What we wish for is a home. You can pretend to be so righteous and strong amongst your kin, Lady Galadriel, but you and I know how weak you truly are,” you smirked and left the tent.

It was suffocating you at this point. The air inside of it, her intense gaze, the words spoken. You wanted to breathe in the forest and gather your thoughts because there were so many as your heart was broken into a million pieces.

You stared once more at the trees, in the direction of Eregion, and you wanted to reach out to Sauron but he was not answering, probably too busy with his schemes. The fact was – he never answered your calls. If there were any glimpses of the connection between your minds, it was always him initiating it.

“What are you thinking of?” You heard Adar’s voice behind you as he put his arm on your shoulder. “You seem to be upset.”

“I… I think we should go back home,” you turned around to face him now instead of the trees, Eregion and Sauron inside of it. And at the sight of Adar’s scarred face, your heart suddenly filled in with warmth.

“What do you mean?” Your husband furrowed his brows. “Were you not the one convincing me eagerly about marching to Eregion with our army?”

“Yes, but I am not so sure anymore. Please, trust my gut. Something has changed, I am not sure… I have a bad feeling,” you grabbed him by his sleeves as you clenched your fists around the fabric, desperately. Your eyes were looking up to meet his blue ones in a pleading manner and he was staring at you with so much devotion that you were sure he still had no idea of who you truly were despite finding out the truth about Halbrand.

Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it should stay this way. You wanted to go back to Mordor – to that godforsaken place you had turned into your new home recently. You wanted to live in peace and safety there alongside Adar. And you were not even sure if Sauron would ever come looking for you. He would eventually show up to get his revenge and his army but perhaps you would be able to prepare for it in time. But you doubted he would come there for you.

“I know the vision of this battle is unsettling to you,” Adar cupped your face gently, “and that you wish to be back home – so do I. We shall,” he nodded. “We shall go home but not until Sauron is defeated,” he reminded you and you smiled sadly.

It was a trap and you could not make him see it… You would have to reveal your part in it for him to realise it and that was something you were not ready for. So, instead, you went for something else.

“Can you hold me?” You asked and Adar was a little surprised but he did not say anything. “I want to feel safe.”

“Of course,” he nodded and wrapped his arms around you. You clinged to him like a little girl, wishing that you could freeze time.

To beg and plead for Adar to turn his army back after all the weeks of convincing him that it had been a good idea to march towards Eregion would be highly suspicious now. But you knew that the game was over anyway – it was too late to make him realise it was a trap without telling him the truth. And perhaps even after finding out about your purpose by his side, he would still decide to attack the Elven city.

You spent a whole day wandering around the forest nearby the camp. You found a tree that had fallen over and you sat under it, feeling the grass under your hands. In a way, you wished you had not found out the truth about being Sauron’s puppet – most likely.

Most likely, because you wanted to believe – you truly did – that his devotion and love towards you were true. However, if you started to believe that, wouldn’t that make you an even bigger fool?

You had ruined your maidenhood, your family and your home for him. And now you would ruin your new family, too. You would hand him out Adar to be killed and his children to become Sauron’s slaves. And what would you get in return? A dagger in your back since you would not be useful anymore? Or a crown? Would he truly give you any real power?

You were not even so sure if you wanted it, after all.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. Real, genuine tears. Because, for the first time in a long while, you did not know what to do – until now you had been waiting for Sauron, living for Sauron, worshipping Sauron. And now you were stripped of your faith and of your god but you still remained his servant. How could you stop it? You couldn’t even pray to the Valar anymore to help you – they would not listen to a fallen Elf.

When you heard a noise behind you, you suspected it would be Adar. But no, it was Glûg. You quickly sniffled your tears back and wiped your cheeks before cracking a smile at him.

“My Lady?” He asked, unsurely as he tilted his head at the sight of your tears.

“Yes, Uruk?” You asked him, trying to hide the deep amount of your sadness.

“Lord Father is looking for you,” he told you and you nodded before getting up and approaching him to go back to the camp.

“It is a pretty area of the forest, is it not?” You tried to ask him while pretending to be cheerful.

“I guess,” he shrugged his arms. He kept staring at you intensely with his small eyes. “Why are you sad, Dark Lady?”

“I already mourn all the Uruks that will die in the upcoming battle,” you smiled sadly at him.

How easy it was to spit out such soothing lies. It was not like you didn’t care what would happen to them – you had grown used to being around them. But it was also not like you truly mourned for them. However, such a lie rolled off of your tongue without much thought put into it.

Sauron had taught you well. But this time you felt bad about it instead of being proud about it.

Glûg nodded his head at you, sadly. That was when you entered the camp again and you spotted Adar amongst his children, explaining something to them. You ran up to him and wrapped your hands around his arm. He smiled adoringly at you.

“Come with me, let me show you,” you tried to convince him and you could see him hesitate. There was not much time to waste but he eventually agreed with a sigh and allowed you to walk him out of the camp.

You were starting to become his weakness.

You took him back to where Glûg had found you. It was truly a very beautiful place in the forest; so green and calm. The light was creeping in through the trees and you smiled at your husband as you caressed his cheeks and brushed his hair strands behind his pointy ears.

“Something about you in this light makes me believe I could truly be good once again,” Adar whispered to you in the Quenya language and you felt your heart clench inside your chest.

How could you betray him…?

“Damn the good. And damn the evil. Let us just be ourselves,” you answered. “Let us go home…”

“You know that we cannot. Not until he is no more,” your husband carefully and gently held your wrists to lower them away from his face. He placed soft kisses upon the palms of your hands and caressed them.

“Why do we have to come for him? Why can he not come for us? We could fight him in our own land, on our own terms,” you tried to convince him. “You know that this feeling in my gut… It is never wrong.”

“Yet it often changes its mind,” Adar smirked at that and you sighed.

You even opened your mouth, gathering courage to confess the truth in this beautiful place but the moment you were about to admit your sins, the very same courage abandoned you.

“It is beautiful here and I know you yearn for peace but we must go back,” Adar let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek with his rough fingertips. “You are the most beautiful lady in all Middle-earth,” he added in the Quenya language and you furrowed your brows at that when you began walking back to the camp.

“Where did it come from?” You asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I could sense your jealousy when I spoke with Lady Galadriel,” he answered. “As if her beauty could ever match yours.”

“You must be blind then, my poor Adar. She is known for being the fairest of the Elven ladies,” you shook your head but a playful sparkle lit up your eyes.

“That is an easy kind of beauty and I do not seek easiness in anything,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

And the thing with Adar was that you just knew that his words were genuine and they were not prepared beforehand with some hidden agenda.

It was dark already when Adar and you were informed that Lady Galadriel was ready to speak again. You went back inside your tent where she had been kept for a whole day and you stood in front of her, still sitting on the chair.

“Yes. Halbrand is Sauron,” Galadriel started as the silence was growing heavy between you all. Your jaw twitched slightly as it clenched at her words. “He’s in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow him to dominate my kind. And yours.”

“Every kind in Middle-earth,” Adar added.

“But he will not attempt escape until his task is complete,” Galadriel laid her eyes upon you now. “And that gives us a momentary advantage.”

“Us?” You raised an eyebrow at her

Galadriel moved her hand in shackles and looked back at your husband, angrily.

“Unlock me,” she ordered.

Adar looked at you and you nodded at him even though you were not sure if it was a good idea to do so. He approached her to unchain her and she kept glancing at him with a mix of anger but also curiosity.

“As we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves,” she revealed. “And Nenya – my Ring.”

“I see,” Adar turned around to join your side again.

“Once he arrives, he will seal off the city,” Galadriel stood up as she spoke, “loose Celebrimbor from Sauron’s grasp, and then together, Uruks, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return,” she finished.

Uruks. You had been told by her or by your lover that you reeked of them. But you had never been called one.

“And what then?”Adar asked.

“Any Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed,” Galadriel stated.

“I meant, what then for the Uruk?” Adar furrowed his brow. “Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?” He asked and Galadriel did not answer because what could she possibly tell? She was known to be an Orc-slayer. “The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron’s designs.”

“You speak lies,” Galadriel shook her head as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Hoping I will reveal something.”

“You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more,” Adar answered calmly and walked out of the tent.

He did not even look at you because he was so focused on the battle that was to come – he had his confirmation about Halrand being Sauron. About him being in Eregion. Now he was an unstoppable force.

“Adar…” You called out for him but he was out of the tent already.

You looked at Galadriel with a sigh before gathering your skirts and rushing out after him. So did she.

“It is time!” Your husband announced in Black Speech to his children. You were pretty fluent in this language by now. 

“All of Eregion may well be under Sauron’s control by now,” Galadriel was trying to make him realise the truth. “It will take far more than a legion of your children to lay siege to it!”

But Adar was leading her to the edge of the hill from where the real power of your army could be seen. The truth be told – most of the Orcs had left Mordor to march towards Eregion. You had been the one insisting on that back in the day.

“Did you really think I would attempt to challenge the might of Sauron with a single legion?” Adar asked and stopped as he looked down at your soldiers below the hill. You stood behind him and you had to admit – the view was admirable and was filling you with pride. However, you knew very well that those poor and filthy creatures were being led into a trap.

“Now that you have confirmed beyond any doubt who he is and told me who carries your Ring, Eregion will fall,” Adar turned his head around to look at Galadriel with a smirk. “And Sauron with it.”

“No…” Galadriel looked down, visibly overthinking something. “This must be what he wants. Sauron has no army of his own, so he’s lured yours here instead,” she laid her eyes upon Adar as your heart skipped a beat.

She even found your eyes, too, as if she was trying to make you see the truth your husband could not. She was able to see the treachery but she still could not see the deceiver. You suddenly realised Halbrand’s task had not been very difficult.

“He wants you to attack Eregion,” she added but you remained still. It would be suspicious to agree with her words eagerly but you hoped she would make Adar change his mind. After all, he wanted to protect his children the most.

“Bind her. She will be useful later,” he ordered instead and three Orcs hurried to your side to grab Galadriel.

Of course. The love he had for his children would always be overshadowed by his hatred towards Sauron. His personal revenge, his own retribution.

“I beg you…” Galadriel addressed Adar but he ignored her so she laid her eyes upon you. “Do not let your husband be a fool! Do not do this! Do not take his lure!”

Her desperate words and her behaviour as she was being dragged away by the Orcs were sending a shiver down your spine because you could see yourself in her – you could see yourself doing the same to protect him but you could not.

You were terrified of Adar’s reaction after finding out the truth about you. He would never trust you again.

And, after all, Sauron’s grasp around your heart was still tight and painful. Perhaps you were only a tool in his scheme but you still did not wish for his downfall or his death.

“I will make him choke on it,” Adar remarked.

“No!” Galadriel shouted. “You mustn’t. This is all his design! This is what Sauron wants! Whatever forces were encouraging you to come here were his!”

You looked away, nervously.

Thankfully, your husband was too occupied with his thirst for the battle to truly think about Galadriel’s words. She had no idea, of course, that it had been you encouraging Adar to march with his armies towards Eregion. But she had said one sentence too much.

Glûg handed Adar a war horn but he did it hesitantly, causing his Lord Father’s impatience. The Orc was visibly worried and startled by Galadriel’s screams and warnings.

Adar was not, however. He blew the horn and a malicious feeling filled your heart – there was no way back.

Your betrayal was definite as you had just brought Sauron his army.

MASTERLIST