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themoonlitquill · 3 days ago

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Whispers Woven in Shadow. (1/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓��𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; I’m terrible at summaries, so please don’t hate me for that! This is an OC that I’ve been playing around with for literal ages and I finally made the choice to really dive in and develop her, and then the ideas just started flowing in and I couldn’t stop writing! I’m already working on a second chapter for this, but let me know your thoughts if you’d like to see this continued! I don’t post my writing too often, so be kind if you don’t mind!! Oh, && special thanks to @coffeebooksrain18 for the moodboard! 🩵 Enjoy!

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻, 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ; 3802.

Everything is different now, Ariadne Archeron blinks as she looks out the window to the clear skies of robin’s egg blue with rays of sunlight streaming through to cast a golden hue that emitted warmth and yet, she had never felt so cold, so empty. Her mind was spinning around in circles, jumping from thought to thought, never settling and making her skin itch with such an intensity that she had to refrain herself from digging her nails in and ripping flesh from bone.

It was all wrong. Every single bit of it. And she couldn’t understand what was going on and why she was feeling this way.

The simple answer was because she had been thrown into a massive pot that stripped her humanity from her without consent and replaced it with immortality, which was something she had only wondered about in the stories that Elain used to show her as a little girl; she never imagined that it would come true and become her life.

Feyre had accepted being Made into High Fae graciously, almost eagerly, while Nesta seethed and resented, focusing her pent up emotions into care and concern for Elain. That left Ariadne to deal with it alone and if she were to be honest with herself, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

She was broken, lost, and confused, nearly a shell of her former self. How was she to handle this? What was she to do? There wasn’t a set of rules for something like this and there was no one to turn to for advice, not that she could anyway with her inability to speak.

It seemed that magic couldn’t heal everything.

Ariadne had been born deaf and could only communicate through gestures and looks, which made everything that much harder for her compared to her sisters. She couldn’t get her mouth to form the words that ran rampant in her head, not that she didn’t try, and eventually, she gave up, coming to the realization that what she so desperately wanted to say would never be heard by anyone other than herself.

She had never felt sorry about her ailment before, knowing that Nesta understood when she was irritated by the way her eyes narrowed with a hand placed defiantly on her hip and that Elain knew when she needed a moment away from their father when a frustrated huff emitted from her nose, followed with the incessant picking at the skin around her fingernails.

And Feyre, well, she was able to decipher what Ariadne wanted before she even did.

But it was different now. It wasn’t the same and the changes she was going through had to be dealt with, with no help from anyone. It wasn’t fair.

She wanted to scream and yell and cry and throw things, but she couldn’t, and if she could, she wouldn’t want to. That wasn’t who she was and it definitely wasn’t how she acted when life didn’t go the way she wished for it to. Instead, Ariadne kept it hidden away from prying eyes and suffered in silence, because that’s what this all was.

Suffering.

Agony.

Without any end in sight.

Ariadne works to swallow the dry lump that had formed in her throat and she withholds a wince, knowing that she needed something to drink and she was already dreading the fact that she’d have to leave the bit of safety in the room, that was now hers, to go get it.

Unless she wanted to stick her mouth under the faucet again and she most definitely did not.

Downstairs it is, she gnaws on the inside of her lower lip until she tastes the unmistakable tang of copper on her tongue, the nerves already setting in. You can do this, Ari. Just stand up and walk. It isn’t that hard, her fingers clenched into a fist, nails biting into her palm. Get UP! Get up, get up, get up!

Why couldn’t she move? What was wrong with her?

Ariadne sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment, then releases, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep herself composed. The tears were right there and there was no way she would allow them to fall; she had to be strong like Feyre would be, not letting anything knock her down, and if it did, she’d get back up to try again. She could do that, couldn’t she?

It’ll be quick. Start with putting your feet on the floor. That’s easy enough to do, she reopens her eyes and stares straight ahead for several minutes, working on keeping each breath steady. On the count of three… One, her skin prickles, but she manages to sit up straight, legs unfolding. Two, sweat forms on her brow as she moves her feet to hover over the carpet. Three!

The distance closes and she freezes when she feels the plush material against her skin, finding that it was kind of… nice. See, not so bad, right? One thing at a time. You can do that no problem.

A small bit of confidence surges through her and she quickly rests her arms on either side of the chair, bracing herself before pushing herself up; her knees wobble and her brow furrows, but Ariadne - more determined than she realized - finds her balance and straightens, taking a deep breath in order to calm down a little.

Hey! Look at that. You did it, there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth, which she dutifully ignores. Now, another deep breath. Start walking, was it too soon to do this? It had only been a week since- Don’t go there, Ari. You’re doing so well. You aren’t there anymore. You’re fine, she lifts her chin and turns towards the door. Go on, she takes a step.

Ariadne keeps going, one foot at a time, and becomes more steady, making her way across the - her - room to the door and stopping to stand in front of it. Her hand wrapped around the handle, halfway turned, but she froze again. Completely immobile. Why was her heart beating so quickly? This wasn’t normal. It made no sense to feel like this and she couldn’t find a way to understand it, which was incredibly frustrating.

It’s good that you want to see something else besides these same four walls. Nothing wrong with that. No one is even going to be out there, she turns it the rest of the way. Nesta is with Elain, and Feyre, her heart clenches painfully. Feyre isn’t here right now, so you’re going to have to do this yourself, she pulls and it opens. There you go.

Ariadne peers out into the hall and looks down both ends, not seeing anything other than the rest of the doors, all closed, and the sconces that emitted a warm light. She slips through and begins to walk, her feet padding softly against the floor and she was hoping that the kitchen was in this direction or else she was going to be wandering around for a while; the House of Wind was huge.

She continues on with her hands clasped together in front of her, the pad of her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the top and she can’t help but look around, never having seen anything like it before. Not even Archeron Estate. The amount of money that Rhysand had to build something like this? He must’ve grown up rich. Her gaze roams over the intricate carvings on the large columned archways, head tilted in quiet admiration. They were pretty.

The hallway comes to a set of stairs, only four, and Ariadne pauses before taking each one down to find a kitchen to the left that led to what she assumed was the dining room, and held a grand table in the center with multiple high-backed chairs.

Yeah, definitely rich from birth, she walks further in and flicks her eyes over the cabinets, realizing that she had no clue where anything was. Look through all of them. It isn’t going to matter anyway, she reaches up on her tip-toes and her fingertips barely brush against the handle. Oh, great, she sighs. Where’s a ladder when you need one?

She notes the sink only a few inches away and she moves to crouch down in front, beginning to search through and eventually coming up empty. Please don’t tell me I have to climb on a counter, Ariadne stands back up straight. Again, there was really no other way, was there? Of course not.

Her brow furrows as she surveys the correct way to do it without getting hurt, knowing that no one was there to help if things went awry; she finally settles on using the shelf that went across the middle of the bottom cabinet to use to give her a boost and then she’d be able to get her leg up by bracing her weight against the wall.

It seemed simple enough.

After getting into position, Ariadne takes a breath and places her hand to the left as she pushes her foot against the shelf. She grunts from the effort to lift her leg, managing to get her knee onto the counter and use what strength she had to pull the rest of herself on top.

She grasps at the handle on the cabinet to steady herself before she adjusts her knees and leans over a little to open it, only to find plates. An annoyed huff makes her nostrils flare and she carefully shuts it. I should’ve just drank from the faucet again, her arm extends and her fingers wrap around the next handle as she moves over. This is way too much to do for a cup, she keeps her spine straight and prays to whatever higher power hailed over Prythian that this was the right one.

Ariadne pulls, and she doesn’t notice the fabric of her dress shift or when she starts to slide; she peeks inside and her eyes brighten when she sees what she had been hoping for. Yes!

Her body goes to lean like she had done a couple minutes ago and her knees give out from under her, a surprised sound leaving her lips as her other arm flails, unable to find anything to hold onto. No!

Everything went sideways and Ariadne began to fall, the top of her foot hitting the edge of the counter and she hisses through her teeth, eyes squeezing shut and bracing for the impact of her body against the tiled floor. But it never came. There was something looped around her waist, cool and soft, flowing like silk and holding with a gentleness that she had never felt before. What is it? Where did it come from?

Whatever it was had decided to turn her upright and place her down safely, which is when she decided to open her eyes; the first thing noticed were the wings, massive and actually really beautiful, but holding a power that matched that of the one, two, three, four… seven siphons, which reminded her of sapphires, and then it was the deep bronze skin that was littered with dirt, grime, and only the Gods knew what else, followed by a tousle of dark hair, slightly curly.

Though, what Ariadne noticed the most was the golden glow that faded into hazel. There was a mixture of guardedness, curiosity, and worry - maybe? - swirling within the shifting shades of green and brown, but she wasn’t sure if she could trust it. Azriel, I think. The other one is who Nesta can’t stand. Cassian? This is the… Spysinger, her lips pressed together. No, that isn’t right. Oh! Shadowmaster. Yeah, that makes more sense.

She blinks and realizes that she had been staring at him for longer than she should’ve and quickly refocuses to see that he had come around from the other side of the counter to stand a few feet away from her.

It looked like the Shadowmaster had been in a few fights and then slept on the ground afterwards, which was weird to her because she swore Cassian was the aggressive one. Never judge a book, Ari. People look at you and think you’re not capable of anything or that you’re stupid, she lifts her chin and finds that she could now only see his chest when she did that, so she tilts her head back further until she finds his face again.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Azriel watches in silence as the youngest Archeron sister - Ariadne - nearly breaks her neck in order to meet his gaze, the warm honey of her eyes full of questions, trepidation, and a sadness that was trying to hide itself and he was certain it was much larger than what he already caught. He found himself wishing he could ask her about it, but that was impossible for two important reasons; one, Azriel didn’t do things like that and two, even if he did, Ariadne wouldn’t be able to hear him.

And who was to say that if she could, she would answer?

He resorts to raising a single brow, inclining his head towards the counter as he keeps his sights set on her, surveying her expression for the slightest change; it starts with a flicker of surprise before shifting to neutral and she nods, the smallest of sighs emitting from her parted lips and she glances at the still open cabinet that held the cups, then tapping her fingers at the base of her throat.

Ah, he steps forward and reaches inside to grab one, lowering it down and handing it to her. There’s a moment of hesitation, though it doesn’t seem to be an aversion to him. It was more so of someone unsure how to accept help when they had been doing everything without it for a long time. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?

The ever-present shadows that swirled around Azriel became tense at the thought and he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind to be locked away.

Now wasn’t the time.

Ariadne was staring at the glass and he realized that she had no idea that the House of Wind would provide anything she wanted. After all, how was she going to know anything about a world she had been thrown into? Stories that passed over to the human lands weren’t always accurate.

Will you- He hears a quiet gasp and he cuts himself off, attention snapping back to the small Fae in front of him that was watching as… orange juice filled to the brim. Apparently, she figured it out a lot quicker than he thought she would. The corner of his mouth twitches. Smart girl.

Azriel takes a couple steps back and leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with his wings tucked behind. Ariadne turns her head and blinks at him, observing his position before giving a single dip of her chin and he had a feeling that it was her way of saying ‘thank you.’

He returns the gesture and she begins to walk by, more than likely heading back to her room, and that’s when he smells it; cherry blossoms. It was sweet and soft, hints of creamy vanilla bean and almond with a warmth that made him want to reach out and touch her.

It’s his turn to blink now and he waits for Ariadne to pass before he looks over his shoulder, hazel returning to that golden hue as she makes her way back up the steps and disappears down the hall. His shadows begin curling around his neck and ears, whispering to him in cool breaths, some louder than others.

She is special. Yes, special. And alone. Afraid. She is lost. No way to understand. She cannot ask. She wants to understand. Must help her understand. Yes. Help her.

Azriel gives a small tug and they fall silent, though they flick against his skin in protest and to show their evident distaste for his dismissal. He rolls his eyes with a heavy exhale, giving his head a shake before he pushes himself away from the counter and disappears into the same temperamental darkness that matched that of himself.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Ariadne was unsure how to feel about her brief interaction with Azriel; he understood what she’d been trying to do and had even helped her, which was odd for her, but it made him better than most people she had met. He didn’t invade her personal space either, didn’t try to do anything at all that would make her the slightest bit uncomfortable.

In fact, he seemed to be a fairly decent male. She couldn’t remember a single instance over the few times she had been around him - even as a human - where he had ever acted out or caused any sort of problem. And if he did, she had an inkling that it would have to be over something important.

Her eyes lifted to the window and found that the sun had set, painting the sky in magenta and lavender with bursts of burnt orange and yellow; it reminded her of something that Feyre might like to recreate on canvas. There’s a sharp pang in the center of her heart at the thought of her sister and she winces, reaching up to rub the spot with her hand.

It was hard without Feyre. Yes, Nesta and Elain were there, but they were handling being Made even worse than Ariadne was. At least she had left the room. Granted, it was only once and she wasn’t gone for that long. It was still more than what they were doing.

And that had to count for something, didn’t it?

Ariadne had been the closest with Feyre, in age and in every other way. They were inseparable and a lot of love was shared between the two of them, along with a deep-rooted loyalty and respect for who they each were. And now? She felt like she was missing a vital piece of herself that she didn’t know how to get back and the longer the stretch of days went on, the more painful it got.

She picks at the skin around her nails and shifts her gaze to the floor, not wanting to think about any of this anymore. That was the thing about having no way to talk to someone; she tended to inner-monologue and go too into detail about things, overwhelming herself until she disassociated from it all.

Not the best solution, but it worked for her.

A flicker of movement in the corner catches her attention and she zeroes in on it, eyes narrowing slightly. Don’t tell me this place has ghosts now, Ariadne stands, noting how it was darker than it should’ve been with the way the light was streaming in. Because I will find a way to get out of here. There can’t be that many stairs.

She takes a couple steps forward, head tilted with curiosity and a bit of fear if it was actually a ghost. Whatever you are, I’m not going to hurt you, so that means you can’t hurt me either. That’s how this works.

The unknown something moves again, causing a shift in the air that her new Fae eyes are able to detect; it looked like smoke, though more refined and smooth, shimmering with an iridescence that reminded her of the stars. She reaches out. What are you?

It slithers forward and Ariadne watches as it brushes against one of her fingers, almost as if it were curious about her too, and that’s when she feels that same softness that had been around her waist earlier, silken and surprisingly strong.

You’re one of Azriel’s shadows, it curls around her finger and Ariadne hums. What are you doing here? Did he send you?

The shadow moves further up until it’s wrapped around her wrist, the end curled between her fingers and she feels something push at the back of her skull. It didn’t hurt, but it was strange; it sort of felt like someone was trying to fit the wrong key into a lock.

Ariadne keeps her eye on the shadow and takes a breath. Are you trying to get in? Feyre mentioned that before, but I can’t remember what it’s called. It’s mind reading though, isn’t it? Are you saying I can do it too?

There’s an instantaneous pressure around her wrist and she sucks in another breath. Okay, that’s… Okay, her brow furrows; how did the shadow know before she did? Was it because of Azriel being their master? But then that would mean he would know too, wouldn’t he? And he had never given any inclination that he did, so how?

She wished she knew all of the information that Feyre had given back when she first showed them that she was High Fae. Ariadne could read, some, from the few books Nesta was able to get when they lived in the small cottage and then even more so when their father had suddenly been offered a business deal that made them wealthy again, not that she remembered any of that part of their life, and was given lessons; she didn’t like them and proceeded to have a glare off with her eldest sister until it was made clear that there would be no changing her mind.

Ariadne would teach herself.

And reading turned into writing.

But it had been slow going at first and when Feyre had arrived with Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, she had only gotten so far and there was some of it that had been written down that she either got mixed up or couldn’t remember at all. It was all bits and pieces.

The tightening around her wrist draws her attention back to the present and she shakes her head. Right. Focus, Ari. If the shadow is trying to tell me what I think it is, I have to try, don’t I?

Ariadne closes her eyes and recedes back into her mind, maneuvering through the jumbled mess of thoughts before she comes across an opalescent wall, shimmering with a moonlight glow and she couldn’t help but think how pretty it was. Why had she never noticed this before? Her head tilts and she probes further, searching for some way to open it.

It brushed softly against her just as the shadow did and she gave an instinctive squeeze in return before the wall of light brightened, beginning to shake and shift, soon revealing a small entryway for a single person to get through. She gasps.

Whoa! How did I do that? Ariadne opens her eyes and looks down to see the little thing was weaving between her fingers. Can you hear me now?

Yes.

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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago

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wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

#wifey #idk if I’m tagging anything right I don’t remember what I did last time #writing #cod fanfic #john price x reader #John price #Nikolai #Nikolai cod #Nikolai x reader #stepdad!nik #Cw stepcest #Cw coercion #cw manipulative

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kwanisms · 3 days ago

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Homecoming — k.hongjoong

After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT — 14.2k ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, reincarnated reader, mentions of: marriage, food & alcohol consumption, death, pregnancy, wanting to start a family, infidelity (its complicated, mc thinks she's dreaming); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — angst, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationship (Seonghwa & MC), married life; non idol au, demon au ❑ NOTES — THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LIBRARY OF ILLUSIONS SEQUEL. IF YOU PLAN ON READING THAT SERIES AND DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, SAVE THIS FIC FOR LAST. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!!! THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING I WILL GIVE. This takes place after the sequel to the Library of Illusion and as such, you can’t read directly what happens before this as it’s not written yet. If you’d like to read those, you can find the masterlist for the Library of Illusion here. There’s some heavy stuff in this so read with caution. Thank you for anyone reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: there’s a lot of dirty talk without smut so watch out for that, implied oral (f receiving), implied unprotected sex (don’t), voyeurism (Hongjoong), hot tub makeout, implied hot tub sex, vaginal penetration, nipple play (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), facefucking, deepthroating, piv sex, praise, dirty talk, degrading names (f receiving: slut, whore), mild impact play (spanking), forced cuckold (Seonghwa), somnophilia, slight dacryphilia (Joong likes it when Hwa cries), a lot of dirty talk on Joong’s part, breeding kink, cum inside, forced oral (MC is in a trance and Hongjoong forces her to give Hwa oral while he’s tied up), bondage/rope play (Seonghwa is basically bound and gagged through the whole thing up until the end), mild m × m (Hongjoong touches Seonghwa a couple times). If you don’t like this, don’t read. It’s fantasy and supposed to be a kind of gray area. Sorry, not sorry. I think I got all the warnings but if I missed any, please let me know!

One thing Hongjoong had never been prepared for was being turned into a demon. It hadn’t been his choice, he’d been betrayed by his neighbors. His only consolation were the centuries he spent luring people to his prison, deep in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains, and collecting their souls. It had all been going well.

Until you came along.

Upon seeing you for the first time, Hongjoong didn’t know you were the reincarnation of his servant’s dead fiancée. He didn’t really care. At least, that was until you started to cause problems. He watched as you slowly uncovered the truth, learning about your past life and about the Library of Illusion, the place Hongjoong called home.

The vampire opened your eyes and when you had regained your memories from your previous life, Hongjoong watched your reunion with a mixture of fascination and irritation. It didn’t matter really, not when you were going to venture further and then he would collect your soul, just as he had done for hundreds of years already.

Only, his sight was obscured soon after you returned to Seonghwa. It was only moments later when he realized you had entered the Restricted Section, so he pushed the occurrence to the back of his mind. In the end, it wasn’t going to matter.

Oh how foolish he had been.

He gave you the same head start he’d given the others. Chased you through the maze and you managed to escape into the halls. He would give you your time, allow you to explore before he would finally descend. He managed to find and intercept you in the hallway, cut off your exit route and was surprised when you gave in so easily.

He didn’t realize you had a plan.

He still remembered the sharp sting of pain from the dagger as it pierced his chest. He remembered the incantation you hissed as you twisted the knife, white hot pain searing throughout his body, the heat spreading from the wound almost as if he’d been poisoned.

And he had. You’d coated the knife in something before driving it into him. You were quick after that, taking off further into the halls. Hongjoong dragged himself up, ignoring the pain and blood that poured out of him as he followed you, stumbling into the walls as he tried to keep up.

The poison you’d infected him with caused him to transform, the visage of his human form melting away to reveal the demon he’d become until almost none of his humanity remained and instead a lumbering, grotesque monster stood in his place.

He finally tracked you down, rounding the corner to find you weren’t alone. The vampire was with you. He had turned on him. He, the vampire, had turned on him, Hongjoong, all because of a woman. Hongjoong underestimated the strength of the love between the two which allowed the vampire to free himself from Hongjoong’s control.

Hongjoong could never have expected that the vampire would go snooping while his attention was occupied with chasing you. The vampire surprised him by reciting the same banishing incantation the priest had used on him all those years ago, pinning Hongjoong in place. Hongjoong never expected the vampire to pull the knife out and shove it back in deeper as he called Hongjoong by his demon name.

The vampire used the combination of the poison, the wound, the incantation, and the name to finish what the priests could not and banished Hongjoong back to hell, something the demon never saw coming. His fall back into hell was much like the first; blackness, fire and brimstone, and burning, but instead of the white light saving him, he broke through rock and fell into the depths of Hell.

He passed through one of the rings, landing hard onto the smooth stone floor of the second. Pain spread throughout his body, the air leaving his lungs and leaving him winded.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of the Panopticon of the Second Ring of Hell. A light blinded him as two figures approached. Hongjoong got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright light glaring down on him.

He squinted, looking at the two figures as they stopped at the edge of the light. “Who is that?” he called, his voice echoing around the room. He waited for them to answer, to move, but the figures did neither. Instead they stood at the edge of the light, hidden in the darkness, watching him. He could feel their eyes upon him. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes of silence, The light finally lessened, instead of a bright intense light, it was a much dimmer golden glow. Hongjoong blinked, his eyes adjusting as he lowered his hand. The figures had multiplied, now standing in a circle around him still in the shadow. The same two figures from the beginning started to advance, stepping into the golden glow and Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

The figures, a man and a woman, walked forward. Dressed in black hooded cloaks, they continued forward, walking the long distance towards him. Hongjoong stood still, watching them as they advanced and took this opportunity to give them both a good once over.

The man was tall with black hair and cat-like, piercing eyes. The woman was shorter than her companion. She had doe-like eyes, silvery blonde hair, and a very youthful look. The pair stopped just before him and in unison, removed their hoods.

Hongjoong stared back and forth between the two as silence fell over the trio.

Finally, it was the woman who spoke first in a soft voice. “Welcome back, Dannarok,” she said with a warm smile. Upon hearing the name, Hongjoong recoiled slightly. The smile on the woman’s face never faltered. The man raised a brow. “Does the sound of your own name repulse you?” he asked, his voice a deeper pitch than Hongjoong’s but not so deep.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“It has been such a long time since he has heard,” the woman answered for him. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. She was reading his mind. “Such a shame,” the man said, turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “And we gave you that name, too.”

“Why am I here?” Hongjoong asked suddenly, cutting the man off. “You’ve been banished back here,” the woman answered, her golden eyes studying him closely. “You can’t just send me back?” Hongjoong asked. “Back?” the man repeated in a questioning tone. “Back where?”

Hongjoong gestured up. “Top side,” he answered. The man and woman exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. “Send you back topside? To do what, exactly?” the man asked as he looked back at Hongjoong who stared between the man and woman, anger bubbling under his skin. Why the hell were they laughing at him? It was a reasonable request, wasn’t it?

“You had your chance up there,” the man finally said. “You were up there for hundreds of years,” the woman interjected. “Spent hundreds of years doing nothing, I might add,” the man continued. “No souls collected, no women impregnated, no murder, no maiming,” he continued. “Well,” the woman said quickly. “There were those priests,” she reminded him.

“Right, and that expedition party,” he nodded before looking back at Hongjoong. “Not nearly enough death for hundreds of years spent up there.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I killed far more than that. I had thousands upon thousands of victims,” he said incredulously. “Right,” the man said, nodding. “The thousands upon thousands of souls that escaped when you were banished by a vampire and his reincarnated fiancée?”

Hongjoong’s blood began to boil. How dare they speak to him with such contempt. Such… disregard.

“The sheer volume of souls you collected was admirable,” the woman began but the man interrupted her yet again and for a split second, Hongjoong could see the annoyance on her face. “But your failure to bring them here,” the man said, his voice full of derision. “Did you forget the part where I was confined to that shell of a building in the forest in the middle of the fucking mountains?” Hongjoong snapped.

As quickly as the words left his mouth, the man moved, wrapping his fingers around Hongjoong’s throat and lifting him off the ground with ease. Hongjoong struggled against the man’s grip, clawing at his hand, the toes of his shoes scraping against the concrete floor.

“Watch your tone,” the man snarled, the voice of a thousand souls emanating from him as his red irises glowed. The woman stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm gently. “Sam,” she whispered, looking up at him with her golden, doe-like eyes. The man quickly dropped Hongjoong and stepped back, taking a deep breath and grounding himself.

“My apology, Lils,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “Won’t happen again.” The woman smiled at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to Hongjoong who was massaging his neck, glaring at the man, Sam. “My apologies, Dannarok,” the woman, Lils, said. She offered a kind hand to help him, which Hongjoong took, allowing her to pull him to his feet with surprising strength.

“The point we are trying to make is that you spent a long time topside,” Lils said softly, keeping a hold of Hongjoong’s hand, holding it up and placing her other hand over the back of his hand. “But there isn’t much to show for it. You’re here but there’s nothing else. All those souls have been released and sent to the afterlife. Some have ended up in the different levels but many of them went… up,” she said, trailing off slightly before raising her gaze towards the ceiling.

“What if I went back and collected more souls?” Hongjoong asked softly. Lils’ eyes met his again and she smiled kindly. “Unfortunately, without anything to show for your first time up there, and with nothing binding you to the Earth, you cannot return. You would have to collect the souls again. The amount you had before but that would require hundreds of years and you don’t have that kind of trust from us.”

Hongjoong felt his stomach slowly start to churn. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you will have to stay here.” Hongjoong’s stomach sank. “Stay here?” Lils nodded. “But you get a choice,” she explained. “You can either spend eternity in here,” she said, gesturing to the round room.

Hongjoong looked up as more light filled the room, illuminating the various cells set into the stone walls. Cells upon cells lined the walls, extending up and up, thin walkways with iron railings providing access to the upper cells. Each cell had iron bars and all of the cells on the ground level were occupied. Darkness lay within the cells so Hongjoong could not see the contents.

He turned his eyes back to Lils. “Or you can spend eternity outside the Panopticon where the high speed winds will whip you around, stinging your face, and chilling you to the bone. Out there, you will spend eternity in discomfort,” she continued. “In here, you will be comfortable for a time but then you will slowly go mad. It’s your choice.”

Hongjoong stared back at her as she waited for him to choose as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He glanced around at the cells once more before imagining what it was like outside the Panopticon. The winds sounded almost worse but the thought of slowly losing his mind kept him from picking the former. He was stuck at a crossroads.

He glanced around once more, hoping to find a way out, though he couldn’t see one.

Hongjoong resigned himself to his fate. “Put me in a cell,” he said. Lils gave him an apologetic smile and nodded to a figure Hongjoong hadn’t noticed joined them. He was then led to a set of concrete stairs that looked altogether unstable and ready to collapse at any moment. After climbing up several staircases he was led to a cell, the door opened as they approached, and he reluctantly stepped inside, promising himself he would one day get out.

The first day went by with no indication that a new day had started. Hongjoong lay on the small rickety cot against the wall, staring at the ceiling of his cell as those around him screamed, pounded on the walls, and rattled the bars of their doors. He shut his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds. He imagined he was anywhere else. A vision came to his mind.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a forest. His forest. He looked around at the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the canopy and dancing on the ground as birds and other cheerful forest sounds surrounded him. He turned his head, his gaze finding a sight he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years.

His cabin. It was just as he remembered leaving it all those centuries ago when Yeosang came to get him with a mob of villagers. The night he’d told you to take his box and hide it. The last night he’d been freed before his death. He walked towards the cabin, finding it void of life.

The front door stood ajar. He approached it slowly, reaching out to push the wooden door open. The inside of the cabin was different than he remembered. It was all stone instead of wood. He looked around at the dark stone walls and floor, his eyes picking up a trail of blood. He stopped, following the trail with his eyes until he reached the source.

His stomach churned, eyes widening in horror as he took in the sight of two bodies lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the round room. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from vacant expressions of both Stella and Yeosang and he let out a scream.

Back in the cell, Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open and he was met with the rough stone ceiling of his cell. ‘You’re still there,’ he thought to himself. Over the centuries, Hongjoong hadn’t been able to rid himself of his host’s thoughts. The body he inhabited, the name he went by, the identity he’d stolen. He was not actually Hongjoong. He was Dannarok. Hongjoong was the name of the body he inhabited. The witch who had been sacrificed as a body for him to inhabit.

Hongjoong sat up quickly. He hadn’t come back empty handed after all. He’d brought back a soul. Hongjoong’s soul. He glanced towards the door and contemplated his options. One soul wasn’t enough to free him but surely, it was enough to give him at least a day out? It was worth the risk.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he got up and walked over to the door, peering out into the Panopticon. He looked around, seeing no one. He cleared his throat and called out. “Anyone there?” he asked. There was no response. He tried again, deciding to call out to the woman. She seemed much more open to negotiations than the man.

“Lils?” Hongjoong tried again, a little louder. The manic chanting and screams from the other cells didn’t do much to cover his voice and yet, there was still no response. “Lils!” he tried again, a little louder. “I have a proposition for you!” That seemed to do the trick. A pair of tall, cloaked guards appeared, face obscured by black cloth as they flanked the much smaller Lils who had removed her cloak and underneath wore a simple pastel purple dress.

“A proposition?” she inquired, tilting her head. Her hair fell in loose curls down past her shoulders, two small black bows clipped into her hair. “What sort of proposition?” Hongjoong leaned against the bars, his hands curling around the cool iron. “I didn’t come back empty-handed,” Hongjoong started. “I brought a soul with me.” Lils stared at him before smiling.

“I figured you would like to keep that one,” she explained. “Someone to keep you company.” Hongjoong shook his head. “To be honest, I’d like to be rid of him. He would drive me insane faster than being locked in here.” Lils’ smile fell slightly. “Is that so?” she asked. Hongjoong wasn’t sure what she meant but he nodded. “So how about I hand him over and you give me a day topside? One day. 24 hours.”

Lils looked at him, studying him carefully. “Twenty four hours? You think you deserve such a long time topside for one human soul?” Lils asked, tilting her head. Hongjoong felt his stomach sink. “Is that not how it works?” he asked. Lils sighed. “You have to see this from my perspective,” she said softly. “You’re considered a flight risk. I could give you twenty four hours and you could disappear for years. I can’t risk that. But if you really want to get rid of the soul, I can take it from you.”

Hongjoong took a step back. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not unless I get something in return. Until you can offer me what I want, I’ll keep the soul.” Lils kept her eyes on him as he sank back into the cell and sat back down on the bed. She turned away, the cloaked figures flanking her as she walked away, leaving Hongjoong with a few parting words.

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Hongjoong’s days were filled with the same routine. Sleep, wake up, stare at the ceiling while the winds outside the panopticon raged on, shaking the building fiercely, despite its strong construction. It made him infinitely grateful he chose to spend eternity inside rather than outside. The days blurred together as there was no rise or fall of a sun or moon. No clocks, no calendars, nothing to help show the passage of time. It soon became irrelevant. Three days, three weeks, three years? None of it mattered.

Soon, Hongjoong couldn’t sleep as his dreams were being commandeered by the faint soul inside that tried desperately to regain control. He hadn’t been this weak since he first took over the body of the witch. He was growing weaker and weaker and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep control. As he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he heard a voice, whispering into his ear.

‘Get up.’

Hongjoong sat up quickly, looking around. He saw nothing as he surveyed his surroundings. The cell was empty, save for him. The chamberpot and sink sat undisturbed, there was no window and the only light came through the bars of his door from the dim glow outside. When he was certain he was alone, he started to lay back down but was greeted with the same whisper.

‘I said get up!’

Hongjoong got up, getting off the bed and backed against the wall opposite it, staring at his bed. Was this it? Was he finally starting to lose it? Would he soon be joining his neighbors and fellow inmates in their manic screams and pounding on the walls of his cell, smearing his shit on the walls and shaking the bars of his door?

‘You’re not going crazy,’ the voice said. ‘It’s me. It’s Hongjoong.’

Hongjoong relaxed as the voice spoke to him. He realized it wasn’t a whisper, at least not from an external force. It was coming from inside his mind. “Wh-what do you want?” he asked the witch. ‘I want out of here. I didn’t ask for any of this,’ the voice in his mind said. ‘I’ve sat by and watched you ruin my life, use my body for heinous acts and couldn’t do anything. For hundreds of years, I’ve been a prisoner in my own body but not anymore.’

Hongjoong stood still as he listened. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “It’s not like I can really go anywhere. We’re stuck here.” He glanced around the room. There was truly no way out that he could see. ‘You’re thinking too physically,’ the voice in his mind said, a hint of amusement. ‘There’s no physical exit, that’s true. But has there ever been a physical entrance and exit to Hell?’

Hongjoong was starting to catch on, a smile spreading across his face. “So,” he started, walking back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge.

“What do you need me to do?”

Rain fell, thundering rumbling as you glanced out the rain streaked windows. “I didn’t know it was supposed to storm,” you said softly as Seonghwa came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Perhaps we should have stayed in bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We can’t sleep in bed all day,” you countered as you watched the rain fall, hitting the standing water on the empty circle drive.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Seonghwa mumbled into your ear, his breath tickling you as his hands moved down to your hips. “I wasn’t talking about sleeping.” You turned in his hold, your hands smoothing up his chest over the soft linen shirt he wore. “You never want to sleep,” you reminded him. “I’m starting to get sore.”

Seonghwa let out a chuckle as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Can you blame me?” he asked against your lips. “I spent hundreds of years trapped in that forest. Hundreds of years alone,” he continued, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips in between words. “Centuries without you,” he added. He pulled back to look at you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.

“And the universe deemed me worthy of a second chance with the only person I have ever loved?” he asked, eyes scanning your face as he took in every detail. “I’m going to take advantage of that every minute I can.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly as your eyes fluttered shut. “If I could spend the rest of eternity making love to you, I would,” he added softly, making your cheeks flush.

“Kissing and tasting every inch of your body,” he continued, lips ghosting over yours as he leaned in close. “Taking my time, making you feel every inch of me as I drag you deeper into the throes of passion,” he continued, nose gently bumping against yours. “Whispering words of praise and affirmations of my love and devotion to you,” he added. “I’ll settle for spending every day of the rest of our lives doing just that.”

You giggled as he pulled you into another kiss, the sound muffled by his mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, meeting yours in a slow, languide dance. Seonghwa pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, blossom,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

You were about to respond when a loud beeping sounded, ringing out from the kitchen. You pulled back to look at him. “That’s lunch,” you said smiling up at him, reluctantly pulling from his grasp but not before stealing another kiss.

Seonghwa followed you to the kitchen as you grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven, grabbing the dish inside and pulling it out and setting it on top of the range, closing the oven door and turning it off. Seonghwa leaned against the kitchen island, watching you work. “You know,” he started.

“We could have had the staff do this,” he reminded you as you started to cut up the contents of the baking dish, a lasagna. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust my cooking?” you asked, the tone of your voice playful. Seonghwa let out a laugh and stood up straight, crossing the small space between you as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“It’s not that, my love,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “I just would have rather let the staff do this and I could have gotten more time in bed with you.” Shaking your head, you laughed as you finished dividing the lasagna up. “Is the table set?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “Yes, dear,” he said, stealing a kiss. “Go sit down,” you instructed.

“You’re not serving me,” he protested but you pouted at him. “Please let me play your dutiful and doting wife for one day,” you pleaded, making him laugh as he finally let go of you. “Fine,” he said as he started towards the archway that led into the dining room. “But only because you asked me oh so nicely,” he added, pointing at you before disappearing. You grabbed the dish with the pot holders and carried it from the kitchen into the dining room.

When you moved into Seonghwa’s ancestral mansion, you’d never been accustomed to such luxury. His family owned a gorgeous mansion deep in the mountainous countryside of Korea. It was a grand home with 3 floors and a sprawling basement. It boasted a total of eleven bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a movie theater, six car garage, an extensive private library, multiple parlors, drawing rooms, and even a ballroom.

The grounds were extensive, with multiple private gardens, a lake that was kept well stocked, forests for hunting, a guest house with five bedrooms, horse stables, outdoor tennis court and basketball court. You weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten lost on a number of occasions. When you moved in, Seonghwa had offered for you to have your own room separate from his and while you did in the beginning, it was lonely sleeping in such a large bed all by yourself and you gravitated to his suite which you eventually moved into.

It wasn’t long afterwards that you got married. Seonghwa had proposed almost the moment you stepped foot into the house when he sent for you a few years ago while you were visiting the country. You accepted of course, not wanting to be parted from him for another second. After a year-long engagement, your wedding was held at the house, Seonghwa invited his surviving family. It was a small, intimate affair and afterwards, you went on a month-long honeymoon, traveling and visiting various places.

Seonghwa wasted no time in taking you to bed after you were married. He had a voracious sexual appetite and proved to be a very skilled and adept lover. Your bedroom activities had yet to bear any fruit but you both weren’t in any rush to have children. You wanted it to happen naturally, if it happened at all.

You set the lasagna down on the table as Seonghwa watched you from his seat. “Salad?” you asked, picking up the bowl. He said nothing, merely nodding as he watched you with a smile. You filled his plate with salad before serving yourself. You then set the bowl down and grabbed his plate to place a slice of lasagna on it and set it back down to serve your own food.

“Alright,” Seonghwa said as you set the serving spoon down. “Food’s been served, now sit down please.” You rolled your eyes but obliged, sitting in the chair adjacent to his at the head of the table. “At least I’m sitting here,” you said as you picked up your fork. “And not down there.” Seonghwa followed your gaze to the opposite end of the table and immediately took your free hand. “I would absolutely despise it if you sat that far away from me,” he said softly, gently massaging your hand.

You nodded towards his plate. “Eat,” you urged. “Before it gets cold.” Seonghwa’s eyes never left your face. “And what if I want to eat something else?” You looked up to meet his dark gaze. “Eat your lunch and you can have your dessert early,” you offered. He perked up. “My dessert?” he inquired. “What’s for dessert?” You met his gaze, fighting the urge to smile. “Me.”

Seonghwa didn’t complain or speak again until his plate was clear. You’d never seen some wolf down their food so fast. Once lunch had been eaten and the leftovers put away, you started to clean up, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance. Still, as a dutiful husband, he helped you wash the dishes, wiping and putting them away as you handed them to him.

Once you were done, and the sink was rinsed down, Seonghwa pounced, hands guiding you until your back met the cool marble of the counters. He lifted you onto the edge, lips kissing down the side of your neck as he laid you back. His lips continued down, kissing over the material of your sundress until he lifted the skirt and pulled your panties from you.

“Hwa,” you whined as he kissed down the inside of your thigh closer and closer to your aching heat. “You couldn’t have waited until we got back to the bedroom?” you asked, back arching as his breath fanned over your sex. “You said I could have my dessert if I finished my lunch,” he whispered, licking his lips as he drew level with your core.

“And I never eat in bed.”

Hongjoong wasn’t sure how he got out of his cell but the feeling of the cold rain hitting his skin was a shock, his eyes snapping open to find himself staring up at the gray skies. He sat up, looking around. He was lying in the middle of a paved road, pine forests surrounding him. He got to his feet, scrambling up as he looked around and ran to the side of the road and stumbling into the trees to regain his composure and get a sense of his surroundings.

He leaned against a tree, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He reached up, running his fingers through the soaked strands and pushing them back from his face. He was in the mortal world once more. He’d managed to find a weak point and was now topside. It was only a matter of time before the powers that be discovered his escape and would come for him.

‘You tricked me,’ a voice hissed. Hongjoong looked down at his hands and smiled to himself. He was back in control of the witch’s body. ‘You said you’d free me!’ Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “And I will,” he responded. “This body is mine,” he said. “Once I’ve had my revenge, I’ll let you go.”

‘Revenge? What revenge?’

Hongjoong stood up and stepped back onto the road, looking to his left and then his right. Both directions, the road stretched and curved out of sight. He turned back to the left and started walking, a destination in his mind. He’d picked this place because he knew what he’d find close by.

He continued to walk, enjoying the feeling of the rain on his skin, the clothes he wore now soaked and clinging to his skin. He hadn’t seen a single soul, not a car or any other sign of life. He followed the winding road until he reached a large iron gate. A ten foot tall stone wall separated him from his destination but that wouldn’t deter him.

There was a placard in the iron bars of the gate, an emblem of sorts. The letters P and E engraved into the iron. Hongjoong walked up to the gate and grabbed the bars. He tried to push and pull but the gate didn’t budge. Sighing, he glanced up at the top of the stone wall. He’d have to find some other way in.

Stepping off the road, he followed the stone wall through the woods, sliding down a hill from the road and continued to walk, hoping to find either a break in the wall or a shorter section. As he walked, leaves and twigs snapping and crunching underfoot, he contemplated what he was about to do. He was full of rage and contempt for the inhabitants of this estate. Why should they get their happy ending while he was doomed to spend eternity in a cell?

Luck was on his side when he found a section of the wall where the stone bulged out a little more creating small places where he could grab and climb. Hongjoong easily scaled the wall, climbing over the top and dropping back down on the other side. He walked forward, following a pull he couldn’t explain. His walk didn’t take long as a large sprawling mansion appeared through the trees.

He stopped at the edge of the forest, looking up at the imposing manor and scoffed. “Of course he comes from money,” he murmured to himself. Keeping to the shadow of the forest, Hongjoong made his way to the house, keeping his eyes and ears open. He reached the side of the house and carefully walked around towards the back, glancing up to find a balcony. “Bingo.”

He carefully started to climb a tree next to the house, peering through the windows into empty rooms until he reached the top floor and peered into the room. It was a massive bedroom. A large four poster bed stood against the wall opposite the window, burgundy bed linens decorate the bed along with the curtains for the four posters. Hongjoong leaned in closer, squinting as he tried to see past the rain streaked glass panes.

There was movement in the bed, the sheets moving. He glanced over to the balcony and made a decision. He carefully stood up on the branch and stepped lightly until he was close enough to jump to the balcony, landing on the stone railing. He quietly jumped down and crouched, making his way over to the french doors. He ducked under a window beside the doors and carefully peered over the window sill.

From this position, he could see a little better. He felt heat rise in him as he recognized the vampire. The one he’d made his servant for centuries. ‘Seonghwa,’ the witch’s voice said. ‘His name is Seonghwa and you ruined his life.’ Hongjoong ignored the voice as he watched the scene inside the room. It was very clear what he was seeing. The vampire, Seonghwa, in the midst of intimacy with…

Hongjoong’s blood boiled as he recognized your face. The woman who had destroyed everything he built. The reason he was banished to begin with, all his hard work decimated. Hongjoong watched as you sat up, taking control and pushing Seonghwa onto his back. He watched the way your hips moved and he could vaguely remember how it felt when you were on top of him, hand on his neck as you rode him before you stabbed him.

Hongjoong watched as your movements sped up, hips moving faster, Seonghwa’s hands moving to your hips as he moved with you. Hongjoong’s rage only grew as pleasure overtook the both of you and you no doubt came together. He watched as you leaned down, kissing your lover before he finally tore his gaze away from the scene.

His luck couldn’t have gotten better. Here you both were. He could enact his revenge all at once.

He peered into the room once more, finding you both had started to move. He would have to hide until night before he could put his plan into motion. He stayed crouched as he moved towards the edge of the balcony and climbed over, dropping to the ground and making his way into the forest to lie in wait.

You watched as Seonghwa dressed in silence from the safety of the bathtub. He turned to find you watching him. “What?” he asked softly. You shook your head, instead letting your eyes rake over his form. “I was hoping you’d join me,” you said as you sank further into the bubbles. Seonghwa smiled as he adjusted his collar and walked over, taking a seat on the step of the tub.

“As much as I’d love that,” he murmured. “I do need to attend to some business.” He leaned over to meet you in a kiss. “Just a couple online meetings,” he said reassuringly. “And then I am yours for the rest of the day and night. Maybe we’ll take a dip in the hot tub,” he suggested, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Or just come back to the room and I’ll focus on putting a baby inside you.”

You felt your stomach flutter at his words. You’d been married for two years now and you had both talked extensively about wanting to start a family. You’d both just been enjoying married life and waiting for nature to take its course but apparently Seonghwa was growing impatient. “Put a baby in me?” you asked softly, leaning back against the backrest. Seonghwa nodded, eyes following you.

“I won’t stop until I know you’re carrying my baby,” he answered. “If I have to fuck you for a week straight, I will,” he added. You were about to respond when he reached down, grabbing you gently by the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. “Hold that thought,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He pressed another soft kiss to your lips. “I love you, my petal.”

“Love you,” you responded as he got up and backed away from the tub through the double doors into the bedroom and slowly shut the doors until you were left alone in the room.

You let out a sigh and rested against the plush backrest, soaking in the warmth of the soapy water. Your eyes slid shut as you basked, enjoying the quiet while you were able to. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you sat up quickly, water splashing softly as you did. You glanced around the room, taking in the soft tones of the walls and cabinets.

You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. The water was lukewarm and most of the bubbles had disappeared and the water was instead a murky white from the combination of soaps and bath salts you added. Pulling the plug, you got out of the bath, letting the water drain as you turned on the shower and stepped in to rinse off quickly before heading to the closet and picking out something to wear.

You opted for a fitted dress with a pastel marbled look. It had ruching and off the shoulder sleeves. The hem fell to the middle of your shin and hugged your body. You chose not to wear underwear under it in case your husband got any ideas and that was one less barrier between you.

You slipped on a pair of simple white flats and walked out of the closet, heading out of the master suite and started to wander the halls. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Seonghwa left you in the tub but you would wait for him to find you when his meetings were done.

You made your way through the house, the thunder still rumbling in the distance as the rain continued to come down. It was a dreary day so you would definitely not be venturing outside today. You crossed the large entrance hall, your footsteps echoing off the stone floor.

Picking a random hall, you followed it until you picked one of the various doors and turned the knob, pushing it open and peering inside. Even after three years in this house, you hadn’t seen everything it had to offer.

The room you picked seemed to be a parlor of sorts. There was a gorgeous dark blue furniture set decorated the room. A loveseat and two arm chairs. The dark blue cushions were contrasted by the white oak wood and gold accents stood in the middle of the room. Under the window was a small cabinet made from the same white oak with glass doors revealing the contents inside.

Various knickknacks sat on the shelves, hiding behind the glass and staying pristine. Two end tables that matched stood on either side of the loveseat with ornate lamps sitting on them. Behind the couch was a larger cabinet, various glasses sat on a tray upside down to prevent dust from settling inside. The doors of the cabinet were solid white oak with gold hardware and as you approached, you opened one of the doors to find various bottles of alcohol inside ranging from brandy and cognac to vodka and soju.

Shutting the door, you turned to face the wall behind you where another cabinet stood, glass doors revealing more knickknacks and books. On top of the cabinet was a collection of frames with various portraits. You walked closer, inspecting them one by one until you found one that caught your eye. It was a double frame connected by a hinge with two photos sitting behind the frames.

Picking it up, you stared in awe at the sight of a picture of Seonghwa, much like the one you’d found in the forest all those years ago when you visited the Library and escaped. You still had that photo, tucked away for safekeeping but here it was, a larger version of it. In the other frame was a picture of a woman who looked remarkably like you. “Blossom,” you whispered as you stared at the photo.

It was uncanny how much you looked alike and yet there were subtle differences in the hair, the eyes, the lips, and a few other places. You were so preoccupied by inspecting the photos that you didn’t hear the door open. “There you are,” a voice said, drawing you back to reality and you jumped, nearly dropping the photo frame. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, hand on the knob as he looked at you.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly, pushing the door open and joining you. Nodding, you glanced down at the frame in your hands. Seonghwa gently took the frame from you and placed it back on the cabinet before taking your hand. “Come,” he urged gently. “I have something to show you.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been in that room, staring at the photo as your thoughts consumed you but the sky had started to darken as the sun set and night settled in. Seonghwa led you through the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the pool room. It was a sort of four seasons room but it had the pool and hot tub built in. During the warmer months, the large windows opened up but in the winter, they closed, allowing you to enjoy the pool and hot tub year round.

Seonghwa stopped once he pulled you into the room. He’d set various candles around the room, ranging from small tea lights to large candles. All of them were lit and there was a small path of rose petals leading towards the hot tub. “I figure we could order in,” he suggested. “You cooked lunch, which was lovely, but the whole point of this day is for me to pamper you.”

A laugh escaped your lips. “That’s not the point of the day,” you reminded him. “It’s a celebration of our love.” Seonghwa nodded. “And the way I show you how I love you is by not letting you do anything while I have everything done for us,” he explained. You laughed again as you allowed him to pull you closer.

“And I show my love by making you food and being your loving wife,” you countered. “Besides, the steaks have been marinating all day.” Seonghwa sighed in defeat. “Fine,” he conceded. “But after dinner, we can take a dip?” he asked, his voice full of hope. You nodded as you kissed his cheek. “But put the candles out for now. Don’t want anything to catch fire while I cook and we eat.”

You turned and left while he did that and you got started on dinner.

Since it was still raining and you really didn’t want to go outside, even if it grill was covered, you made dinner inside. Seonghwa stood on standby to help where needed and to give you encouraging kisses until you finally kicked him out, telling him to go relax. He instead sat at the island and observed you, his eyes following your every move.

He kept you company while you sliced potatoes for the au gratin potatoes, watching you carefully. You managed to finish without incident and place the dish in the oven while you got started on making a dessert. Seonghwa watched you through it all, fascinated by the way you worked so diligently. “I really am the luckiest man in the world,” he said, chin resting in his hands as you finished the no bake cheesecake and placed it in the fridge to set.

“I’m the lucky one,” you retorted as you turned on the range, ready to start cooking the steaks. Seonghwa watched from his perch as you seared the steaks, cooking them to the level of doneness that you knew he liked. “Smells good,” he commented as you took a break from the steaks to get the potatoes from the oven, setting them on the island to cool for a bit.

Seonghwa got up, walking around to look at them more closely before walking over to kiss your cheek. He disappeared as you returned your focus to the steaks. Once you were sure they were done, you pulled them from the skillet and set them on a cutting board to rest while you made a sauce.

Seonghwa returned a little while later carrying the plates you’d set out for the two of you. “What are you doing?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as he set the plates and placemats down at the kitchen island. “There’s no reason for us to sit at that massive dining table,” he explained. “We’ll just eat in here.”

You shook your head as you turned off the range. Seonghwa joined you as you plated his steak, drizzling the sauce over it and served a scoop of the potatoes while he plated some of the salad you had prepared earlier. You finished your plate and joined him at the kitchen island while he poured two glasses of wine.

The food was some of the best you’d cooked and Seonghwa couldn’t stop expressing his compliments. When you finished, he helped you clean up once more and while you were checking the dessert, Seonghwa came up behind you. “I like this dress,” he murmured, his hands moving to your hips, smoothing over the fabric.

“When did you get it?” he asked as you stood up and shut the fridge door to face him. “A few weeks ago,” you answered. “I was supposed to wear it to that charity event but I got sick.” Seonghwa nodded. “I remember that,” he said as he pulled you against him. “You insisted I go to the event without you,” he said, cupping your cheek. “And you should have,” you reminded him.

“How could I go and leave my beautiful, ailing wife alone at home?” he asked, swaying softly. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he added. “I would have spent the whole night worrying about you. I would much rather be by your side.” You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. “Which I appreciate but it’s not like I was dying. I had the stomach flu,” you reminded him.

Seonghwa chuckled against your lips as you kissed him again. “So,” he said, changing the trajectory of the conversation. “What are you wearing under this,” he asked, running his hands up your sides and towards your back to pull you taut against him. “Under this?” you asked, gesturing at your dress. He nodded as you leaned in, lips close to his ear. “Absolutely nothing.”

The speed at which he dragged you from the kitchen to the pool room was astonishing, quickly stripping you of your dress and guiding you into the hot tub. The rose petals that had been floating on the surface of the water were now being swirled around by the bubbles as the jets turned on.

“You really didn’t need to do all this,” you said as Seonghwa walked around, lighting the candles once more before starting to strip himself and join you in the tub, grabbing your hand under the water and pulling you closer. “I know,” he murmured as he sat on one of the seats, pulling you onto his lap.

“I wanted to.” His lips enveloped yours as his arms wrapped around you. You rested your forearms on his shoulders, fingers combing through his hair as you both got caught up in a steamy exchange of tongues and breathy moans. “I said I wasn’t going to stop until you’re pregnant,” he reminded you, lips ghosting over your skin as he guided you over his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with your slit and slowly pushing you down onto him.

You let out a gasp as your walls sucked him in, ignoring the dull ache as his cock filled you. “F-fuck, baby,” you groaned as he bottomed out with a shaky breath. “Happy anniversary, blossom,” he whispered in your ear.

Night had fallen by the time Hongjoong returned to the mansion, exiting the forest under the cover of darkness. He’d watched from the trees as you and Seonghwa enjoyed a moment of intimacy in what you presumed was the privacy of your pool room and yet he was there in the trees watching, taking notes, and waiting.

He climbed the tree from before, making his way onto the balcony and crept over to the window to peer in. It was dark in the room and he could just barely make out yours and Seonghwa’s sleeping forms, tangled in the sheets. He crept over to the door and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly until it clicked softly and he was able to open the door and sneak inside and out of the rain.

With the door shut behind him, he stayed low, crossing the room to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. Once inside, he felt he could stand and so he did, removing his shoes and socks and slowly stripping himself of his wet clothes and walked into the closet which the automatic light turned on. He browsed through Seonghwa’s clothes, picking out a few items and dressing in silence.

He made his way back out, the light shutting off behind him. He quietly opened the door, peering out into the room where you were sleeping, the sheets pulled up to your waist. You slept peacefully as he approached, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

Hongjoong slowly lowered himself to his knees beside you and reached out, gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in, close to your ear. “Follow the sound of my voice,” he whispered. “Find me.”

He carefully got up, walking around the bed, keeping his eyes on your form, only glancing at Seonghwa as he neared the door. He carefully opened it, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door until it was open only a sliver. He walked down the hall, the steps of his bare feet muffled against the wooden floor. He opened doors as he walked past, peering inside to find unused bedrooms.

He kept going until he found a set of stairs and descended them, finding more rooms to inspect. He found one to his liking and entered it, exploring as he waited for you to awaken from your slumber and find him. He left the room and made his way downstairs, entering a parlor of sorts. He examined the room as he made his way to the fireplace and with a click of his fingers, a fire started. He rounded the couch, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass bottle to pour himself a glass of amber liquid.

He placed the stopper back on the decanter and grabbed the glass, taking a sip before he walked back around and sat down on the couch to wait for you to join him.

You were pulled from your slumber by a gentle caressing against your cheek. Though you were awake, you couldn’t open your eyes. A soft voice spoke to you, piercing the silence. “Follow the sound of my voice,” it whispered. “Find me.”

You awoke with a start as thunder crashed overhead, shaking the house. You glanced next to you, finding your husband fast asleep next to you. As you were about to sink back down into the bed, your eyes caught sight of a trail of wet footprints on the floor leading from the doors to the balcony to the bathroom. You pulled the sheets back, careful not to wake your husband until you were absolutely certain it was necessary. You slipped on your slippers, grabbing your robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on over your naked form.

Once at the bathroom door, you peered into the dark room, finding a dark blob on the tile floor. Approaching it cautiously, you knelt down and touched it. It was wet. You grabbed it and discovered it was a wet jacket. You found more wet clothes lying on the floor leading to the closet.

Standing up, you walked over, stepping into the closet where the light turned on. Save for the clothes, your closet was empty. You exited the room, the light shutting off as you headed back into the bedroom. You walked over to the double doors and checked the knob. It was locked. ‘How the hell did someone get in?’ you wondered as you turned and your eyes darted towards the bedroom door which was open a crack. You were certain Seonghwa had closed that before you went to bed.

You approached it cautiously, glancing at your sleeping husband. You contemplated waking him but you were a strong woman and capable of holding her own. You opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door behind you.

Your feet carried you down the hall, steps soft as you passed open doors and peered into the rooms beyond, finding them all empty. You went down the stairs to the next floor and followed the path of open doors until you reached the main floor.

As you reached the bottom landing, you heard soft music drifting through the house. You walked through the foyer, jumping slightly when lightning flashed through the windows and thunder rumbled the house. The rain had picked up and was now pouring. Your feet carried you closer and closer to the source of the music, following the same path you had earlier after your bath.

The door to the parlor was left ajar and you pushed it open further, peering into the room. Your eyes landed on a figure standing by the fireplace. He wore Seonghwa’s clothes but it was not your husband. He had caramel colored hair that was longer in the back, metal rings and studs decorated his ear, reflecting the dancing light of a fire that crackled in the fireplace. His face was obscured to you, turned towards the fire, one of the crystal glasses from the liquor cabinet in his hand, its contents an amber liquid that glowed in the firelight.

You entered the room slowly, keeping your eyes on the figure. Once you were inside, the figure’s head turned and your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping you. The hair was different but here was no mistaking that face. Those piercing eyes. The door behind you shut on its own and you backed against it in fear, staring as the figure stalked around the couch slowly, making their way towards you.

“It can’t be,” you whispered. “You can’t be here.”

The figure approached, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass, setting it on a table before he approached you. “Yet, here I am, darling,” he answered, his voice just the same as you remembered.

It had been nearly four years since you’d seen him last but there was no mistaking it.

Hongjoong had returned.

“We b-banished you,” you protested weakly as he neared you, placing his hands on either side of your head against the door, caging you in. “You’re supposed to be in hell,” you added as he stared down at you. “Am I?” he asked softly. “And what if this is a dream?” he asked softly.

One of his hands moved, taking note of the way you flinched. When he touched you, it was soft and gentle. He brushed his thumb over your exposed collar, swiping upwards and catching the collar of your robe, pulling it down past your shoulder. His eyes fell on the bite mark in your skin, a scar from Seonghwa when he was still a vampire.

“Is it a dream?” you asked softly. Hongjoong raised his eyes to meet your gaze. “Do you want it to be?” he asked, tilting his head as his hand moved, fingers skimming over the mark to your neck. You felt his fingertips curl around the back of your neck. “Do you want to dream about me?” he whispered, leaning in closer as he pressed himself against you, pressing you against the wooden door.

You turned your head away as he leaned in closer. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “If I’m supposed to be in hell, then there’s no way I can be here, right?” he asked into your ear, hand smoothing down your neck, over the silk of your robe.

“So it has to be a dream, right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down over your chest, cupping your breast through the silk, feeling your naked body underneath. Your body reacted to his touch more than it should have, further confirming this was indeed a dream but if that was the case, why were you dreaming about Hongjoong of all people? Especially after four years.

“Do you want to wake up?” he asked in your ear as he parted your legs with his knee, pressing his thigh between yours. You could feel yourself growing wetting and wetter as he massaged your breast, lips skimming over your skin. “You could wake up, forget this ever happened and go back to sleep and the dream would be over,” he said softly, tongue slipping out.

You let out a soft groan as he licked up the side of your neck. “Or you can just enjoy the moment and give yourself to me. It’s only a dream,” he said with a hint of amusement. “What’s the worst that could happen?” You melted under his touch as his hand moved to your neck. “So what will it be?” he asked, lips ghosting over yours. “Wake up or enjoy it?”

“P-please,” you whimpered. “Do you want to wake up?” Hongjoong asked, fingers squeezing your throat gently. You shook your head, letting out a whimper as his eyes darkened. “Say it,” he urged. “Out loud.” You licked your lips, clearing your throat before speaking. “I-I don’t want to wake up yet.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh before taking your lips in a searing kiss, tongue immediately forcing inside your mouth. You gasped against his lips as his hands moved down to your thighs. He pulled back only slightly and quickly picked you up, pressing your back against the door as he kissed down your neck.

Without a word, he carried you over to the couch and sat down, setting you on his lap. He immediately pulled you back into a kiss one hand around your throat as the other worked to undo the knot of your robe. Once undone, Hongjoong pushed the material aside, exposing your skin to him.

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collar, leaning you back as his lips traveled down between the valley of your breasts. He took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he teased with light flicks and soft suckles.

Your head fell back, a moan leaving your lips as his hand moved to cup your other breast, gently massaging and kneading the soft flesh. He held you in place with one hand on your back. He let your nipple fall from his mouth, kissing back up to the junction of your neck and shoulder, nipping at the skin.

He carefully laid you down on the couch, ripping the robe from your body and tossing it aside as he hovered over you. Your thighs parted, allowing him to settle between them, putting his weight on you. “This feels so wrong,” you murmured as he kissed your skin, moving down your chest and stomach, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“It’s just a dream,” he reminded you. “You can’t control what you dream about.”

Your legs spread as he drew level with your cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You moaned out, hands moving to his hair as his tongue made contact with your throbbing clit, lewd wet sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked, the cool steel ball of his piercing making your toes curl.

You writhed under him as he flicked his tongue against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your arousal coated his lips as he ate you out like a man dying of starvation. Your thighs tried to close around his head but he refused, holding them open as he flattened his tongue against you. A cry escaped your lips as you came on his tongue.

Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he kissed back up your body, meeting your lips in a messy, rushed kiss. “On your knees, kitten,” he breathed out as he sat down on the couch, taking your hand and pulling you up into a sitting position. He undid his pants, pushing them down his hips and thighs and freeing his cock. You knelt beside him on the couch, waiting for his permission to touch him.

He pulled the shirt up and gestured for you to get started. You immediately took his cock in your hands, making him hiss. Leaning over, you let a drop of spit fall from your mouth, spreading it with your hand as you worked it up and down his shaft. Hongjoong reached up, grabbing the back of your neck. You looked up, meeting his gaze.

Without being prompted, you leaned over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth. Hongjoong’s head fell back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips as your head sank down on him. He kept his hand on the back of your neck, caressing gently as you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck that’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that, kitten.” You pulled back, sucking as you did before relaxing your jaw and starting to bob your head, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time, making a lewd wet gagging sound. Hongjoong’s hand moved up to the back of your head and pushed your head down gently, making you take more and more of him.

“Relax,” he whispered when his cock hit the back of your throat. “Just relax and let me in.”

You did as he asked, relaxing your throat and choking when you felt his cock slip into your throat. He allowed you to pull back but then pushed you back down. He guided your head, his hips starting to chase the feeling, thrusting into your mouth. “That’s it,” he growled. “Relax that jaw and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Wet gags bounced off the walls as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. Drool spilled from your lips and down his shaft but he didn’t care as he continued to thrust into your mouth harder and harder, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, making you gag and choke.

He forced your head down, holding it there as he tried to hold back his orgasm. After a few moments of you gagging against him, he finally released you, letting you sit up, gasping for air as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Come here,” he said softly, taking your hand and guiding you to sit over him. He pushed your hips down, reaching between your bodies to guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance.

You sat down, sinking on his cock with a moan as he stretched your walls. Each inch felt like it took forever and when he was finally full inside you, your body was shaking. “Good girl,” Hongjoong murmured as he grabbed your hips, guiding your movements. You let out another moan as you lifted, his cock sliding out of you before sinking back down, setting a steady pace, bouncing on him at your own speed.

Hongjoong’s hands were everywhere, your hips, your chest, your ass, your neck. He couldn’t stop touching you. “Come on,” he urged, grabbing your ass. “I know you can go faster than that.” You moved faster, bouncing harder on his cock, your fingers digging into the couch cushion behind him. “That’s it,” Hongjoong groaned, his cock throbbing inside you.

“M’close,” you gasped over the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “Good,” Hongjoong growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. “Keep going until you’ve cum all over this cock like the filthy fucking slut I know you are,” he growled, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out. “Come on, you dirty fucking whore. Cum for me. Cum on my cock while your husband sleeps upstairs.”

Seonghwa woke with a start, rain pounding against the roof and windows. ‘Just the storm,’ he told himself as he settled back against the bed. Instinctively, he reached for you but found your side of the bed empty. He raised his head and looked around. He expected to see light seeping from under the bathroom door but the door was open and it was dark.

He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table where the red digital numbers informed him it was well past three in the morning. Seonghwa sat up and pulled back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Now that he was up, he could see wet footprints on the wooden floor. He followed them back to the source and got up to inspect.

The bathroom was empty save for some wet clothes that he knew didn’t belong to him or you. There was an intruder in the house. He walked back to the door as lightning flashed, throwing the room into brightness before shadow overtook it again. Opening the cracked door, he peered out into the hallway. He walked down the corridor, inspecting the doors that had been left open but found no trace of you or an intruder in each one, shutting them as he went.

On the second floor, he found the same thing, more open doors yet still no trace of you or the intruder.

On the main floor, he inspected the kitchen and dining room but nothing seemed out of place. As he passed through the kitchen, he stopped at the counter, grabbing a knife from the knife block and continued on. As he entered one of the front halls, light spilled out of a room onto the floor.

He approached slowly, his grip on the knife tightening. He pushed the door open and found the room empty. There was a used crystal glass and a fire dancing in the fireplace. He looked around and found no one but as he rounded the couch, he found your silk robe lying on the floor. He picked it up and looked around once more.

There was a giggle behind him and the parlor door slammed shut. He set your robe down on the back of the couch and walked to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, tugging at the knob roughly but it still didn’t give. He hit the butt of the knife against the wood. “Open the door!” he yelled. “Let me out!”

He tried several more times to wrench the door open to no avail before he let go and stepped back, looking around the room. He headed over to the window and peered out into the rain where he saw a dark figure standing in front of the house in the middle of the circle drive. He squinted, trying to make out if it was you or not. Lightning flashed and lit up the area momentarily.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as the figure he saw shifted for a split second from a human into a hulking monstrous half man, half goat-like form. He nearly fell back but as soon as it happened, the figure was gone. He glanced around the yard but saw nothing else. He heard the door click and spun around to find the door cracked open.

He rushed over and yanked the door open, looking into the hall before he exited the room, following the hallway back to the entrance hall. He heard footsteps running on the balcony above and he darted for the stairs, running up. As he reached the second floor landing, he heard footsteps racing up the steps to the third floor.

He followed them, reaching the landing at the end of the hall opposite his and your shared bedroom. The door which he had left open was now shut. He approached slowly, keeping an eye out for any movement. As he reached the door, he took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, his grip on the knife handle in his hand tightening as he turned the knob.

The latch clicked and he carefully pushed the door open, the soft squeak breaking the silence. Seonghwa peered into the room, finding it empty, save for your figure on the bed. Seonghwa entered the room and shut the door quickly, locking it. He swept the whole room, from top to bottom, even checking the bathroom and closet but found no sign of an intruder.

As he exited the bathroom and moved around to his side of the bed, he sat down, setting the knife on his bedside table. He would remind himself to return it to the kitchen in the morning before you woke. He turned to look at you, peacefully asleep. As he was about to pull his feet up into the bed, there was a creak in the floor. Seonghwa felt his heart skip a beat. It came from directly under the bed.

Frozen in terror, Seonghwa was unable to move. He glanced at you, contemplating waking you up. As he moved his hand over the sheets to try and gently rouse you, he felt a strong pair of hands close around his ankles and tug, knocking him from the bed.

He let out a scream as he tried to free himself, kicking and trying to grab anything as whatever it was under the bed tried to drag him under. Seonghwa kicked himself free and scrambled away from the bed, crawling to the wall and sat gasping with his back against the wall. He could now see under the bed but there was nothing there. Lightning flashed again, the light gleaming off the blade of the kitchen knife.

Seonghwa glanced around before deciding to go for it. As he tried to get up, a figure appeared, rushing him and slamming him against the wall, a hand closing around his throat. Seonghwa cried out in pain and looked down at the figure, a wave of fear passing over him as he looked into the familiar face of the demon who had made his life a living hell centuries ago.

“It’s not possible!” Seonghwa choked out, struggling to free himself. “You’re supposed to be in hell!” Hongjoong smirked up at him, fingers tightening around Seonghwa’s throat. “Surprise,” he said in a dangerously low voice. “I’m back!”

Seonghwa kicked out, trying to free himself. Hongjoong tossed him aside easily and Seonghwa slid across the floor, his back hitting the foot of the bed. Hongjoong calmly followed as Seonghwa tried to crawl away but the demon was quicker, stepping over him and kneeling down, grabbing Seonghwa by the hair. Seonghwa let out a strangled cry as Hongjoong held the knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right here,” Hongjoong threatened. “It would be so easy. Kill you, steal your wife, turn her into my breeding bitch, and then eventually kill her,” he continued. “But I’m not going to do that.” Hongjoong threw the knife, the blade embedding into the wall by the door. He stood up, keeping a firm grip on Seonghwa’s hair and dragged him across the floor to a chair in the corner near the balcony doors. Hongjoong pulled him up, forcing him into the chair.

Seonghwa tried to get up but Hongjoong pushed him back down, grabbing one of the nearby curtains and ripped it down from the rod. He placed a foot on Seonghwa’s chest and kept him seated while he ripped the curtain into long pieces. One by one, he tied Seonghwa’s wrists and ankles to the chair. He ripped another piece from the curtain, tearing that in half. Part of it he wadded up and shoved into Seonghwa’s mouth before wrapping the other piece around his head, covering his mouth and tying it.

“There,” Hongjoong said as he stood back and admired his handiwork. “Now you’ll sit there and shut up.” Seonghwa tried to break free of his bonds but was unable to do so. Hongjoong turned, running his fingers through his hair. He approached the bed where you lay sleeping. Seonghwa screamed against his gag, thrashing violently. Hongjoong looked at him from beside you.

“Calm down or I’ll slit her throat right now,” Hongjoong ordered. Seonghwa stopped, falling silent. He watched as Hongjoong pulled back the sheets covering you, exposing your naked body. Seonghwa blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes. “Such a lucky man,” Hongjoong said, mocking Seonghwa’s earlier sentiments.

Seonghwa turned his head as Hongjoong stripped himself and climbed onto the bed. He wanted to scream, yell, fight, do something but he knew if he did, Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. He watched in horror as the demon repositioned your body. “You deserve a better view,” Hongjoong said, a smirk forming on his face. He hovered over you and Seonghwa pulled at his binds as Hongjoong’s hands ran over your body, skimming over your chest and up to your neck.

How desperately Seonghwa wanted to scream, threaten Hongjoong to not touch you. To get away from you. He was rendered helpless. Speechless. Useless. He watched as your body reacted but you stayed asleep. “Don’t worry about consent,” Hongjoong said, glancing over at Seonghwa. “She gave it to me earlier in the parlor.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he realized that he hadn’t been seeing things. You had been in the parlor. That’s why your robe was down there. “Just enjoy the show,” Hongjoong said before tearing his gaze away and Seonghwa could only watch helplessly as the demon kissed down your body, spreading your legs. “She’s already so wet,” Hongjoong groaned. He sat up, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and dragging your sleeping body down the bed towards him.

Seonghwa twisted against his bonds as Hongjoong took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance and pushing into you. The gasp and moan you let out made Seonghwa’s stomach churn and sink. It was the same sound you made when he sank into you for the first time.

Hongjoong let out a groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” he rasped. “This is what you get every night?” he asked, looking over to where Seonghwa sat, bound and gagged. “Lucky man, indeed.”

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong’s hand gripped your hips, raising them up to rest your ass against his thighs as he thrust shallowly into you. Seonghwa blinked away the tears, turning to look away from the scene unfolding on his own bed in his own home. “If you don’t watch, I will force you and you really don’t want that,” Hongjoong growled.

Seonghwa took several deep breaths before forcing himself to look. “I should have done this before,” Hongjoong said as he kept the same steady pace, thrusting into you, small whimpers and moans leaving your lips. “Should have fucked your precious Blossom on that altar right in front of you. Impregnated her and sent her on her way. Let her raise my child alone.”

Seonghwa felt his blood boil as Hongjoong spoke. “Maybe I’ll do that now. Impregnate your wife and make you raise my child. Would you like that? You want a family so bad, right?” Hongjoong asked with a laugh. You let out a louder moan. Hongjoong pulled out of you, gently rolling you onto your stomach. He grabbed your hips, tucking a pillow under it before sinking back into you.

“Is this how you fuck her?” he asked Seonghwa who could no longer hold back the tears. “You bend her over like this and fuck her until you fill her up? She likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he asked. Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong and if looks could kill, Hongjoong would probably be dead.

He let out another laugh, picking up the pace as he pounded into you. Wanton moans left your lips as his cock pistoned in and out of your abused hole. “Bet she likes it when you stuff her full of cum,” Hongjoong grunted as he placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing your head down into the linens. “Likes it when you empty your balls into her. Do you talk to her while you do it? Tell her how you’re gonna fill her up and put a baby in her?” Hongjoong asked, his hips slamming into you now.

“Do you cum multiple times? Fill her up as much as possible? Until it leaks out of her and spills down the inside of her thighs? Do you hold her down and tell her to take all of it?” Seonghwa blinked, tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the torn curtain that was his makeshift gag.

“I wonder why she isn’t pregnant yet,” Hongjoong mused as he continued to thrust into you, holding you down as his hips bruised your ass with each forceful thrust. “Maybe you’re not as fertile as you once were,” he continued. “Maybe you need my sperm to start a family.”

Seonghwa twisted in the chair as Hongjoong continued. Your moans grew in pitch as Hongjoong pounded into you. His hand disappeared under your head and pulled you up out of the sheets. “Let him hear you, blossom,” Hongjoong said breathlessly in your ear. Seonghwa struggled against the bonds. “Let him hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Without the sheets to muffle you, moans and screams of pleasure left your lips. “That’s right,” Hongjoong growled as he slammed into you. “I’m making you feel this good. Not him. Has he ever made it feel this good?” Seonghwa thrashed against his bonds. “Oh, I think I’m gonna cum,” Hongjoong groaned into your ear. “You want it inside you, kitten? Want me to fill you up just like he does?”

You moaned loudly as Hongjoong’s hips never faltered. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear. “Cum for me. Show him what you look like when you cum on another man’s cock.”

Seonghwa watched through tears as your body shook, your orgasm washing over you, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips before your body went limp. Hongjoong kept a tight hold on you, his hips now chasing his own high. Seonghwa watched defeatedly as Hongjoong thrust into you a few more times before letting out a low moan, hips stilling as he came, filling you and painting your walls in his release.

His tears hadn’t stopped as Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts, pushing his cum deeper inside you before he pulled out, letting your limp body fall onto the bed, your slumber never once breaking. Hongjoong stumbled off the bed, making his way over to where Seonghwa sat. He crouched down, looking up at Seonghwa as his head hung in defeat, tears still spilling from him.

Hongjoong stood up and grabbed Seonghwa by the hair, pulling his head back to look up at him. “It’s not that bad,” Hongjoong said as he untied the gag and pulled the wet strip of curtain from his face. Seonghwa spat out the wadded up piece of cloth and glared up at the demon. “You’re fucking despicable,” he snapped. “Truly and utterly disgusting.”

Hongjoong smirked as he leaned down, bringing his face level with Seonghwa’s. “Am I?” he asked. He glanced down. “If I’m disgusting, what does that make you?” he asked, his hand moving over the erection in Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa tried to squirm away from the demon. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat. Hongjoong’s grip on his hair tightened. “Behave,” the demon hissed.

Seonghwa stopped fighting and went rigid as Hongjoong’s hand ghosted over his hard cock. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Hongjoong asked, looking into Seonghwa’s eyes. “Watching me fuck your wife. You really liked it,” he said, his hand slipping into Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa squirmed under him as Hongjoong’s hand gripped him over his underwear.

“Do you want me to relieve you or do you want her to do it?” Hongjoong asked. “Actually,” the demon said. He let go of Seonghwa and moved to the bed, leaning over to whisper something in your ear. Seonghwa watched as you started to stir, rolling onto your side and crawling to the edge of the bed. Hongjoong helped you off the bed and guided you over to where Seonghwa sat.

“On your knees, kitten,” Hongjoong instructed. You did as he said almost as if you were in a trance. “Here, let’s get this out of the way,” Hongjoong said, grabbing the waistband of Seonghwa’s pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, watching as Seonghwa’s erection sprang free.

“Oh, there’s more to you than meets the eye,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle as he eyed Seonghwa. Tearing his gaze away and knelt behind you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “That looks uncomfortable,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “We should relieve him. Open your mouth, kitten.” Seonghwa looked away as you did so. Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your head towards Seonghwa’s cock.

Seonghwa let out a strangled moan as he felt your mouth envelope his cock. Hongjoong kept a firm hold on your head, pushing you down on Seonghwa’s cock. “Open your throat,” Hongjoong instructed. “Just like you did for me. Let him in, baby.” Seonghwa glared at the demon. “Don’t you fucking call her that,” he growled, an involuntary moan leaving his lips as his cock slid into your throat.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong asked. He guided your head, fucking Seonghwa’s cock with your mouth. “Keep going, sweetheart. He likes it. He really likes it,” he continued, smirking at Seonghwa’s reaction. “F-fuck,” Seonghwa cursed, head falling back against the chair.

“More?” Hongjoong asked. Without waiting for his answer, Hongjoong forced your head to move faster. Seonghwa groaned, hips bucking up into your face. Hongjoong held your head still. “Go ahead,” Hongjoong said. “Fuck her face. She loved it when I did that.” Seonghwa shook his head. “No,” he said breathlessly. “Do it,” Hongjoong urged. Seonghwa refused again, shaking his head. “No. I won’t.”

The demon’s brow furrowed as he pushed your head down, forcing Seonghwa’s cock into your throat. “Either you fuck her mouth or I’ll take over and make you cum myself.” Seonghwa groaned and reluctantly did as he said, hips bucking up into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Hongjoong held your head in place as Seonghwa chased his own high, letting out strained moans and whimpers until he let out a strangled groan. Hongjoong pushed your head down, Seonghwa cock sliding into your throat as he came, his cock twitching, his release spilling down your throat.

Hongjoong held you still as Seonghwa’s hips bucked weakly until he fell limp. Only then did Hongjoong pull you back, muttering praise in your ear as you coughed and gasped. He guided you back to the bed before moving to pick up the clothes he’d taken from the closet. Once he was dressed he walked over to where Seonghwa sat and slowly undid his bonds.

“Consider us even,” Hongjoong said as he dropped the torn bits of curtain to the floor. He walked over to the balcony door, glancing out into the rain. He could see glowing red eyes out in the trees and knew the hounds had found him. “One last thing,” he said over his shoulder as he undid the latch on the doors and turned the knob, opening one, the sound of rain becoming louder.

“Take care of your family.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 hour ago

Text

A Man Called Danger 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can't be denied.

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: I saw a photoshoot and lost my mind.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sigh and set the phone down, tilting your head back as you close your eyes. Exasperation, frustration, helplessness.

This is why you never had kids of your own. Your own teenage years were tough enough. Well, life has continued to shout that lesson in your face; things don’t always turn out how you expect. Or how you want.

Let her make her mistakes, you tell yourself. No, no, you can be passive in your own life but you took on this responsibility. You can’t just wait and see how it turns out. Not like your mother did. She only got lucky you didn’t end up on a corner or like her.

You take a deep breath and run your hands over your face. Your mother taught you many lessons without meaning too. Men, kids, all that domestic stuff is just a trap. You’re better off without having to figure out the mistakes of others.

That’s why you did this right? Because you want your sister to learn the same thing, to avoid the consequences of youth and short-sightedness. To escape that family curse that keeps you so cautious.

You grab your jacket from the front door. She’s nineteen. Nineteen. An adult. You’re not her mother. No, but you won’t let it happen. Not to her. Not to that baby you spent your nights bottle-feeding as your mother spent her stipend at the bar or drove around with Robbie from down the street.

It’s underhanded. Not what you should do. Not respectful at all but after the last time, you couldn’t let it go. You open the app on your phone. The dot that is your sister’s phone pings in the map. You zoom in and squint as you stand on the doormat. Really?

You lock the front door and come down the front steps. The deep blue evening is starless as only the yellow street lights offer clarity. Oh, everything is clear. The apple is not falling very far.

You drop your phone in the cup holder and turn the engine. The grumpy old Honda chugs to life and the stick cranks loudly as you put it in reverse. You don’t have much but you have the one thing you always craved; stability. You manage with what you have.

You ease your foot off the pedal as you catch yourself speeding down the forty zone. You idle at the sign before turning onto the next street. You make a zigzag onto the main road. Your nape itches with impatience. How the hell did she get all the way out there, anyway?

You grip the wheel and snarl at the windshield. You’re not a mother. You don’t have a maternal bone in your body. You were raised to be wary. By the time your sister came around, your mother wasn’t present enough to make much of an effort or impact. You suppose neglect can be just as lingering as resent.

You keep one hand on the wheel as you chew your thumb. For all your attempts to avoid this fate, you find yourself where you didn’t want to be. Maybe not technically or even legally, but you’re stuck cleaning up this mess.

You pull up to the bar at last. Take a breath. You are not an angry person. Not like your father. Yes, the surge comes from time to time but you control it. You repress it until it’s only a flicker in your stomach.

You get out and lock your phone. You pocket your keys as you approach the door. Nearly wenty years since you’ve been in a bar, never of your own volition. You stare up at the marque.

You were the same age as your sister then. The place was glowing and hazy. You entered to the clink of bottle and the buzz of the old juke box. Darts pounded into the bullseye and cues clacked on solids and stripes. Your mother was there hanging off a greasy man in flannel. She was too drunk to answer your question as you held her child on your hip.

“Mom, where’s the money?”

It fades away with the voice from your left. The man stands with arms crossed, “ma’am, you can go in. I don’t needa see ID.”

You shake your head and make yourself enter. Your reluctance slows you along with the overwhelming wall of noise. Voices all around, music, glass meeting each other and tabletops, laughter, coughing, and snarling. The dim is lit only by the bulbs beneath the black shades, hanging from the ceiling. You squint to see through the glazed din.

This isn’t your place. This is never what you would do for fun. Drinking, talking to strange men, spending what free time you have rotting away in this pit.

You hear a familiar octave. Eva trills with laughter. Not that sardonic snort she gives you when you try to offer her some sense, no, that tinkling noise she uses when she wants something. It’s not a surprise, there aren’t too many reasons for a girl her age to be here.

You find her along the bar. She sits sideways on a stool, one leg draped over the other. She’s everything you’re not old. Young, slim, and tall. You never grew much after eighth grade and you can’t do anything to stop time from its work.

You cross the bar as the man next to her chortles and winks at her. His hand is on her stool, just by her hip. He looks about your age. You grit your teeth.

You’re not brave or bold. You learned to survive by staying out of the way but you can’t just walk away from this. You know what older men want from women half their age.

You clear your throat as you come up next to them. Eva ignores you as the man sends you a sneer, “can I help you?”

You cross your arms. You’re not good at confrontation. Not with strangers and definitely not with men.

“Eva,” you focus on your sister, “I’ve been waiting for you--”

“Don’t pay attention to her,” she flutters her fingers.

“Eva. You said you’d be home at eight--”

“Ugh, you’re not my mother, okay? We both know where she is so just go away,” she snarls. She’s drunk. When she’s a few deep, she gets mean.

“She’s grown,” the man insists.

“She’s my sister, I’m talking to her,” you turn so your back is to him and you’re almost between them. “Eva, I got that job lined up for you--”

“She said fuck off,” the man growls. You tune him out.

“It’s good. You can take the year to build the reference then apply to the community college--”

“You’re embarrassing me,” she hisses.

“Would you get out of here?” The man pushes you so hard you stumble. You hit a table and gasp as the edge jams against your ribs. The people sat their grumble at you for spilling their drinks.

“Johnny!” Eva cries out. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You told her to get off,” he sneers.

“Yeah, but you can’t just do that,” she whines.

You steady yourself and apologise to the patrons at the table. You hug your middle and swallow down the pain. You swore you would never be pushed around by another man.

You turn and march up to the creep. “You feel big picking on women? Huh? You feel like a man going after teenagers? Cause a woman your own age wouldn’t put up with you?”

Eva tugs on your arm and says your name, “please, don’t. What are you doing?”

“Do it again,” you goad. The words come out naturally.

You’re shocked by yourself but your reticence is dulled by that hereditary spark. That flame you’ve been tamping out for decades. Not like him. You are not him.

“Pfft, don’t be a bitch. You already cockblocked me.”

“No, you want to pick on me, pick on me.” You spit.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you here?” Eva snivels.

‘Why are you here?’ Your mother drunkenly slurs. ‘I’m just having some funnnnnn.’

You stare at her. Eva wriggles and cries on your hip. You hush her, trying to comfort her. She’s hungry. You don’t have anything left in the can.

‘Mom, that money was for her. Mom, where is it? Give it back.’

She chuckles and caresses the head of the man she sits on, “go talk to Chuck at the bar, he might give you a refund.’

Your name draws you out of the past. Eva shakes you as you snarl at the man. Your hands ball to fists.

“There a problem?” A gravelly timbre undercuts your rage.

Eva babbles again.

“Walker,” footsteps stomp closer and Eva pulls you out of the way.

You watch as a dark-haired man pulls the blond from atop the stool. He has him by the scruff, “what’d I tell you about fighting?” He glances at you then the foamy spill leaking onto the floor from the table as a server tries to sop it up. “You hitting women in my joint?”

You quake with anger. This man thinks he’s a saviour. You don’t need him to defend you. In here, they’re all the same.

“You better not come back,” the brunette growls and hurls the blond onto the floor. “This is the last time I’m tossing your ass out.”

You watch the man’s shoulders strain the leather of his jacket. He’s broad, taller than you, like most, and about your age. He faces you. His hair is pushed back, the tails winging out behind his nape, his beard is thick and laced with silver, and he wears a golden medallion around his neck. His blue eyes scour you and Eva.

“You alright?” He asks with a stitch in his forehead.

“Just fine. Leaving,” you say as you twist your hand around to grab Eva’s arm instead.

“I don’t put up with that in here. I saw that man up on your daughter and I shoulda stopped it earlier,” he intones.

You scoff.

“Look, you can have a drink on the house--”

“I don’t drink,” you show your palm. “Excuse me.”

You step around him and drag your sister with him. Under the ripple of anger, is fear. These men are dangerous. You forgot that at some point. Don’t ever forget that. You just wish Eva could see the same.

You take her to the car as she stumbles in her heels. You open the passenger door and let her go. She gets in and you resist the urge to comment on her outfit. She can wear short skirts and crop tops, she’s an adult, but it’s too cold to not have a sweater.

You go around and get in the driver seat. You sit there and stare at the wheel. You close your eyes and inhale.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Eva,” you snip and open your eyes. You brace the wheel as you look at her. “You saw what that man did. I’m a woman with no value to him, so when he loses interest, what do you think happens to you?”

She mopes and looks at her lap. She twirls her thumbs round each other and sniffles. “I was only having fun.”

“You can’t find someone your own age? Or maybe a hobby. Try the library,” you run your hands over your forehead. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to act like your mother, I want to be your sister. I want you to do better.” You slap your hands down on your legs. “You can make your decisions however you like but I just want you to think before you do.”

“I’m sorry--”

“You’re sorry. Again. You keep doing it,” you relent and slacken against the seat. “You’re not a kid. We both have to accept that.”

You jam the keys in the ignition and turn. You sit up and peer around the lot. Your eyes snag on the figure standing in the glare of the marquee. That man in leather with the medallion. He watches calmly.

You lean on the gas and steer around the lot. As you come closer to the bar, he waves with two fingers and winks. You frown and put your attention ahead of you. You just want to go home and go to bed.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker au #series #a man called danger #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #avengers #au

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wonyqt · 19 hours ago

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CINDY LOU WHO

summary jungkook breaks your heart, confessing he’s in love with someone else. lost in heartbreak, you drown yourself in pain at a party—only to come face to face with the girl who replaced you.

pairing ex bf jk x ex gf (f) reader

you’re sitting in jungkook’s car, the hum of the engine the only sound between you two. the streets are quiet, the night air cool and still. it’s just the two of you, but something feels off. the silence is heavy, like a storm brewing. you’ve been noticing the distance between you lately—his quiet moments, his lack of touch, the way he barely looks at you anymore. but you refuse to believe it. you tell yourself it’s just a phase. that he’ll come around.

but then, jungkook speaks, and everything you thought you knew shatters.

“i think we should break up,” he says, his voice so calm, so detached, like he’s talking about the weather. the words don’t even hit you right away. it’s like your brain can’t process them, and for a split second, you think you might have misheard him.

you blink at him, trying to understand, trying to make sense of the words that don’t seem to belong in your world. “what? jungkook, no… no..” your voice cracks, betraying the confusion you feel, but you can’t hide the panic rising in your chest.

he doesn’t look at you. he just stares ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “i’m sorry, y/n. i think it’s time.”

“what? no, jungkook, please, what are you talking about? we’ve been good, we’ve been fine—”

he finally looks at you, and the look in his eyes cuts through you, deeper than any words could. “i don’t feel the same anymore,” he says quietly, his gaze full of something you can’t quite name. maybe guilt, maybe something else. but whatever it is, it’s enough to make your heart sink.

your chest tightens. “what do you mean you don’t feel the same? we’re… we’re okay, aren’t we? we’re happy, right?”

he sighs, leaning back in his seat as if the weight of this moment is wearing on him. “i care about you, y/n. i really do. but… i’m not in love with you anymore.”

you can’t breathe. it feels like the air has been knocked out of your lungs, like the earth has shifted beneath your feet. “what? no. jungkook, no, you can’t—this doesn’t make sense. we were happy. i thought we were happy.”

he shakes his head, his voice lower now, almost apologetic. “i know. i thought so too. but things change.”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this sudden rupture in everything you thought you knew. “things change? no jungkook, this doesn’t… this isn’t right. we-”

“i met someone else,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, like it’s the hardest thing for him to admit. “i met someone, and… i’ve fallen in love with her.”

it feels like you’ve been hit by a wave. “who? who is she? jungkook, who is she?” your voice is rising now, desperation slipping into your words, but the pain cuts too deep. you don’t want to hear this.

his eyes flick to yours, guilt written all over his face. “her name’s jiu,” he says, the words barely audible. “i met her and… it just happened. i never meant for it to, but i love her now.”

the silence that follows is suffocating. you feel the tears welling up, but you don’t let them fall. you can’t. not like this. “so… that’s it? you’re just leaving me for her? after everything we’ve been through?”

he looks away, unable to meet your gaze. “i didn’t want to hurt you, y/n. i really didn’t. but i can’t lie anymore. i’m in love with her.”

your chest tightens, your hands gripping your seat. “so… what was i? a mistake? a placeholder until you found someone better?”

he flinches, but you don’t care. “no, that’s not it. i never wanted to hurt you, i swear.”

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “well, you did. you’re breaking my heart, jungkook. how could you just—how could you just throw everything away?”

he looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. he just stares at you, his face filled with sadness that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he finally says, but the words feel hollow. “i never wanted this.”

you can’t take it anymore. you open the car door, not caring that it’s cold outside. you step out, the wind hitting your face like a slap. you don’t care. you just need to get away from him.

as you walk away, you hear him call your name softly, but you don’t look back. you can’t.

the pounding bass of the music fills the air as you step into the party, but the noise seems far away, muffled like you’re in a bubble. miya’s hand grips your wrist, practically dragging you into the living room, the flashing lights casting sharp shadows on the walls. her eyes are full of concern, but she’s trying to keep things light, trying to pull you out of the hole you’ve been sinking into since jungkook left you. “y/n, you need this,” she insists, pulling you toward a group of people laughing and dancing. “come on, just have fun tonight. forget about him.”

but how could you? how could you forget about the boy who just shattered everything? the boy who told you he wasn’t in love with you anymore. you just want to scream, but instead, you let miya guide you to the drinks. you sip at the cup she hands you, feeling the burn slide down your throat, but it doesn’t do anything. it doesn’t numb the pain.

you don’t know how long you’re there, walking around like a ghost, trying to act like you belong in this chaotic scene. the music, the people, everything feels wrong. and then you see him. jungkook. he’s standing by the wall, talking with his friends, but the sight of him makes your heart stop. he’s with her. jiu. the girl he left you for.

the sight of them together, standing so close, talking so easily, makes your stomach twist in knots. you hate this. you hate that he moved on so easily. that he found someone else. someone like her.

you try to focus on the music, on the people, on anything but the storm of emotions crashing through your chest. miya drags you into the living room again, but every laugh, every dance move, every word feels like a mockery. you’re barely holding it together. you can’t stop thinking about jungkook—his face, the way he looked at you when he broke your heart. everything.

“y/n, seriously, you’ve gotta let go for tonight,” miya says, catching your gaze. she’s doing her best to keep things light, but you see the concern in her eyes. “you’ll feel better, I promise.”

you nod, half-heartedly, and follow her as she drags you around, trying to get you to talk to people or even join the dancing. you try, you really do, but every moment just feels like you’re wearing a mask, and the real you—hurt, lost, broken—keeps clawing to get out.

“i’m gonna grab a drink,” you mutter, needing to get away for a second. you make your way to the kitchen, away from the noise, away from the crowd. you let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself.

as you step into the kitchen, your heart stops.

there, leaning against the counter, is jungkook. alone.

you freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. you want to turn and leave, but something holds you in place. it’s like your body is moving on its own, and before you know it, you’re walking toward him. he looks up at the sound of your footsteps, his face softening for a split second before the guilt floods back into his expression.

“y/n,” he says quietly, like he wasn’t expecting to see you. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” you respond, your voice flat and cold, though it’s hard to hide the tremor of emotion underneath. “did you come here to watch me fall apart, jungkook?”

he looks pained, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “no… no, of course not. I didn’t expect you to show up tonight.”

“i didn’t either,” you mutter, swallowing thickly. you cross your arms, trying to keep the tremble in your hands from being noticed. “but here I am. so… are you just gonna stand there and pretend everything’s fine? that you didn’t just destroy everything between us?”

he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but no words come out. he closes it again, running a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “y/n… i didn’t want to hurt you. i just—”

“you just fell in love with her,” you cut him off, not able to hide the bitterness in your voice. “you just threw everything we had away for her. what makes her so special? what’s so different about her that made you leave me?”

jungkook’s eyes flicker to the floor, unable to meet your gaze. you hate seeing him like this—guilty, torn, like he knows how badly he hurt you but can’t take it back.

“i met jiu through jimin,” he finally admits, his voice quiet. “we became close, and… i don’t know, y/n. it just happened. i didn’t expect it to, but i fell in love with her. and i know this hurts you, but i’m not the same person i was with you. i’m not.”

you feel the weight of his words slam into you. the words you never thought you’d hear, the truth that cuts deeper than anything else he could say.

“so that’s it, then?” you ask softly, your voice breaking. “you just fell out of love with me? just like that? you just… stopped loving me?”

he’s quiet for a long moment, and then he nods, almost imperceptibly. “i loved you, y/n. i really did. but now… i love her.”

it feels like your chest is being torn open. you don’t know how to respond, how to hold it together when all you want to do is fall apart right in front of him. the boy you loved, the one you thought would be with you forever, is standing there, telling you he’s not in love with you anymore. and he’s in love with someone else.

you shake your head, trying to force back the tears, but they come anyway. “so that’s it?” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “you’re just done with me?”

jungkook looks at you, regret written all over his face, but it doesn’t matter. he can regret it all he wants, but it won’t change anything now. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly, his voice full of guilt. “i never meant to hurt you. but i’m in love with her. and i can’t lie about that.”

you stare at him for a long time, the reality of it sinking in, and then you take a shaky step back. “you know what? i don’t even want to hear it,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “just go. go be with her, jungkook. that’s what you want, right? you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

before he can say anything else, you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving him behind in the quiet kitchen. your mind is spinning, your heart aching, and all you want to do is escape from everything. escape from him, from the hurt, from the fact that your love for him is now nothing more than a painful memory.

the night blurs as you stumble through the party, the music vibrating under your skin. your head is spinning, your thoughts a chaotic mess of alcohol and raw emotions. you don’t know how many drinks you’ve had at this point, but you don’t care. the more you drink, the less the pain stings, even if only for a moment.

you find yourself in the hallway, the lights a little too bright, your steps a little too unsteady. you’re just looking for somewhere quiet, somewhere you can breathe without seeing their faces. without thinking about jungkook and jiu.

your hand lands on the bathroom door, and you push it open, desperate to find a reprieve. you don’t realize someone’s already inside until you step in, and you freeze.

there, at the sink, washing her hands, is jiu. she looks up at the sound of the door, and her eyes widen in surprise, but then she quickly wipes her hands and moves to step around you. “oh, sorry,” she says, her voice calm, like it’s nothing. “i’ll just—”

but you’re not thinking straight. you don’t care if you’re making a scene. you grab her arm before she can leave, your grip tighter than you mean it to be.

“are you… are you jiu?” you slur, trying to focus on her face but the room keeps spinning.

she blinks, confused, her brow furrowing. “yeah? do we know each other?”

you almost laugh at that, a bitter, dark sound escaping you. “yeah, we know each other,” you say, your voice shaking with the alcohol and the hurt. “you’re the girl jungkook left me for, right?”

the words hang in the air between you, and jiu’s face changes in an instant. the guilt is there, written all over her features, her eyes softening with sympathy. “oh,” she breathes, the apology already in her voice. “you must be y/n. look, I’m really sorry… i never meant for this to happen. i didn’t plan on falling in love with him. but i did. i fell in love with him while he was with you.”

you feel your stomach twist, a lump forming in your throat, but you swallow it down, forcing a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “don’t worry,” you say, your voice dripping with bitterness. “i get it now. i understand why he left me for you. you’re much more beautiful than me.”

her face falls, guilt overtaking her features, and you can see the sorrow in her eyes. “y/n, that’s not—”

“no, don’t apologize,” you snap, cutting her off. “you don’t need to feel bad. i can’t even blame you.” you take a shaky breath, your hand trembling as you let go of her arm. “it’s just… i can’t bear the fact that the boy who i love… is now in love with you.”

there’s silence between you two, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. jiu just stands there, looking at you like she wants to say something to make it better, but there’s nothing she can say. nothing that would make this easier.

“i’m sorry,” she says again, her voice barely above a whisper. but you don’t hear it. you can’t hear it.

you force yourself to take one last look at her, before turning and walking away, the weight of everything sinking deeper into your chest.

#kpop #jungkook ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts

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captainsamuelmorrigan · 21 hours ago

Text

Poolverine/Deadclaws

[Fluff/Angst with a happy ending]

I just think about Wade BEGGING Logan to let him sleep in bed with him. Logan just shakes his head every time, "You don't wanna do that, bub."

But Wade VERY MUCH does. He would literally kill to sleep with Logan, either way he takes that. Well, he'd literally kill someone regardless, that's his job, but you know!! He wants to run his bumpy, scarred fingers through Logan's chest fur so bad. He daydreams about big spooning his Honey Badger, sliding his arms around him and pressing his front to Logan's big, strong, and warm back. He only feels a little horny about it. A normal about of chubbing up about it.

He begs Logan for weeks, getting on his knees for all the wrong reasons. He hasn't wanted anything this bad for at least a few months! He's desperate.

Like most things in Wade's life, it happens at an unexpected and probably bad time. They had had a mission go bad, both bloodied, and ended up showering and finding comfort in bed with each other. They hardly spoke. It just mattered that they were physically touching. They were both still here. Wade got his Wolverine snuggles, and everything was alright again.

Well, until around 4 in the morning. Wade woke up to three adamantium alarm clocks punching through each of his lungs. It hurt like a bitch. He coughed blood right onto Logan's face. Gross. He definitely wasn't getting invited back to bed after this. He weakly tapped the furry man's shoulder. "Logie-bear, I was expecting some penetration tonight, but I like the pre-made holes played with a little more."

Logan growled in his sleep before the taps brought him back to consciousness. His eyes flipped open, and his expression changed from anger to horror in an instant. "WADE! Wade, I'm so sorry-" The claws withdrew, drawing another wet cough out of Wade. "Please, please, stay with me." He started to gather the sheets to press against Wade's chest, his hands slippery and red. "Althea!! Help! Please!" His eyes were wild, scared, and firmly on Wade. "We'll fix this. I'll fix this!" He turned towards the door again, yelling louder. "Althea!! Help me!!"

Wade was a little stunned. What was going on? He patted Logan's arm, trying to get 400 pounds of superhero off of him. He coughs out an "Off!"

Logan looked at him like he was crazy. "Fuck you if you think I'm letting you die here."

Wade tried to push him off again, smearing blood onto Logan's hairy chest. He sputtered, trying to get words out, but the air wasn't quite doing what he wanted yet. Drowning in blood sucked! 0/5 stars on Yelp for sure.

Al knocked loudly on the door. "Logan? You okay in there?" Logan leaped to unlock the door, allowing Wade to sit up a little bit, his flesh starting to really knit back together, feeling his lungs start to clear.

Logan opened the door. "Althea, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I stabbed Wade, he's- He's bleeding out. You need to call a medic- a doctor, someone!" His voice wavered a bit.

Althea placed a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow as she leaned on her walker. "Motherfucker, what the fuck are you talking about? A doctor?" Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of Wade's blood permeating the room. "Whew, that's nasty. Clean that up when you're done with whatever this shit is."

Wade coughed. "Very sweet that you care, Logan." His tone softened. He was realizing Logan wasn't 'here,' he was somewhere else, Wade wasn't really Wade in this scene. "Take a breath, Honeybadger. I'll be fine if you just give me a-" cough "second."

Logan's breathing was still heavy, his eyes still wide and scared. Wade was sure the blood spatters across his face weren't helpful either.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm fine! Or, I'll be fine once the mutant cancer does its job. Remember? I don't die." He waved, smiling at Logan from the bed. He wasn't sure the blood dripping from his chest and mouth was helping his case.

Logan deflated a bit. "Oh." He turned to Al. "Althea, I'm sorry. I didn't realize, or, I forgot. I apologize for waking you up."

Al waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna go smoke a joint. If you need to loosen that tight ass, feel free to join me."

Logan closed the door, coming to sit on the bed, holding his head between his knees.

Wade wiped his hands on the sheets before crawling to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. You deserve to get to freak out here and there. We've been through some crazy shit. Did you want to talk about it? Do you want me to go swipe Al's weed? She's not as stingy about it as her cocaine, promise."

"I could've killed you." Logan admits from behind his hands.

"Not possible. Great try though, good form." The Merk quips.

"Don't! Don't joke right now. I would've killed you if you weren't like this." Logan gestures to Wade, his hand still trembling, Wade's blood starting to dry between his fingers. "I shouldn't have let myself fall asleep around you."

"Logan, bud, hey, look at me." Wade patted Logan's knee, scooting closer. "Really look at me."

Logan sat up, turning to face Wade, his eyes red-tinged. His hair is crusty with blood. "Okay...?"

"Am I dead?"

"No, but-"

"No! That's the whole thing. I am alive, whether I deserve to be, or should be, or anything else. I'm here! I'm still here." He smiles softly at Logan. "That's all that matters to me. If a Wolverine cuddle costs me some minutes drowning in blood, I can assure you that is a very small price to pay."

Logan opens his mouth to respond, his sharp canines catching the light from the street lamp outside before he shuts it again. "I'm dangerous."

"I eat danger for breakfast, usually with unicorn marshmallows."

Logan actually laughs at that. "You're insane."

"Insanely in love with you~" Wade teases, jostling Logan with his shoulder.

Logan groans, wiping his face with his bloodied hands. "That can't be the first time you say you love me, that's terrible."

"I think it's perfect. Now, c'mon, let's change the sheets."

"It's gonna stain the mattress." Logan moves.

"Number 2 rule of sex and superheroing without an in-unit washer and dryer, always use a waterproof mattress cover." Wade taps his temple, smirking.

After another shower, a quick change of sheets, and replacing the mattress cover, Wade and Logan are back in bed, cuddled close.

"I love you, too." Logan says softly. "That's a pretty dangerous thing, though."

"Again, danger, breakfast, unicorn marshmallows." Wade mumbles as he pulls Logan closer.

#poolverine #deadclaws #wade wilson #wade x logan #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #wolverine #logan howlett #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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barbarianbookhoe · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 12

Forever falls Apart

A/N: I know I promised not to disappear for months again, but hey, I finished first semester of university with straight A's, so that's a win😅 This is a long ass one!

We are on the highway to hell for the next 2-3 chapters, I LOVE YOU GUYS THO

P. S. Mind you, I'm on my third rewatch of Glee while writing this

[Lil' guide: the divided parts are flashbacks, and the things said in "this format" are !SPOILER! 's voice echoing.]

Taglist: @kiraflowersworld @vainillasmil157 @bookloverfilmoholic @so-get-this-sammy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @hufflepuffprincessbabe @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitterspoons @wonderland2425 @noorie101

Fear has a habit of altering even the sanest of minds. It's like a disease, a plague that clouds your every thought until you are nothing but a mere semblance of the person you were before. It can cloud any reasonable logic you have, making you act irrationally.

And it can make you completely useless. Frozen like a statue. Disconnected from reality. Indifferent to what's happening around you. Trapped with your thoughts. Speechless.

Kaz stood and watched as Y/N fell from the sky, leaving a pool of blood where she sank into the sea. He watched as he waited for her to come up and wave to them, probably cursing about the cold water and her wet clothes. He waited, and waited, and waited, but she never emerged. Her voice was ringing in his ears.

"Promise me, Kaz. If I show symptoms of an addiction, promise me you won't give any jurda to me. Even if it means I'll die."

Kaz felt the urge to throw up. He held onto the railing of the ship with all his might, no doubt that his knuckles were turning white under the gloves. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, making him deaf to anything else.

The feeling came suddenly and Kaz feared he was going to drown in it. His breathing became rigid as he tried to keep any ounce of control he had left in him.

"We are soldiers."

Kaz blinked and out of nowhere Jesper and Inej were looking at him, terrified. Why was Jesper completely wet? How long was he standing there? Did they found her? Or has the sea claimed her forever?

"She won't wake up," Jesper told him with a trembling voice, tears burning his eyes. Matthias was taking off his fur, while Nina began the chest compression, using her powers to restart her heart.

Her hands were already covered in blood.

Inej and Wylan stood a few steps away from them, their eyes full of horror. Kaz saw the people around him speak, but the sounds didn't reach his ears.

Oh.

"If it comes down to it, let me die. Don't let me suffer. Please, Kaz, promise me."

That suffocating feeling returned much stronger, and it made Kaz unable to speak. He couldn't look away from the limp body that was holding him mere minutes ago. The bile rose in his throat, but Kaz refused to throw up. He felt sick, and all he could think of was the fact that now Y/N was just another one of the cold bodies that were suffocating him.

Kaz felt like his heart could stop any second, but he was physically unable to take his eyes off of her. Every attempt Nina made at reuscitating Y/N felt like a twist to the knife in his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Will you ever tell me-"

"Y/N." She interrupted him and for a second Kaz just looked at her, utterly confused.

"What?" He asked, but the girl just smiled back at him.

"You were going to ask my name. It's Y/N." Kaz only nodded, but he was already testing her name in his mind. Y/N. Y/N. He found it way too casual a name for someone like her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a muffled sound coming from next to him. Someone was trying to speak to him. Kaz didn't know who it was, and he didn't really care either. Y/N was dying. Or was she already dead? Should he go over to her? Check her pulse? Make sure she's alive? For that to happen, Kaz would've had to move and touch her skin.

Cold. Numb. Red. Void of any sign of life.

"I will march with you in times of war."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do it." Kaz demanded on a quiet voice, but Y/N just giggled. "No." Kaz asked again as he leaned heavily on his cane, visibly drunk. "Y/N, pleaseee."

"Absolutely not. Now get inside," she told him, pointing to the open door of his room. Kaz shook his head and tried to keep his face neutral, but his blown pupils betrayed his inebriated state.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her. "This is the last time I turned into a cat while you're drunk."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold. She must be feeling cold.

Kaz's movements were rigid, like he didn't even process what he was doing as he took his coat off and walked closer to Y/N's body on the floor. Then he stopped as if rethinking his decision, when he raised his gaze and noticed Jesper and Inej sobbing.

His first thought was that something must be really wrong if Jesper was uncontrollably sobbing. Jesper was an emotional person, but Kaz had never seen him cry, not even once.

To see him nearly choke on his own tears felt wrong to Kaz.

He looked at his coat in his hands, gripping the fabric so tight he might as well could've tore it apart. Kaz tried to control his erratic breathing, but it was harder and harder to do, the longer he kept staring at Y/N's body. The only color she had left was her own blood coating her. Kaz lowered the coat in his hand. She won't need it anymore.

Kaz felt the stares from the others, but he didn't dare look at them. He couldn't. How could he? He knew the kind of look they were giving him. Sadness. Grief. Pity. More pity. More sadness. He didn't need it. He didn't need their pity, he needed Y/N.

His Y/N. His best friend. His wife. Them staring at him with pitiful looks won't bring her back.

"I will rest with you in times of peace."

Kaz could still feel the way she was grabbing onto him on the tank. How she was holding him like he would disappear if she didn't. And after she ripped herself away from him, for one fleeting second, Kaz could see the guilt in her eyes.

That one second was already haunting him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was standing so close to him, Kaz could almost feel her heart beating. He looked at her like she was going to disappear if he didn't.

Her eyes had a faint glint in them from all the candles that she lit earlier. Kaz raised a hand to cup the side of her face and when she gently leaned into his touch, Kaz let out a gasp of breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

Y/N just smiled at him, and Kaz decided then and there he was going to change.

For the better, for Jordie…and for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He turned away from them. He felt his eyes burning and Kaz knew if he didn't leave, he was going to break down in front of them, no matter how strong his self-control was.

This was his breaking point. Losing his brother, the only family he had left, was like a death sentence to him. He couldn't go a day without something reminding him of his absence.

Then Kaz stumbled upon Y/N. Or rather, she stumbled upon him. She was annoying and too talkative, always making some noise and seeking Kaz's company whenever he was in the same room as her. Kaz did everything to avoid her, but she was persistent and eventually Kaz got used to her constant presence. He would've never admitted it, but sometimes he asked for her companion on purpose. Although he always had a made-up excuse for it.

Kaz stepped away from them, slowly, as if he was in a daze. In a way he was. His mind kept replaying every moment they spent together. Wether it was the two of them, or a mission, or just another night at the Crow Club. Every single interaction they had ever since they have met ran through his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No matter how hard I try to erase you from my mind, you sneak back in by simply existing. It's… frustrating," Kaz said as he dragged himself to his feet, every fiber of his being drenched in the harbor's water.

Then he looked at her, and he felt his heart stop at the way she was looking at him, like he was something worth looking at.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a gentle tap on his shoulder and Kaz aggressively hit the hand away, not even looking at who it was. He kept walking, not really knowing where. The chamber? The bottom of the ship? Back to her? Should he sit down? Should he continue with the plan? He would have to create a new one, without…her.

"I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return."

Kaz didn't plan this far. He didn't plan for this, because he was sure he was going to be the one to die. His death seemed most likely to happen. Not hers. Ghezen, not her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raffiel's fiancé stood near Kaz, watching him with a suspicious gaze. Kaz didn't know what to make of it, so he turned to her with a questioning look.

"You're just another fool under that cold exterior." She said with a faint smile as she watched Kaz look back and stare at Y/N.

"Watch out, Brekker. You look like you're falling."

I think I already did, Kaz thought to himself as he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What was he supposed to tell her family? What was he supposed to say to her brother, when he left basically saying she was going to come home, and not him? What was going to happen when Raffiel saw Kaz return, without her?

He would probably beat Kaz until he's nothing but a sack of bones and meat. Or shapeshift into a wolf, or a dog, or something predatory and tear him limb from limb. Kaz would take the punishment gladly. He decided that if Raffiel attacked him, he will let him.

There was another tap on his shoulder, but it was harsher, urging him to look at them. Kaz refused to, even when they stepped in front of him and began shouting at him. The closeness of the other person finally made Kaz look up, only to see Jesper's tear stained face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bottle was already half empty when Kaz finally decided to sign the papers. The papers he specifically asked for. With every signature, he took another sip from the glass. He finished the bottle too quickly for his liking. Everytime he wrote the name down, a part of him wanted to burn the papers, but the other part stopped himself from doing so. He told himself he was only being cautious, that this was the rational thing to do. But deep down Kaz knew that it would take all of his strength to control himself and not run to Y/N. The wedding ring was practically burning in his pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaz got lost in his thoughts again, and Jesper desperately tried to make him understand what he was saying. As he took in the empty look in Kaz's eyes, Jesper felt like he was talking to a ghost, rather than a human person. He never could read the emotions on Kaz's face, but this time it felt as if Kaz was drained of every emotion. Jesper could see it in his eyes that Kaz's mind was elsewhere, somewhere far away from the present.

"I have seen you change at the bottom of the world."

"For fuck's sake Kaz, are you even listening to me?!" Kaz heard Jesper shout into his face, and he looked at him. Jesper still didn't know if Kaz was actually hearing his words, but he kept speaking once again. "She's breathing Kaz. She's alive." He said and felt himself tear up again.

Kaz only looked back at him with slightly furrowed brows. Internally he was confused. Why was Jesper saying this? Why is he lying to him? Was this his way of trying to…console him? He didn't need consolation. Didn't need their pity.

Jesper's words made Kaz feel like someone just punched him after a fight, right before shooting him. Jesper must've noticed his confusion, because he looked into Kaz's eyes, not breaking eyecontact, hoping Kaz would finally understand him.

"She. Is. Alive." Jesper's words were firm, not leaving room for discussion. Kaz turned visibly confused, but Jesper just repeated his words. Kaz grew more and more confused, as Inej walked up to them. Kaz was glancing between the two of them, his brows furrowed, the confusion turning into irritation.

"Nina is taking care of her. She's too weak, but she's breathing." Inej informed him, but then her expression turned softer. "Look at her, Kaz. She's alive." She nodded behind Kaz, where Nina was still crying, accompanied by a relieved smile.

Kaz was almost sure his own mind was playing tricks on him. A joke. This must be a cruel joke. He must have been in so much distress and shock that he began hallucinating. The floorboards swayed under him, but that could've been caused by the waves crashing against the ship. Either way, it felt like everything was spinning around him.

He became dizzy, and soon the familiar feeling of bile rising in his throat got his attention. Kaz focused so hard on trying not to empty the contents of his stomach that he didn't even notice when he was left alone.

His heart was beating too loud. Breathing felt impossible. There were multiple voices around him, muffled by his own heartbeat. His vision was blurry and the cane in his hand did nothing to help him walk. In just a few seconds, Kaz walked as far away as he could from the group, and when he was sure they couldn't see him, he leaned over the railing and threw up.

The cold wind did nothing to ease his nausea. Kaz felt like he was back on the barge, suffocating under the mountains of bodies. He closed his eyes to try and get a grip on himself, but as soon as he did, the image of Y/N falling from the sky replayed in his head. There was too much blood. She was covered in it.

"There is no one more loved by me Kaz Brekker, stubborn and unbreakable."

Her voice was the only thing Kaz was able to hear, and it felt like torture to him.

"Let me die."

The air was being sucked out of his lungs, and Kaz gripped the railing like his life depended on it.

"Please don't let me suffer."

There were footsteps around him and Kaz felt the presence of someone towering over him. He didn't even realize he was bending down, clutching at his chest, his breathing uncontrollable.

"Promise me, Kaz."

The anger grew in him rapidly. Her voice was haunting him. Kaz hated how easy it was to miss her, how he could recognize the change in her attitude just by her voice, how it took up space in his head, but most of all, he hated that the only thing he could think about in that moment was the fact that he was never going to hear her again.

"What about Death?"

"It takes more than death to get rid of me."

Kaz let out a humorless scoff. "Liar," he whispered to himself. Stubborn. Reckless. Convincing. She was probably the best liar Kaz had ever met, second only after him.

"In this life and the next."

Why couldn't it be this one? They just got married. Y/N just realized how to be herself, not despite, but with her power. Kaz was just at the beginning of his redemption. If saints and gods did exist, Kaz couldn't understand why they would let Y/N die.

Y/N died.

She was dead.

Dead.

Y/N died. She's dead. Y/N is dead.

Dead.

At the edge of his vision Kaz glared at the sea like it was responsible for her death. Instead of blue, all he could see was red. The blood that coated her body. Blood, unfathomable amount of blood, that made it seem like she bathed in it.

How did she lose so much blood? Was there even that much in her? Kaz didn't know that much about biology or anatomy, but he knew losing so much blood was fatal.

Jesper and Inej shared concerned glances at Kaz's state. They retreated with a few steps after Kaz almost stabbed Jesper with the beak of his cane. His eyes were red, like he was holding back from crying, but despite that it seemed as if he was unaware of his surroundings. He would occasionally start to hyperventilate, only to abruptly stop and stare ahead of him, his mind being completely elsewhere.

The others didn't really know what to make of it, but Jesper and Inej, being the ones who knew him the longest outside of Y/N, they knew he was suffering internally. Kaz didn't really show his emotions, he wasn't the kind of person to express it outwardly. And for him to be so detached from reality that he didn't even hear what they were saying, for him to be completely locked inside his mind meant that he was overwhelmed. He was overwhelmed with his emotions and this was the only way he knew how to process the heavy load.

Jesper had an arm around Inej's shoulder, resting his head on top of hers. He was trying to muffle a sniffle, but Inej noticed it and looked up at him. "She's here, Jesper. She's still here with us," she tried to reassure him and Jesper looked up at the sky for a moment, sniffling.

"I just, I don't know what I would've done if she didn't make it." He let go of Inej to fidget with the rings on his fingers, hoping to ease his nerves. It didn't help.

"Nina doesn't know if she got affected by the jurda. She says she won't know anything until Y/N wakes up. I pray to the Saints she does," Inej told him and Jesper let out a weak scoff. "I think if she finds out I lost one of my guns, Y/N's going to bring herself out of a coma just to kick my ass." Jesper said it casually and it made Inej let out a soft laugh.

Kaz turned his head at the sound of their laugh. They weren't loud, their laugh was a quiet scoff at most, but still, it reached Kaz's ears. He looked at the two of them with such anger and disgust on his face, that for a second Jesper thought he was going to lash out at them.

He didn't. He kept staring back at them, and they could see the emotions change on his face. It turned from anger to detestation in mere seconds, and now both Jesper and Inej were waiting for Kaz to jump up and start a fight.

The hatred in his eyes shifted just as quickly as it appeared. It turned ito disappointment, raw and deep, and the unfiltered emotions he was showing made the guilt weigh heavy in their chest. Both of them knew how this must've looked from Kaz's view. He thought his wife was dead, and they were here, laughing, as if she was nothing to them.

"Kaz?" Jesper spoke first, trying to get a reaction from him, without triggering him to lash out. He looked back at them with the same glare, slowly getting up from the ground. His movements were predatory, and Jesper instinctively put a hand on his pistol, but with no real intention of using it.

He didn't know what to say. Kaz was standing in front of them, looking like he would burn them with his stare if he could. He took a slow step closer, the cane tapping against the floorboards with a loud click. Jesper finally understood how scary the sound of it actually was, especially in the silence. One wrong word or move, and Kaz was going to snap.

"Y/N is alive." Inej's voice was soft, but it had a firmness that made Kaz glance at her. She didn't break the eyecontact, guessing that Kaz was trying to decipher if she was lying or not. "Y/N is alive. She's injured, and Nina is taking care of her," she explained but the tension didn't leave Kaz's expression.

"She's going to be fine." Jesper added as positively as he could, despite his inner concern. Kaz seemed to be considering their words, still unsure if it was true or not. Jesper and Inej stood there, waiting for Kaz to process everything. Jesper almost let out a loud sigh of relief when the anger from Kaz's expression dissipated. He furrowed his brows as he looked back at them, utterly confused.

Poor Wylan decided to walk over to them at the wrong moment.

He was talking about what Kuwei just revealed about the jurda, and how it could affect Y/N, and the symptoms he noticed on her already. Kuwei stood next to Wylan, glancing at Kaz every two seconds, slightly scared of the way he was looking at them. He was right to feel scared, because Kaz was unusually silent. After Wylan quickly stopped talking, there was a few seconds of silence, where they were all just staring at Kaz, whose face was unreadable.

In three seconds Kaz was gripping the collar of Kuwei's shirt, slamming him down on the railing as if he was about to throw him into the sea. The beak of the crow was already at Kuwei's neck, keeping him from moving too much. His eyes were wide with terror as he looked into Kaz's violent gaze. It was like staring at a wild animal, that was ready to rip him limb from limb.

"Get off him, Kaz!" Jesper shouted and tried to get closer, but Kaz looked back at him with the same animalistic gaze and Jesper immediately stopped. He looked at Inej for help, while holding a hand out sigaling to Wylan to get behind him.

"Kaz, let him go. We need him alive." Inej managed to get to his side, ordering him sternly.

"I don't," Kaz replied, his voice lower than he realized. He loosened his grip on Kuwei, slightly lowering him over the railing. Kuwei began kicking for him to let go, but Kaz just tightened his hold on the silver crow at Kuwei's neck, drawing blood.

"He knows everything about the jurda. He could tell what side effects it might have on-," Wylan told him but he was quickly hushed by Jesper. "You've said enough already!" He ushered him further away from Kaz. Momentarily Kaz loosened his grip on the cane, glancing back where Wylan was standing. Wylan swallowed at the sight of the raw anger in Kaz's eyes.

That didn't stop him from speaking up again. Unfortunately for Wylan, he learned how to be confident at the worst possible moment. This time he really should've tried to be invisible instead of acting confident.

"Kuwei said it's still in her system, making it harder for Nina to heal her, because Y/N's shapeshifting might have made the injuries worse, than they were bef-," Before Wylan could process what was happening, Kaz had a hand around his face, forcing him to look up at him.

"Say it," Kaz seethed furiously, his hand tightening on Wylan's face, making his jaw hurt from the pressure.

"Say her name one more time Merchling, and they'll be uncovering your body for months," he whispered and Wylan tried to nod, but realized he couldn't because of the grip Kaz had on him. Kaz raised one of his brows as he loosened his grip, just enough for Wylan to nod fiercely. Kaz held him for a few more seconds before letting him go.

Four days.

Four damn days.

That's how long Kaz has been avoiding everything and everyone. Whenever one of them asked what the next step was when they got back, his reply was always the same. Stick to the original plan.

He was more like a ghost than a real person at this point. Jesper exchanged concerned looks with Inej, or Nina anytime he found Kaz staring at the horizon, unmoving. He couldn't wrap his head around why Kaz wasn't with you right now. They told him countless times that you were alive and breathing, that you did not die.

But it seemed Kaz was already convinced you were dead. In the past four days Jesper saw more emotion on Kaz than in the years he had known him. He didn't know wether to be concerned or relieved that Kaz was actually expressing what he was feeling.

He decided on the former. Kaz wasn't stable by any means. The emotions he showed weren't exactly positive. Anger, grief, irritation. These were the usual feelings he showed aside from his usual brooding mood.

They were walking on thin ice around him. Any word or movement could set him off and Kaz would take his feelings out on the object closest to him. The group hid most of the things around the ship, before even Specht decided he had enough of Kaz destroying everything.

After each crash out Kaz retreated to the side of the ship, staring out at the water for hours upon hours, once or twice even attempting to walk into the room Nina treated Y/N in. He always failed to do so. The furthest he got was two steps from the door. He couldn't find it in himself to actually look inside and see her.

He was convinced that once he looked, all he would be able to see was her corpse. Then he would realize the others were lying about her survival to keep him from going completely insane. Too late for that, he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the fifth day Kaz finally willed himself to take those remaining two steps. The only reason he was able to do so was because everyone else was gathered around Nina, who was telling them tales from her childhood, trying to lighten everyone's spirits.

Obviously they didn't notice him slipping away from them. They didn't even know he was eavesdropping on them.

As Kaz stood in front of the door now, his couarge wavered. He would never admit it, probably not even to Y/N, but he never felt so anxious like in that moment. His hand was holding the doorknob for at least five minutes now, debating if he should enter or try again tomorrow.

What are the chances he could do this again? That there wouldn't be anyone to see him hesitate? How many more attempts have to be made before he finally steps inside?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. At first, Kaz only looked around the dimly lit room, taking in the mess on the table. The first thing he focused on were the multiple clots thrown into a pile on one of the chairs. Bloody clots.

He was so focused on the blood, he didn't notice the movements on the small bed in the corner. He didn't even register the quiet noise, until a raspy voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Kaz?" The voice asked shakily, as if they had just woken up.

Kaz didn't turn to them immediately. He took a few seconds to pull himself together, before slowly, agonizingly slowly turned to look at the figure on the bed.

As soon as he looked into Y/N's eyes, Kaz crumbled.

He had to grab onto his cane along with the table so as not to fall to his kness. His legs trembled slightly anyways. The air was knocked from his lungs as he just... stared at her.

She was alive. She was breathing. She was here.

"Kaz?" She asked again, frowning a little when her movement caused her side to jolt in pain.

"Alive," Kaz mumbled under his breath, the words too muffled for Y/N to hear.

"What?" She asked tiredly, her voice no louder than a whisper as she kept staring back at him. Kaz leaned towards her slightly, as if he tried to step closer, but changed his mind and leaned back.

Neither of them broke the eyecontact. The silence was heavy with their unsaid words, the circumstances making it harder for either of them to say what they wanted.

"You're alive." Kaz whispered, but it felt loud in the silence. Y/N looked at him with furrowed brows at first. She looked at him with a questioning look, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"You're alive." His words were firmer this time, as he let go of the table and took a step closer. Despite her tiredness and the pain all through her body, Y/N managed a tiny smile in the corner of her lips.

"I'm alive, koja," she whispered.

Kaz collapsed into the chair next to her bed.

A/N: If you read this far, first of all thank you and hope you liked it!

Second: here's the full wedding vow from Genya and David's wedding, edited to fit this story. It's one of my deleted scenes, where Y/N says it in Kerch, while Kaz says it in Ravkan♡

"We are soldiers. I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return. I have seen you change at the bottom of the world. There is no one more loved by me Kaz Brekker, stubborn and unbreakable."

[Bottom of the world=the Barrel]

#grishaverse #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x fem!reader #grishaverse fic #kaz brekker fanfic #six of crows #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #kaz brekker #ice court heist

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