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fadedncity · 1 month ago

Text

(blood)thirst

wc: 11.2k

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: smut, supernatural!au, lycan!jeno, vampire!reader, natural enemies to lovers, a tad bit of a slowburn (i swear i ain’t mean for it to be this long 😫), injuries, blood, angst, mention of death and family loss, reader is technically older (physically the same age) so..age gap(?), flirting, sexual tension, teasing, pet names, oral sex, multiple orgasms, slight blood play (very minor), unprotected sex, pretty sure that’s it

song inspo: closer by nine inch nails | acquainted by the weeknd

a/n: i’m sorry for the wait, edits took longer than expected but ty for the patience 🙏🏽

TUESDAY [3:31 AM]

Rain pours in sheets, pelting against your skin. Your footsteps are silent as you sprint through the underbrush, hot on the heels of the Lycan ahead of you.

Even with his head start, it took you no time to catch up to him. Your pace matched his as you zeroed in on his steady breathing and rhythmic drum of his footfalls. Lycans are fast, and he hadn't even shifted forms yet. But still, you had no trouble keeping up with him.

All the while you closely trail the Lycan, you're cautious of your surroundings, keeping your ears peeled for any sign of a presence accompanying you both in these woods.

Just as you were about to fall in line with him, an unexpected sound sliced through the night—a whistle, followed by the unmistakable twang of a bowstring.

An arrow whizzed past your head, embedding itself in a tree trunk to your left. Stopping in your tracks, you tilt your head, seeing sparks and smoke emitting from the arrowhead now embedded into the old pine tree. But you aren't given any more time to investigate as you're tackled to the ground by the Lycan.

Before you could push him off, his body shields you from the explosion of blinding light so bright you could've sworn it was day for a split second.

He just saved you.

"Are you okay?" Jeno asks, rain dripping from the ends of his hair as he stands from the dirt.

"Yeah," you nod, hesitantly taking the hand he offers. "Thanks," you say, looking at the tree bark melting off the trunk.

The humans have UV explosives. Great.

Both you and Jeno hear the sound of cars approaching from the nearby road and take off running again. Without a word, you plunge deeper into the forest, your movements synchronized with Jeno's by necessity.

"How did they even find us?" Jeno asks, looking over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

The hunters were relentless, their shouts echoing in the distance, along with the pounding of their boots. You moved swiftly, navigating the maze of branches and roots with an ease born from decades of practice. The forest seemed to close in around you, the trees pressing in like silent sentinels bearing witness to your flight.

Then shots start firing off, the sharp cracks of bullets cutting through the air. It sounds like they were coming from every direction, the rain making it harder for both you and Jeno to locate where the hunters are.

A bullet soars past you and stops whistling in your ears when it hits flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Jeno beside you roars out in pain and begins to slow down as the metallic taste of blood enters the air around you. You shoot him a look of concern over your shoulder.

"I'll be fine," he says. But when you see his hand pressed to his shoulder, blood seeping from an injury that should've already started healing, you know he's far from okay. "We need to get out of these woods," Jeno winces as he applies pressure to the gunshot wound.

"I know a place not too far from here," you tell him.

[6:37 AM]

The moon's silver glow was waning, giving way to the first light of dawn. The storm had passed, leaving the forest dank and muddy. Urgency rose as you were closing in on daybreak. You and Jeno raced through the forest, the scent of his blood and sweat mingling in the damp morning air.

Jeno's breath was labored, each step accompanied by a pained grunt as he pushed himself forward. The wound on his shoulder, though not fatal, was slowing him down.

"The sun's gonna be up soon," Jeno pants, his voice weary.

"I know," you raise your eyes to the sky, "But we're almost there."

As you ascend the mountain, you spot the entrance behind a thick curtain of ivy and moss. The camouflaged door was almost invisible against the rocky face.

The two of you approach the fortified door. But not before you start to feel the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles all over your body, a warning of the daylight's deadly approach.

The air grows warmer with the first rays of sunlight piercing through the treetops, casting long shadows stretching like skeletal fingers across the ground, leaving you exposed. You scream out in pain just before you can reach the door, feeling the severe burns blistering across your body under the sun's relentless gaze.

Without hesitation, Jeno quickly removes his jacket and throws it around you, shielding you as best as possible from the searing sunlight.

You reach the door with trembling hands and enter the security code to unlock it. You hear the mechanism click and attempt to push the door open, but it remains stubbornly shut. The hinges, unused for so long, now rusted, obstruct your entry.

"It's stuck," panic edges your voice.

Using his good shoulder, Jeno presses his weight into the door, helping you push it open. The thick metal gives way with a heavy creak, welcoming you inside. The moment you both are through, Jeno slams the door shut behind him, enveloping you in the safety of darkness.

The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows across the walls, the only illumination source along the steps down to the bunker. As you descend further down, you can hear the sounds of the forest growing distant, muted, and distorted through the layers of earth and stone.

With the adrenaline from the chase already simmered down, the reality of your situation sets in. Here you are, a vampire, with Jeno, a lycan, forced into hiding together by humans hunting you both. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words only filled by the sounds of Jeno's steps behind you.

Your burns are already beginning to heal now that you're out of the sunlight. The cool, dim interior of the bunker feels like a sanctuary, the pain in your skin subsiding by the time you lead Jeno into a high-ceiling room.

"Thanks, again," you break the silence, returning his jacket. Even in the shadows, you can see Jeno's eyes examining your burns. "I'll heal," you assure him. "You, on the other hand, aren't for some reason."

"I'm fine," Jeno lies.

"You're not. You're still bleeding out. I can smell it."

Jeno stays silent, knowing there's no use in arguing with you.

"I'll go see if I can find the generator and a med kit or something," you say.

The underground facility is large enough to house an entire clan and well-equipped for emergencies—or at least it was once. The thick and impenetrable walls provide a sense of security, but the darkness within is oppressive, the silence deafening.

You move through the narrow corridors, blindly navigating yourself through the place. The emergency lights give off a faint glow, barely enough to see by. The bunker has an air of abandonment from years of sitting unused here. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust motes danced in the faint light.

Jeno isn't sure how long you're gone, as all he can focus on is the agonizing pain in his shoulder, further slumping against the wall to support his weight.

The lights finally flicker on, and you return with a med kit in hand, finding Jeno right where you left him. His breathing was shallow, face pale and drawn, sweat glistening on his brow. From where he stands, the light casts deep shadows across his face, highlighting the strain etched into his features.

"Sit," you say, opening the case of medical supplies on the table.

"I can do it myself," Jeno mutters, though his voice lacks conviction as he weakly pushes himself away from the wall.

"You look like you can barely stand on your own. You lose anymore blood and you won't be doing anything yourself anymore," your words are punctuated by the snap of latex gloves you slip on.

Jeno has no energy to protest. He drops his jacket onto a chair and peels off his shirt, sitting on the table before you.

You don't have much time to ogle over the Lycan's chiseled physique as your eyes are drawn to the discolored skin around the bullet's entry point. In all your years of existence, you've seen some pretty bad shit. But even this sight—Jeno's bloodied and seemingly infected shoulder, is enough to make even you wince.

"There's no exit, which is probably why you're not healing. Whatever specialized bullet hit you is still in there," you observe, examining the injury closely.

"Great," Jeno groans, throwing his head back. "Think you can get it out?"

"Sure, but it's not gonna be fun," you tell him.

"Let's just get it over with."

Using saline solution from the kit, you clean enough blood off his shoulder to be able to clearly see the entry point before you grab the forceps and carefully search for the bullet. Jeno clenches his jaw, deeply breathing through his nose with flared nostrils.

"I've almost got it," you tell him. You pick up the pituitary rongeur once you locate the bullet. Jeno grips the table's edge so hard you hear the slightest splintering of wood in his grasp. You pull the bullet out of Jeno's shoulder, his skin sizzling until you've got it out completely.

"Pure silver," you study the small piece of metal, holding it up to the light. "A few more hours and this thing surely would've killed you." You toss the bullet into a stainless steel tray with a clatter.

"Now it's my turn to thank you," Jeno grimaces, holding the piece of gauze against his shoulder as you silently asked. "Would've had second thoughts if I knew getting shot would be like this." he jokes.

"I don't have to tell you silver's poison to you guys but since it was lodged in there pretty good for so long your healing won't immediately kick in. But you should be good in a few hours," You wrap bandages around Jeno's arm, securing it with medical tape.

He gently grabs your hand, getting you to stop working and meet his eyes, "Seriously, thank you," Jeno says.

"You're welcome," you quietly reply, unable to pull yourself away or at least break eye contact.

A shrill sound echoing off the stone walls breaks the fragile truce. You glance at your phone and see Draven's name flashing across the screen.

You put some space between you and Jeno as you step away to answer the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "Draven."

"Are you alright?" Draven's voice is sharp, filled with concern and authority.

"I'm fine. It was the hunters. They knew about the meeting and ambushed us. Only Jeno and I got out." you reply.

"Where are you now?"

"We're at the old Valor safe house."

"We? You're still with the Lycan now?" Draven asks.

"Yes," your eyes flicking over to Jeno, who's having a similar conversation with his father, "I trust him. He saved my life."

"You're mother's daughter you are," Draven mutters on the other line.

"And what about it?" you ask, an undertone of malice in your voice at the mention of your mother. "How the fuck did they find us, Draven?"

"This is no time for that conversation," Draven lowers his voice, "I will say you might be better off where you are right now."

"What happened? Is everyone alright?"

"Seems the humans had planned a coordinated attack. We've been taking in vampires all night from all over the city. People are shaken up, scared, angry," Draven says. "It might take us a while to come out there and get you. Are you sure you'll be okay until then?"

"Haven't really had a chance to settle. Don't know what's left around here, not sure if there'll be much left to find."

"We'll try to get out there as soon as things calm down. It's getting late and after the night we've all had we ought to all get rest. Take care of yourself."

"Take care of yourself too, Draven."

You turn to find Jeno already having ended his call with his father.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

"My father said we should stay put," he says, clenching his phone so tightly in his hand that you worried he might break it.

"Draven said the same thing," you can practically feel Jeno's anger broiling from across the room, "But something else happened?"

"A few members of the pack got attacked last night. They're okay but they barely made it out."

"A few of our nests got raided too."

"And we're just supposed to stay here? They attack us unprovoked and we're just supposed to take it? Do nothing?? How can you be so calm about this right now? I mean aren't you angry?" Jeno asks.

You furrow your brows, "Of course I am. But there's nothing that we can do about it right now. We are miles away from the city, our people, reinforcements. And everything that happened last night was proof enough that we are severely out of league here on our own, okay. And let's also not forget to mention that it is daytime and I quite literally can't do a fucking thing right now," you say, "So we take a minute. We recuperate here. Heal," you nod toward his arm, "Rest," you tiredly sigh, rubbing your temples.

At this moment, Jeno was envious of how you seemed to keep a level head, now slightly ashamed of his outburst.

Jeno's resolve softens. "You're right, I just-" his words abruptly stop once he looks at you, "Shit, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched into his features.

Your brows furrow at his question before you feel the blood dripping from your nose. Somewhat embarrassed, you curse under your breath as you wipe the blood from your face.

"Yeah, it's just my body telling me I'm overdue for sleep." With not enough time to explain much else to Jeno, you say, "Doesn't matter which room you choose. Showers should still work and clothes should still be in the closets. Take what you want" before rushing out of the room.

He nods, "Thanks—" Jeno can barely get a word out before you've already disappeared down the hallway, locking yourself away in your own room, "…Goodnight, I guess."

[6:42 PM]

Lukewarm water sputters out of the showerhead, and you take note of the poor water pressure, silently cursing the antiquated plumbing. The water drips down your body in an inconsistent stream, making it a less-than-satisfying experience. You scrub away the remnants of the previous day, feeling the grime of dread and tension wash away.

In a new change of clothes, before you did anything else, you knew you needed to scour this place for a charger since you woke up to find your phone dead.

On your way toward the kitchen you find yourself stopping in front of a half-open door, peeking inside to find Jeno still asleep. He's sprawled on the bed, his brow furrowed even in his sleep, a testament to the strain of last night and this morning's events. The sight of him stirs a mixture of emotions as you watch his chest slowly rise and fall—relief that he's safe and a flicker of something deeper that you quickly suppress.

With your luck, you were able to find a charger as well as additional supplies to help sustain you and Jeno while you're staying here. It's not much but you'll take it over nothing.

You open the fridge door and to your disappointment, only find one bag of o-negative in there. You didn't even get a chance to feed yesterday as you were planning to after your meeting with Jeno. And we all know how that ended.

You don't dwell for too long, your attention immediately going to your buzzing phone on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," you answer.

"What the fuck?? Draven told us what happened, are you okay?" Tyra asks.

"Could be better. All I have access to right now is O, and there's barely any of that but the hunters are off our trail, so hopefully Jeno and I won't be stuck inside this ancient tomb much longer."

"You're with Jeno? Like Jeno Lee?"

"Do you know any other Jenos?" you ask.

"Draven didn't say you were cooped up with a Lycan. And him? He's like the hottest Lycan to ever grace this earth. Maybe he can help you break this dry spell after two centuries." Tyra lighthearted jokes.

"First of all, fuck you. Second, I wouldn't say all that."

"Are you telling me he's not hot?" she questions.

"He's…" you trail off, "Alright."

Tyra scoffs on the other line, "Why do things like this never happen to me? If I were you, we'd be settling more than just a peace agreement."

You laugh, "Yeah, I need a break from you. Maybe being stuck here ain't too bad."

"You sure ain't wrong about that. It's a fucking shit show here—just a second!" Tyra yelled to someone in the background, "I gotta go, I'll talk to you later though."

"Talk to you later, Ty."

Just as you hang up the phone, you hear the faint creak of a door opening. You look up to see Jeno emerging from his room. Now adorning loose dark grey sweatpants and a white button-up with about only two buttons fastened.

"Evening," he greets you, his voice husky from sleep.

"Good evening," you clear your throat, "How're you feeling?"

He shrugs with only one shoulder, "Like I've been shot. Took damn near half the morphine in the med kit for me to sleep a wink."

"You definitely slept more than a wink," you mumble, beckoning him over to you, "Do you mind if I....?"

"Be my guest," he effortlessly undoes the couple of buttons with one hand, letting the shirt fall off his shoulders.

You carefully unwrap the gauze, allowing the bloodied bandages to fall to the floor. Jeno watches you examine his wound.

"What is it?" he asks, seeing your brows stitch together.

"You should've started healing by now," you frown, seeing as his shoulder doesn't look any better than before. Instead, it seems as if the infection is spreading. And in your predicament, your options are pretty limited. "Do you trust me?" you ask.

"Do I really have much of a choice?"

"Not really, no," you say, grabbing his forearm with both hands, "I'm sorry about this."

"What are you-" But before Jeno can finish, you snap his radius in a clean break. Jeno's angry howl bounces off the aged stone walls.

"Jen-"

He growls, pushing you away, "Get the fuck back," Jeno glares at you with black beady eyes.

You keep your distance and watch as his shoulders heave and the muscles in his back ripple under his skin. Claws start to grow from his nail beds, and his ears stretch until they're pointed. You can hear the fabric of his clothes tearing as Jeno grows twice in size before your eyes. Roars of pain continue to rip from Jeno's throat with his transformation completely overcoming him.

Standing across from you is no longer the man you had gotten yourself acquainted with over the past 24 hours. Instead, this half-man, half-beast towers before you, baring sharp canines and a senseless predatory hunger behind his eyes, absent of his humanity.

You glance at the dining table, spotting your desert eagle where you left it this morning, and try not to make any sudden movements that could possibly aggravate the Lycan.

"Now, you know I was just trying to help," you say, your voice steady but soft as you slowly inch closer to the table.

Jeno's growl reverberates through the confined space, a guttural warning before he lunges at you with alarming speed. Instinct took over. You dodge Jeno, vaulting yourself into the air, flipping over him, and landing on the table gracefully.

Your fingers curl around the grip of your pistol, aiming your gun at Jeno before he can even think about charging at you again. Your finger hovers over the trigger, the metallic click of the safety being disengaged echoing loudly in the tense silence.

"Jeno, you've saved my life and now I'm just trying to save yours. Do not make me shoot you," you warn, your voice a low, deadly calm. You aim at his leg, sure to temporarily debilitate him instead of shooting to kill.

A beat of silence passes before Jeno's breathing begins to normalize. The wildness in his eyes gradually softens as his shoulders drop and his posture straightens. His transformation recedes, muscles shrinking and claws retracting until he is once again in his human form. You watch his eyes change from feral black to their original deep chestnut brown, now filled with exhaustion.

"Sorry," Jeno apologizes, his voice rough with lingering regret.

You wave off his apology, "Don't sweat it," With a click, you reengage the safety and lower your gun as you hop off the table, "It worked," you grin triumphantly, noting the lack of any wound or scar on his shoulder.

Jeno looks down at his shoulder and arm, flexing both experimentally. "That was extremely stupid of you, you know," he says, shaking his head,

"The moon isn't the only thing that influences your transformation," you shrug, "If you transform, your healing factor kicks in and it did. Besides, it's not like you'd be the first Lycan to try and attack me," you say with a faint, wry smile.

WEDNESDAY [9:18 PM]

"They wouldn't be able to find this place, right?" Jeno asks in a hushed tone like he was afraid to break the silence.

"I highly doubt it. Many vampires don't know about this place, I only do because I was brought here when I was younger," your eyes are still trained on the monitors in front of you, "However considering they shouldn't have been able to find out about our meeting, I wouldn't put anything past them," you tear your attention away from live surveillance footage to give it to Jeno.

"How do you think they found out?" The light of the computer monitors cast an artificial glow across Jeno's features.

"That's what I've been wondering since," you say, with a suggestive glance.

"What are you insinuating?" Jeno turns his chair toward you.

"I'm insinuating nothing. It's just interesting. Your father and Draven were supposed to meet but something happened last minute and neither of them could attend so they send you and me instead? And then we get ambushed. It's just not a coincidence is all I'm saying."

A beat of silence passes as Jeno thinks over your theory, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights from the halls filling the space.

"Are you saying that they knew?"

"I don't know your father much so I can't speak for him. But Draven..." you wince, "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Why would Draven risk your life if he thought it was a setup anyway?" Jeno furrows his brows.

You shrug, "He knows I'd be able to handle myself, and I did." you pursed your lips. "I'm not saying he knew what exactly was going to go down but Draven is pretty paranoid. He doesn't trust many people. So if he got a feeling he was being betrayed, especially by one of his own, he'd hold his card pretty close to his chest."

"He didn't tell you he was thinking any of this?"

"Draven doesn't necessarily have to tell me anything. I just know. He was suspicious of a mole within the coven, which is why I didn't ask any questions when he requested I go in his place."

"You're making it seem like this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

"Well not this particular situation, but close enough. I mean, you've met Draven. This ain't the first time someone would've tried to take him out," you smile, "Why do you think there are so many security cameras around this side of the mountain?" You leave Jeno to keep monitoring the cameras if he wishes as you go to take a shower.

. . .

Stepping into the library, your eyes adjust to the dim lighting as you find Jeno seated at a table. His expression is one of deep concentration and fascination, absorbed in the pages and pictures laid out before him.

"Keeping yourself entertained?" you ask, your muted footsteps shuffling into the room.

The glow of the old chandelier shines a warm, golden light from overhead, casting a soft halo around Jeno, "Yeah, actually," he chuckles, "Is this you?" Jeno asks, holding up a photograph. The sepia tones capture you and Draven in a snapshot of joy, the two of you laughing amidst a gathering of friends, your clothes reflecting the exuberance of the roaring 20s.

"Yeah," you murmur. Taking the photograph gently, a wave of nostalgia washes over you, "That was a long time ago."

It was almost adorable, the curiosity that glimmered in Jeno's eyes, thousands of questions swimming behind them. You roll your eyes, pulling the chair next to him out.

It was unexpected of Jeno to be able to draw you out of your usual reserve. It doesn't even register to either of you that minutes turned into hours stretching into the early morning.

"How long have you known Draven?"

"Too long," you laugh, "He knew me when back when I was still human. He's been around longer than almost anyone."

Too enamored in the pages before him, your eyes steal a few glances at the man next to you. You study Jeno silently as he carefully picks up each photo. He is handsome, and undeniably so, it's evident he's been blessed by Aphrodite. The way the light plays across his features only accentuates his striking looks, and you can't resist your admiration.

Trailing your eyes up his neck, your mouth waters, watching the beat of his pulse throb beneath his skin—Damn, I'm gonna need to feed again soon. You snap out of it.

Jeno's voice pulls you back to reality, "I recognize this picture. Who is this?" Jeno asks, sliding another photograph across the table toward you.

Your eyes flicker from the photograph to Jeno, "Where have you seen this before?" you ask, your voice tinged with surprise.

"In my house," Jeno replies, pulling out his phone, "My mother has the full picture." He shows you a family picture taken in the living room of his house. "She's standing right next to her," he says, zooming in on a framed photo behind his sister's head.

Surely, it's the full photograph. Your mothers, standing side by side, their smiles as radiant as ever.

Jeno watches the sadness fill your eyes as you give a small smile, "It's my mom," you say.

Sensing the shift in your mood, Jeno quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," you stop him, "I just...don't talk about her much." The room feels heavy with unspoken emotions.

Jeno nods, not wanting to push further. "I understand, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I wouldn't have-"

You stop him firmly, yet gently, "No, Jen, it's fine, seriously," you rest your hand atop his, "It's not that I don't want to talk about her. It's just I have a hard time doing it sometimes."

Despite the somber turn in conversation, Jeno's presence is a comfort as he closes his fingers around yours. You weren't expecting to feel the warmth of his hand in yours, but it offers you solace. The silence returns, but this time, it feels more like a shared moment of understanding rather than discomfort.

"What was she like?" he asks quietly.

Flipping through the weathered photo album you thought had been lost all these years, a warm smile takes over your face. "She was beautiful. And funny, and smart, and full of love," you say, your voice tinged with pride and sorrow. "She was raised by witches, so she was no stranger to any of this," you wave your hand, indicating the room filled with arcane books and artifacts, "That's how she met Draven and probably how she knew your mom."

"I can't believe my mother never said anything about her."

"I'd understand why. Her death hit a lot more than just me pretty hard."

You knew it was coming sooner or later and waited for the question to fall from his lips. "What happened?"

"We were attacked by Lycans," you say, and Jeno's face is immediately taken over by guilt mixed with empathy. "They were infected with vampire venom." You begin to explain, "Usually it's harmless. The humans even have found ways to use it as another means to get high. But in large enough doses, our venom for you guys-"

"Turns us into rabid animals. I know, my father has told us the stories," sorrow and compassion are etched into Jeno's features, "I'm so sorry, y/n."

You continue, "My mom didn't care about surviving herself. She used her last breath to make Draven promise to save me at all costs. Next thing I knew, I woke up completely healed with a fatal allergy to sunlight and an insatiable bloodlust."

A heavy silence settles between you two as Jeno carefully chooses his next words.

"Do you know what happened to the Lycans?"

You shook your head, "Draven and a few others had tracked the pack across a few states but by the time he caught up with them they were dead."

"I'm sorry-"

"Please, Jeno, once was enough," you squeeze his hand, still unable to look him in the eyes, "I don't blame you or any Lycan for that fact. All that anger and pain," you let out a shaky breath, "I'm holding it for the right person."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Lycans know the risk of vampire venom so they couldn't have willingly taken it. And I mean a whole pack?" your brows furrow, "Someone purposely infected them. We just don't know who or why."

"You know I could ask around see if anyone in the pack knows anything."

"Draven would've already thought to do that years ago already. Every trail went cold. A part of me has come to terms with the fact that we'll probably never get those answers."

Jeno nods, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "I'll still keep an ear out. Maybe something new will come up."

You nod, a small but genuine smile touching your lips despite the heaviness in your heart. "Thank you, Jeno."

Jeno nods in understanding, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, a shared understanding passing between you. The library feels smaller now, filled not just with books and memories.

THURSDAY [8:19 PM]

This is gonna be a problem.

Each moment without feeding stretches into an eternity as you stare at the empty shelves of the fridge.

"What was that?" Jeno's voice echoes across the room from his spot on the couch.

Fuck, he heard me? "Nothing," you reply, closing the fridge quickly.

Your stomach growls insistently, hunger gnawing at your insides, and you begin to reminisce about that last bag of O-neg you had.

The thought of descending from the safety of the mountain to seek sustenance in the nearest town flitted through your mind, but the ever-present risk of hunters finding you keeps you rooted in place. You decide against burdening Jeno with your dilemma, as there was little he could do to remedy the situation without endangering both your lives anyway.

When you turn around, you nearly collide with Jeno's chest as he had moved across the room faster than you anticipated. He's standing close enough you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. You keep your shoulders square even as Jeno's intoxicating scent invades your space once again.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Nothing," you repeat, attempting to sidestep him, but he blocks your path, his expression unwavering.

"You're lying," He narrows his eyes, scanning your face as he takes a step forward.

"No, I'm not," you counter, backing up until you feel the refrigerator door against your back.

"Then move," Jeno presses, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Why must I?" you challenge, crossing your arms defensively.

"You always this stubborn?"

"Since the day I was born," you grin proudly.

"Must I demonstrate how easily I can move you, sweetheart?" Amusement tinges Jeno's tone.

Sweetheart? Oh, we're going there?

You smirk involuntarily, unfolding your arms. "That's cute but you're just a pup, Jen. Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now," you teasingly pout.

Jeno pokes his cheek with his tongue at your comment and accepts your challenge. He starts by attempting to move you aside, but you catch his wrist in your hand before he can lay a finger on you. He tries to grab you with his other hand, but you're still faster, blocking his arm before you hit him directly in the middle of his chest, making the Lycan stumble back.

Jeno laughs.

You haven't moved from your spot, waiting for his next move before he launches himself into a series of swift strikes aimed at testing your defenses. You retaliate by throwing your fists almost faster than he can block, aiming for his midsection, and landing a hit. Jeno's knocked back a few steps, putting enough space between you both to give him time to catch his breath.

"Draven's right, you really do know how to handle yourself."

"Of course I can, that's how I saved your ass remember? Now we gonna keep talking or are you gonna show me something worth my while?"

The rhythm of this spontaneous spar intensifies as you both circle each other.

The kitchen area echoes with the sound of your footsteps, grunts of exertion, and the occasional light laughter as your movements adapt to one another's.

But it all comes to a stop in a silent blink of an eye, your back lands on a flat surface as you're pinned to the dining room table. You underestimated his speed, unable to leg sweep him as you planned, now your faces only inches apart.

Jeno gives you a lopsided grin as he looks down at you, his chest heaving, his eyes dark as they peer through silky curtains of hair. The tension between you crackles in the air as you have him trapped between your legs. The room's atmosphere seems palpable and charged with you both unexpectedly in this vulnerable position, but you neither move as the seconds stretch on.

Jeno seemingly snaps out of the trance first, letting go of your wrists and weaseling his way from between your legs. When he swings open the fridge door, the triumphant smile on Jeno's face drops as he stares at the empty shelves. "There's nothing in here."

"Exactly," you sit up, swinging your legs over the table's edge, "There're no more blood reserves," you say.

"And you weren't going to say anything?" Jeno's concern turned to incredulity.

"What's the point? The closest blood bank is 50 miles that way," you gesture vaguely, "And in case you forgot, we're down here hiding from humans who want to kill us."

"And what's going to happen to you if you go too long without feeding?" Jeno presses, his voice softening with worry.

"I'll start decomposing from the inside out," you reply bluntly, "But it'd be a while before that happens."

"So what, you were going to hide this and just suffer in silence for god knows how long we're stuck here?"

You shrug, "It could be worse," you murmur as if it would lighten the mood, "But what exactly could you do to help me in this situation?" you retort, a note of resignation in your voice.

"You could feed from me," Jeno suggests quietly.

"Jeno, I'm not drinking your blood," you shake your head.

"Why? Because you're above drinking Lycan blood, princess?" Jeno's tone is gentle but insistent.

You narrow your eyes at the use of the pet name, "I never said that. Blood from banks is processed and centrifuged, so it's essentially watered down compared to drinking from a live...donor," you explain, your words measured. "When vampires directly feed from someone, we get some of their memories, feelings, and thoughts. It can get pretty intense and somewhat very intimate. Something similar would happen if you were to consume my blood as well. Which is why I wasn't sure whether to give you any when you weren't healing, so—"

"So you broke my arm to trigger my transformation to heal me instead," Jeno interjects, his voice tinged with understanding.

"Yeah. I am sorry about that, but like I said, I had faith it'd work," you admit, your tone apologetic yet resolute.

"Do you not trust me?" Jeno's question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be refusing," you reply softly, "My bad I consider you a friend rather than food," your tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Friends, huh," Jeno muses, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

"Don't push it," you warn with a small smirk.

"When was the last time you fed?" he asks.

"Two days ago. It'll be enough to hold me over for another few days. So let's just hope we're saved by then," you say.

FRIDAY [7:50 PM]

"Jeno?" you call out, stepping into the common area.

Still no answer. You woke up to find the bunker suspiciously quiet. You already checked his room, and the lights in the library were still off. No TV was on, no shower being run, not even a creak of a floorboard. The usual draw of breath Jeno's lungs take could no longer be heard by your ears that had grown finely tuned to the Lycan.

If he's still here there's no way you wouldn't be able to detect him.

You reach the security room, your eyes bouncing around the screens, searching for any sign of Jeno. Your worry is quickly replaced with fury when you spot a shadowy figure approaching through the trees.

Jeno calmly strolls along the path that leads up to the main entrance with no sense of urgency in his stride. With his hands in his pockets—it even looks like he's whistling. He can't be serious right now.

When Jeno returns to the bunker, he finds you waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, your arms crossed over your chest.

Jeno flashes you the sweetest smile when he sees you, "Hey-"

"What the fuck?" you ask, brows stitched together.

He looks around, confused, "What?"

"What? Where were you?"

"In town," Jeno answers simply.

"You went into town?" you narrowed your eyes.

"Yeah," he mocks your tone as he drops his bag onto the counter with a heavy thud, beginning to unload its contents, "You needed blood. And since you weren't going to drink mine, I just got some more for you," Jeno opens a mini cooler, placing a blood bag in your hand, "Plus I was really starting to get tired of beef jerky and crackers, and decided to grab a few things for myself since I was already out."

You sigh, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions, as you hold the bag of AB blood in your hands. He got your favorite type without even asking. "That was extremely stupid of you, you know," you say, fighting a smile threatening to spread across your face.

"It was worth the risk. I'd rather have another run in with those hunters than let you die of starvation on the hope that our families will come get us in time."

"Seriously, Jeno, if anything had happened-"

"And as you can see, nothing did. I made it back home safe and sound, making sure I didn't leave a trail that could compromise us. You do know I am capable of handling myself right?" he says, "But if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me, sweetheart," he tilts his head at you.

"You're young, of course you don't know any better," you scoff, teasingly rolling your eyes, "What I'm saying is, I hope whatever else you got was worth it."

"It definitely was," he grins, pulling out a bottle of red wine. "Join me?"

"I don't drink ," you tell him.

"I know. I still like your company," You don't know why you feel fluttering in your chest, your heart doesn't even beat. "I mean with all this, I really don't wanna dine alone."

The corners of the lips curl upward, "You're asking me to have dinner with you?"

"Yes," he answers without missing a beat, "I mean it's Friday night, neither of us is going anywhere. What's the harm in a little normalcy role play?"

"Role play? We haven't even made it to dinner yet," you joke. You lean closer, "On one condition."

Jeno leans in as well, a curious smirk playing on his lips "And what might that be, princess?"

. .

The kitchen was filled with a mouthwatering aroma of sizzling meat, rich herbs, and melted butter. It was dimly lit, the only light from the soft under-cabinet lights casting a warm glow over the countertops. One of Draven's old jazz records you found plays softly in the background, its sultry notes weaving through the air.

You sit perched on a barstool by the island, wine glass in hand, watching Jeno concentrate intently on the stovetop. His hair's slightly tousled, a few loose strands falling over his forehead as he focuses on the skillet before him.

"Make sure you sear it evenly on each side," you call out, "You want that perfect crust to lock in the flavor, otherwise, you'll end up with a dry, sad piece of meat."

Jeno turns his head slightly, giving you a sideways look. "Yes, chef," he drawls sarcastically, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Anything else, or are you gonna go back to sitting there looking pretty, silently criticizing my every move?"

"I'm also simply admiring the view," you reply, meeting his eyes and holding them for a beat longer than usual. Jeno's smirk widens, and for a moment, the sizzling of the steak seems louder in the charged silence that follows.

"Where'd you learn all this stuff by the way?" Jeno asks.

"When you've been around as long as I have, you're bound to pick up a few things."

"Wouldn't have taken you for such a food connoisseur."

"Why, because I don't eat?"

"I mean, yeah."

"Well I don't eat anymore. I used to love cooking, when I did though. I loved the satisfaction of a good meal, good wine. It's almost better than sex." you reminisce.

"Almost?"

You laugh, "Let it rest for a few minutes when it's done. Don't rush it. The juices need time to settle."

Jeno nods, stepping away from the stove impatiently hovering, however.

The corner of your mouth lifted. "Patience not one of your strong suits, Lee?"

He scoffs, "I have plenty of patience," he counters, turning off the burner and setting the pan aside. He wipes his hands on a towel, moving closer until he's standing directly in front of you, a playful glint in his eye. "Especially when properly motivated."

You raise an eyebrow, "And what exactly motivates you, Jen?"

"A lot."

"Like?"

Jeno leans in slightly on his elbows, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of the wine on his breath mixed with the aroma of herbs and spices wafting in the air. "Proving you wrong is one thing," he murmurs, gaze locking with yours. "But maybe it's just the way you look at me when I do something right."

You somehow manage to keep your composure, "Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you're doing all this to impress me."

"Is it working?" he asks, eyes hopeful.

"And if it is?"

Jeno steps back, giving you a wicked smile as he turns to plate the steak.

Jeno had finished eating nearly two hours ago, but you two had still not moved from your seats. His empty plate sitting between his second glass of wine and your fourth of AB.

The low hum of the jazz record is now barely noticeable beneath the sounds of your laughter mixed with Jeno's.

You notice his gaze lingering just a little too long every time you meet his eyes, and the way his lips curve into a subtle smirk when you catch him.

Every time his knee brushes against yours under the table, a subtle but deliberate touch, your skin prickles with awareness. You felt the weight of his presence adjacent to you, the air between you simmering like the heat still rising from the abandoned stove.

Jeno's leaning back comfortably in his chair. His eyes study your lips as you take a sip from your glass, watching as you catch a drop of blood from the corner of your mouth with your thumb before licking your finger clean. Jeno holds onto every word that comes out of your lips, and his wavering eyes give him away.

You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, but each movement brought you closer to him, your leg brushing against his, and that simple contact sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"Sorry," you softly apologize, already pulling away. You don't get too far before he's bringing you back.

"Don't be," He gently tugs your leg into his lap. His eyes never leave yours as his hand circles your calf, his touch soft yet confident as he begins to massage your flesh. "Continue," Jeno tells you.

You couldn't even remember what you were talking about. Jeno's eyes bore into yours like he was gazing into your soul, leaving you breathless, your nerves seemingly burning beneath his palm.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by the mounting tension, you stand. You think about clearing the dishes from the table so you can distract yourself from Jeno's eyes quietly undressing you or ignore how good it felt to have his hands on you and how you desperately yearned for more. But just as you're on your feet, Jeno takes your hand, and you let his fingers close around yours.

"You know what you're doing," you murmur accusatorially.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks.

"No," you sheepishly answer unable to look at him.

"Then why are you running, princess?" he asks, getting you to meet his eyes.

"I'm not," you protest.

"You are," he retorts, "Cause you only think it's fair for me to be the flustered one here, huh?"

You roll your eyes, all but verbally confirming his verdict, "You're enjoying this way too much."

"You have no idea," Jeno grins.

You hike up your dress with your free hand and straddle his lap. The space closing between you feels electric, charged with unspoken desire.

You cup his cheek as he snakes an arm around your waist. His skin is warm compared to yours, your fingertips feeling like an icy cold kiss on his cheek. You catch his eyes darting down to your lips once again.

"Do you want something, Jen?"

"Yes," his hand inches up your thigh.

"Then why haven't you asked?"

"Can I ki-" you don't let him finish, crashing your lips into his.

The kiss starts soft and exploratory but quickly deepens as the tension that's been building between you both finally finds release.

His hand travels up your back, sending shivers through you while your own hands take hold of his face, deepening the kiss. The world beyond the two of you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

You taste the sweet bitterness of the red wine on Jeno's tongue as it pushes past your lips, dancing with your own. His hands on your thighs set your skin aflame as they inch up higher and higher. You hum into Jeno's mouth when his hands cup your ass, softly squeezing.

Your hands travel down his chest, and you feel the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt, now wanting it so desperately out of the way. Your hips move on their own accord, dragging against Jeno's, allowing you to feel the outline of his cock through layers of clothes. Jeno comes up for air, heavily panting with swollen lips, staring up at you with lust-drowned eyes.

You barely process the time you spend in the air as Jeno lifts you by your thighs from his lap onto the dining table.

"Has your appetite not been satiated enough Mr. Lee?" you lightheartedly ask, hooking your finger in the belt loop of his jeans, pulling him close, and locking your legs around his hips.

"Not if you think I'm skipping out on dessert," he softly grips your thigh, hungrily attacking your lips once more.

Jeno's lips leave yours, traveling lower. His teeth graze your neck before latching onto the sensitive spot just below your ear. "Jeno," You moan, craning your neck to give him better access while your hands thread through his hair.

Jeno continues his journey south, his tongue flicking out to taste the delicate skin of your collarbone. You shiver, the sensation both ticklish and tantalizing. His hands familiarize themselves with your body, roaming every inch. Cupping your breasts in his large hands, Jeno litters kisses across your chest, gently tugging the neckline of the dress down.

Jeno's eyes darken as he takes in the sight, kneading your flesh, thumbs circling your nipples until they tighten further.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispers into your hair.

"You are," you mewl, your head lulling back.

"You know there's more I could give you."

"What else do you want, Jen?"

"To taste you."

Your words are cut off by a gasp, feeling his warm wet mouth enclose around your areola. The sudden suction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He alternates between sucking and nipping, his teeth sharp enough to elicit cries from you, not of pain but pleasure.

You squirm on the surface of the table, wanting desperately to close your legs and relieve the pressure built between your thighs. Jeno seems to sense this. A plea falls past your lips when Jeno's fingers press into your throbbing clit through your panties.

"I can already smell how wet you are, sweetness." his voice grounds you back to reality, "I need to hear you say you want it."

"I want it," you say breathlessly.

"What?" Jeno questions with a smirk.

"You—god, Jeno, I want you," you roll your hips into his hand, "Please," you couldn't care less about how pathetic of a whine your voice comes out as.

The sounds of dishes and silverware clattering and crashing to the floor don't phase you as you lay down on the table, Jeno silencing your impatient whines with his lips on yours. Jeno then lowers himself between your legs, slowly kissing his way up your inner thighs.

He wastes no more time, not even bothering to properly remove your underwear, only pulling them to the side before kitten-licking your clit. You practically melt, feeling his warm tongue on your pussy. Jeno weakly groans as you entirely overwhelm his senses. He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

"God, I can sit here and eat you all night," Jeno darkly chuckles, savoring your essence covering his lips.

Spit dribbles from Jeno's mouth onto your pussy, his saliva mixing with your arousal before he parts your folds with his tongue. He tugs your clit between his lips, making you loudly moan. The sound was music to Jeno's ears, and he'd give anything to hear it again. He buries his face into your cunt, lapping up all the sweet juices flowing into his tongue.

"Fuck—don't fucking stop," Your eyes roll back into your head, every nerve in your body sparking with ecstasy.

Your hand finds its way into Jeno's hair again, curling around the dark locks, gently tugging. He flattens his tongue, vigorously moving his head side to side. You already feel the knot in your lower stomach tightening, too enamored in the pleasure you're getting from Jeno's mouth alone.

His skilled tongue slivers down to your slit, weaseling inside of you. The wet muscle explores you intimately, curling against your soft walls. Jeno hums approvingly, feeling the way your pussy pulses around his tongue. The vibrations from his mouth reverberate through your entire body, ascending you higher to your climax.

Jeno pulls you closer to the edge of the table, laying his arms flat across the backs of your thighs to keep you from writhing any more than you already have been. He gently pulls the hood of your clit back, swirling and flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You cry out, your legs attempting to push back against Jeno's arms. But his strength doesn't allow for it, and he continues to eat you out like you'd be the last meal the man ever has.

"God, you're too good at this."

"What makes you say that?" he chuckles between shallow breaths.

"You're gonna make me cum."

"Duh, that's the point," a drunken grin stretches across his face, "Come on, I can take it, baby," he tells you before going back to tonguing your clit.

"I don't know, can you?" you tease.

A half-smirk stretches Jeno's face when he finally decides to add his fingers to the mix. Your back arches away from the table, two of his digits stroking your sweet spot in a come hither motion while he tongues your clit.

You cum with a loud curse of Jeno's name. You whimper and writhe atop the dining table, your legs closing around Jeno's ears as he's too concerned with lapping up your juices.

With a whine, you tap Jeno's shoulder, getting him to let up before overstimulation overcomes you. Jeno sat back, licking his lips of remains of your slick, wiping the rest of his face with the back of his hand. He gently rubs your thighs, helping you sit up, one hand holding your waist, the other cupping your face. Jeno's lips reach yours with the taste of you still staining them.

The high of your orgasm simmers down, the euphoric fog lifting. You slip your hand under Jeno's shirt, sliding your hands up his torso until he pulls it off, mindlessly discarding it. Your eyes fall from his face to his defined muscles, subconsciously tugging your lip between your teeth.

You palm Jeno over his jeans, grinning when you feel his semi-hard length in your hand even through the various barriers of clothes.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he groans, slowly rocking his hips into your hand.

Jeno shivers, feeling your tongue run along the side of his neck before you nip his earlobe, "You're one to talk," you say.

"Oh? So has your opinion of me being the hottest Lycan to grace this earth changed now?" he teases.

Of course he heard that.

You poked your cheek with your tongue. "Eavesdropping, were we?" you tilt your head.

"Technically, no. I can just hear everything," Jeno says, "Was kinda hurt though, when you said I was alright."

You laugh, "I'm sorry, babe," you kiss the put on his lips, "But I only said that cause I knew you were listening," you pull him closer, your hands roaming the contours of his body, "I couldn't let you know then how badly I wanted you to fuck my brains out the second we met."

"That makes two of us," Jeno darkly laughs.

Jeno picks you up, barely giving you time to process how fast he moves over to the couch. His hands snake up your thighs, reaching beneath your dress to tear your underwear off your hips. All the while, your fingers swiftly undo Jeno's jeans, pushing them along with his underwear down far enough to let his cock spring free.

"I've barely even touched you. All this just from eating me out?"

A growl deeply reverberates in Jeno's throat when you pump his cock in your hand. You swirl your thumb around the head, smearing his precum around the pink tip.

"Fuck, yeah. You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"And what exactly am I doing, baby?" You tighten your fist around his dick, and a broken whine falls from his lips as you swivel your wrist.

"Fucking killing me," Jeno throws his head back against the couch, "I need you," he desperately claws at your dress.

"I'm right here."

"I need to feel you. Be inside you—for fuck's sake, please." you silence Jeno's pleas with a kiss.

You lift your hips, Jeno assisting you as you guide his cock to your entrance. Your head falls back as you fully sink down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt. Your pussy hugs his length in a vice grip, gently pulsing, slowly sucking him further in.

"Holy shit," Jeno says, his eyes fluttering shut. "you feel fucking amazing,"

You don't even realize that you've moved from the couch until you feel the hard surface of the refrigerator against your back. Your head lands against the door with a soft thud, feeling Jeno deeper inside you in this position. He sets a steady pace, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. You cling to him, your nails digging into his skin, leaving angry red streaks in their wake.

Your face twists into a flustered scowl, "Faster," you demand.

Jeno dryly laughs, "Uh ah, I want you to feel it all, feel what you're doing to me," he slowly draws his hips back before sinking back into your heat even slower, "S'all for you, princess," he rasps.

Jeno takes time to revel in the feeling of your warm wet walls snuggly hugging his cock like a perfect sleeve. You feel every inch of him leave you empty before filling you back up to the hilt. It's torturous how agonizingly slow he's fucking you, and your patience is wearing thin.

"Jeno, please," you cry.

Jeno complied, the corners of his lips turning upward as he drew his hips back before slamming back into you, making your toes curl. The room becomes blurs of motion in your peripheral. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you locked in this primal dance.

You don't notice Jeno's brought you to one of the bedrooms until you're placed on top of a vanity. The sound of the mirror banging against the wall is drowned out by your sensual moans.

Jeno then stops, slipping out of your heat. You shudder now feeling empty, biting your lip to silence a whine.

Jeno takes a step back, never taking his eyes off you. He pushes his jeans down his legs the rest of the way letting them pool at his feet along with his underwear.

The tension is stifling. You let your eyes fall from his face, drinking him in in his entirety. You watch Jeno take his cock into his hand and begin stroking his length.

"Get on the bed," he instructs.

Your lips curl into a mischievous smirk. You slip your dress over your head, throwing it to the floor along with Jeno's clothes.

Jeno already heard the words before they came out of your mouth, "Make me."

He rolls his eyes before throwing you over his shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You land on the mattress with a soft bounce, pushing yourself up on your elbows. You teasingly turn away from Jeno to crawl your way up to the pillows but before you can get too far, Jeno grabs your ankle pulling you back to the edge of the bed.

You arch your hips into the air as Jeno trail his hand down your spine. Jeno runs his fingers between your folds, coating his fingers in your arousal. "God, look at how wet you are just for me, princess," Your jaw drops, feeling one, then two of Jeno's fingers curl against your walls. You push your hips back against his hand, your head falling to the sheets, muffling your low groans.

He parts your folds with the tip of his cock, teasing your clit. You see stars behind your lids, feeling the delicious stretch of your pussy accommodating his size. Jeno's fingernails leave crescent shape impressions on your ass as he spears into your drooling cunt.

Jeno cages you in beneath him with his arms. You feel his chest against your back every time your hips meet. Jeno grabs onto the headboard for leverage. His hips snapping back and forth with a speed and power that leaves you gasping for breath.

Each thrust is deeper than the last, filling you completely and making you feel utterly possessed.

Jeno snakes his arm around your waist, reaching between your thighs. His fingers quickly find your clit, pinching and rolling your bundle of nerves between them. You squirm in Jeno's arms, your body involuntarily twisting and jerking as you feel heat blooming in your abdomen.

Mindless blubber stumbles out of your lips as Jeno kisses the side of your neck.

"What was that, beautiful?"

"Good. So good—god, Jeno," your head falls back into his shoulder.

His arms flex, keeping you flush against his chest. Jeno lowly moans in your ear, feeling your walls flutter around his cock.

"You close, baby?"

"Yes m'so fucking close," you pant.

"Cum for me. Let me feel your pretty pussy cream my cock, sweetheart" he smiles, feeling the way your body reacts to his words.

Your body tenses, preparing for release, and Jeno senses it. With a deep grunt, he doubles down on his efforts, his thrusts growing nearly ferocious in their fervor.

Your fangs grows on the their own volition, triggered by the euphoria coursing through your veins.

"Jeno—fuck!"

Your hips rock along with Jeno's chasing the high of your orgasm. Your nails lightly scrape Jeno's scalp as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your nails dig into Jeno's forearms, just breaking the skin barely drawing blood. The wounds close just as fast as they appear. Jeno deeply grunts, his hips stuttering against yours as his cock twitches from the pain of your nails in his skin. He releases his load inside of you, pumping you full.

"Fuck," Jeno gently pants into your ear.

Jeno's damp skin clings to yours, regardless of the discomfort, you keep holding him close. The steady drum of his heart beating in his chest against your back soothes you out of your post orgasmic stupor.

Your pussy continues to gently flutter around his cock. Jeno pulls out before he's too overstimulated but he's quick to replace his cock with his hand as you slump against his chest. He swallows your moans, your thighs clenching around his hand.

"I'm gonna need a minute," he tells slowly circling your clit, "But my god, you're insatiable. I'd do anything to see those cute fangs again," he teases.

Your lips meet again, and Jeno sucks your bottom lips into his mouth, sinking his teeth in and drawing blood. He smears the blood on your lips before grabbing your jaw and initiating a passionate kiss, the taste of copper staining both of your lips.

"Don't start something you can't finish." You lick the few drops from Jeno's lip, quickly healing the wound before pulling away.

"Oh you know I'll do more than finish it."

SATURDAY [7:29 PM]

You and Jeno both hadn't gone to sleep until the sun had risen, so it's no surprise you find him still sound asleep beside you when your eyes first flutter open. You snuggle closer to Jeno, stealing his body heat as you find it comforting enough to put you back to sleep.

But the sound of a blaring alarm jolted you both out of bed. Jeno had no time to ask any questions as you had exited the room already, without a word. He follows your silent, hastened steps down the hall to the surveillance room.

"What is it?" Jeno asks, eyes bouncing around the screens as you search for what tripped the alarm.

Then, you see four escalades ascending the dirt road. Oh fuck.

[8:39 PM]

The words exchanged between the three men you're watching from afar fall on deaf ears even though you can hear them from this distance. Jeno glances over his father's shoulder at you before reverting his attention back to whatever words coming out of Draven's mouth.

"You two fucked, didn't you?" Tyra asks in a whisper.

"What makes you think that?" you snap your head toward her.

"You almost let your disappointment show when we pulled up," she answers, "Plus, I can smell him all over you."

"I'm not disappointed," you scoff, "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"Not many other people knew about the meeting Draven set up with the Lees. Four of them are dead. The rest are all standing right here."

Tyra's eyes scan the vampires and lycans standing in the underbrush. "Are you saying it's someone here who's working with the humans?"

"It's only a theory. But how else could the humans have known when and where Jeno and I were meeting?"

"Have you shared this theory with your lycan lover?"

"No," you glare at her, "And he's not my lover."

"You don't think he's..."

You shake your head, "No, I don-"

"Think I'm what?" Jeno asks.

You know he was listening to the conversation, "Old enough to be in grown folks business," you tease.

"Haha," he deadpans.

You shoot Tyra a look, and she pretends to find something else to occupy herself with, leaving you and Jeno alone.

"I guess this is it," he sighs.

"No need to shed tears. You'll see me again," you say.

"If that's the case," Jeno slips a piece of paper into your hand, "Call when you start missing me," he smiles.

"As if," you laugh.

You watch Jeno retreat back to his father's car. He looks back at you one last time, shooting you a wink before ducking his head to climb into the vehicle.

"You seem to be extremely fond of the lycan," Draven says.

"He's not bad company," you reply.

"And an even better fu-" A cough interrupts Tyra as you elbow her in the ribs.

"Shall we go home?"

tagged <33: @peachesmilk @doyotint @jaehyunpeachyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @mrsjohnnysuh @binniesbabe @imwutim @marsoverthestars @everything-fine-n-peachy @yukisroom97 @stqrgr7

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long i really thought it would be ready early october but life and shit yk. ty for reading. feedback is appreciated!!

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kwanisms · 3 months ago

Text

Of Hellfire & Saints 01 — k.hongjoong, k.yeosang

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 27.2k (in this part. 50.2k total) summary: After the death of the love of her life, Y/N runs away from the village only to be caught in a heavy storm but she manages to find refuge in Hongjoong's hut in the forest. While waiting out the storm, someone knocks on the door, prompting her to answer the door. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals, pregnancy; attempted SA, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is DARK), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglists moved to reblogs join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. Send a DM or ask to be removed from my taglist. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: the word count on this got away from me and so to make it all fit because i really don't want to edit it down, I've split it into two posts. I had really hoped to keep the word count down after what happened with part one but I really could not stop writing. as I said in the author's notes of the first part, read with care and caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason, a lot of people die. It’s not fun. It’s gruesome. Also keep in mind that every action has a reason. Now that’s out of the way, please enjoy this sequel and keep an eye out for the next part which will be Seonghwa’s backstory. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: there are multiple scenes in this so I will list the warnings for each one here but all of them involved unprotected sex. You do not do this. Use protection, this is fantasy. SCENE 1: table sex, dirty talk, spitting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rough (at times) sex, lowkey love-making, dom!Hongjoong, orgasm denial (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), mild choking (f receiving), praise (f receiving), cum inside, and that’s it on this one! SCENE 2: dry humping, choking (f receiving), table sex, fingering (f receiving), spitting, praise (f receiving), mild degradation (f receiving), cum inside, and that should be all but as always, let me know if i missed something SCENE 3: virgin!Yeosang, mild dirty talk, praise (m receiving), oral (m receiving), grinding, low-key love making (it’s complicated), mild breeding kink, cum inside, slight hair pulling (m receiving) and that should be all of them!

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Outside the atmosphere was eerie, wind whipping through the trees as lightning flashed overhead, deep rumbles of thunder which shook the ground following the lightning. You didn’t stop to look back as you took off, hearing the door to your house open and your father scream after you.

You didn’t stop once, running for the forest. As you reached the large tree that marked the spot between the clearing of your village and the edge of the forest, remnants of a rope hung from a branch, swaying in the wind.

You could feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces as you stared at the rope. All your hopes, dreams, and plans had been hung with that rope and died just like your lover. You didn’t hesitate any longer, dashing into the trees as another yell of your name came, drowned out as the thunder grew louder.

As you ran through the woods, you could hear the sound of raindrops pelting the trees, hitting the ground and few even hitting the top of your head or your shoulders as you continued to run. At first, you weren’t sure where to go but the answer came to you as Hongjoong’s cabin came into view in the darkness.

The lack of light in the window was a solidification that Hongjoong was gone. You continued on, running over, pushing open the gate and letting it swing shut as you reached the door and pushed it open. You shut the door as the skies truly opened up, rain pouring through the trees as lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the wind whipped the trees and vegetation.

Once in the safety of the cabin, you moved to start a fire, first lighting a candle that sat on the table. You then moved to the hearth and managed to start a fire and get it going. You knelt on the floor, looking around the now illuminated cabin as the storm raged outside. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually they would come for you. You would have to finish packing Hongjoong’s things and leave in the cover of night.

A loud clap of thunder made you jump and your eyes landed on the shelf in front of the door to the hidden crawlspace. Your promise to Hongjoong came to the forefront of your mind. “Tomorrow,” you whispered. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

As you turned back to the fire, three loud knocks rang out from the door and you spun around, staring at the wood. You hadn’t latched the door when you came in and you were regretting that now. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the forest briefly.

Your breathing came out in shallow, ragged breaths as you slowly got up. Another three knocks rang out as thunder cracked the skies overhead. Instead of moving to the door, you moved to the window, peering carefully out the window as another flash of lightning illuminated the garden. You couldn’t see anyone standing beyond the door.

As you pulled back, you started to wonder if maybe you were hearing things. You walked over to the door and hesitantly placed your hand on the wood, taking a few deep breaths. A flash of thunder, followed by another clap of thunder rang out and you sighed, letting out a shaky laugh until three more pounds on the door rattled it in place.

You let out an involuntary scream, jumping back and pulling your hand away. You stared at the wood and in a momentary surge of confidence, you grabbed the knob and threw the door open. You peered outside and saw nothing as the storm raged on. The goats were huddled in their shed and the chickens had returned to their coop.

You glanced around once more before backing into the cabin and shutting the door.

As you made your way back to the fire, another clap of thunder preceded three more loud knocks. Now you were getting annoyed. You crossed the cabin, wrenching the door open only to freeze at the sight of a dark figure standing outside the door.

Your words failed you as you watched the figure sway slowly before they turned. The light coming from the cabin was too dim to see that far out the door but when lightning flashed overhead, you couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped you.

Standing less than five feet from you was Hongjoong. He was covered in what seemed to be blood and caked in mud, soaked from head to toe. He had a far off expression, almost as if he were in some kind of trance. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you stared at him.

After a moment, you pulled your hand away, breathing shakily as your hands trembled.

“H-Hongjoong?” you whispered. This seemed to catch his attention. “Y/N?” he asked, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?” You stared at him, shocked that he was even standing in front of you.

“I should be asking you that,” you said as he closed the distance, pulling you into a hug against his soaked form. “How did I get here?” he asked softly, his voice breaking. You wrapped your arms around him, noticing his shaking body.

“Come on,” you said softly, pulling back and guiding him inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get your dried off.” You led him over to the hearth, making him sit down before moving to fetch some dry, clean clothes.

As you moved around, Hongjoong sat still save for his shaking. ‘He must be so cold,’ you thought as you returned to his side. “Why am I covered in dirt?” he asked, looking at his hands which looked to be caked in dirt and mud.

You reached up to start helping him undress. “Let’s get these wet clothes off you,” you murmured. “I’ll get some water to clean you off,” you added, standing up as Hongjoong continued to pull at his clothes. You grabbed the basin from the corner and turned to find Hongjoong standing, his shirt removed.

You let out a gasp and he turned to face you. Your eyes scanned his body, taking in the black vine like pattern that covered a good portion of his torso and arms. He looked down and muttered a curse as you walked over, setting the basin on the table and took his hands, inspecting them.

You dipped a cloth in the water and tried scrubbing his hands but the dirt didn’t budge. It was then you inspected his hands and the markings a little closer. It looked like it had been burned into his skin. “It’s not dirt,” you whispered. “The skin has been… blackened.”

Hongjoong looked up, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “Blackened?” he asked, looking back down. “Burned?” You guided him to sit down, continuing to inspect his skin, wiping away any dirt that you did find. After a couple minutes, you looked up at him, kneeling before him.

“What do you remember?”

Hongjoong looked down at you. “I…” he trailed off. “I don’t remember anything,” he continued, his voice breaking as he looked down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s happened to me!”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, it’s all right,” you said soothingly. “I’m here. Calm down.” He nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths. “Now, tell me what you do remember.” Hongjoong took one more deep breath before speaking.

“I remember a room without windows. It was small. There was a bed, a bedside table, and a wardrobe. I remember seeing Yeosang and… and you,” he explained. You nodded, taking his hands. “That was the room in the church they had you in,” you replied.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed in confusion. “They had me? What do you mean?”

You sighed and stood up, pulling a chair over and sat down. “Hongjoong, do you remember the investigation?” you asked. He stared at you unmoving. “Investigation?” he whispered, looking away for a moment before his eyes moved back.

“They were holding me for questioning,” he said suddenly. You nodded. “Yes, exactly. Jonas and Yeosang had you staying in one of the rooms in the church while they questioned you. The villagers blamed you for the problems in the village. Do you recall that?”

Hongjoong nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “It’s all coming back now. I remember their questions and telling them the truth, that it wasn’t me!” he added. You nodded, taking his hand. “Exactly. The villagers didn’t believe you though, despite Yeosang’s insistence you were innocent. They decided you were guilty anyway and they—”

“They dragged me out of the church,” Hongjoong whispered, his eyes on your hands. “They dragged me out of the church and took me to the edge of the forest.” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “They’d hung a rope from the tree,” Hongjoong whispered.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Did they… kill me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Am I dead?” The tears finally broke past your shield and you nodded, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“Then… what am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. He reached out to touch the table. “I can feel everything. The table, the floor, your hand,” he explained. His gaze looked up once more. “Do you remember anything else?” you asked.

“I remember darkness. The creak of the rope and then silence. It was so silent. And dark. It was so fucking dark, Y/N. I tried to scream but I couldn’t even hear myself. And then there was this intense, blinding light,” he choked out between sobs.

“And then I fell,” he gasped. “I fell for what felt like an eternity and it was still so dark. The light just disappeared. And then it just… stopped.” Your heart ached as he explained his experience. “That must have been after I died,” he murmured.

“And then I heard a voice,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Your voice.”

You were caught off guard as you stared at him. “M-my voice?” He nodded.

And then it was gone. Silence again until I felt this pain. This intense, crippling pain. It was like I was being burned, all over my body,” he said and froze. Both your eyes trailed down to the scorch-like vines that littered his arms and torso.

Delicately, you traced one of the lines and looked up at Hongjoong. “Does it hurt?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “No,” he answered. “If anything… I can’t feel it. When you touch the skin, I don’t feel anything.”

You moved your hand, pressing your fingers against his non charred flesh. “What about that?” you asked. “Do you feel that?” Hongjoong nodded, looking down at your fingers. “Yes,” he said softly. Neither one of you said anything for what felt like a long time before he finally cleared his throat.

“I also remember laughter,” he continued in a trembling voice. “Not joyous laughter,” he added. “More maniacal. More… delirious.” You stared up at him as you listened, letting his words process. “And the pain…” his voice trailed off as he choked back a sob.

You pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” you said softly. It’s going to be alright,” you whispered. Your dress muffled the sound of his sobs as his body shook. You did your best to calm him, keeping a firm hold on him. You wanted to comfort him the way he always comforted you.

It took a few minutes for Hongjoong’s sobs to finally subside and when they did, you continued to rub his back for comfort. He pulled back, taking a deep breath. “And then,” he started. “It all just stopped.”

You took his face in your hands, wiping his tears away. “I woke up in the dark.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “You… woke up?” you asked, repeating his words. He nodded. “I felt around and all I could feel was wood. I knocked on it and it was hard but there wasn’t an echo.”

“The coffin,” you whispered. ‘At least they had the decency to put his body in a coffin,’ you thought before shaking your head slightly. “What happened after that?” you asked, caressing his cheek. “I summoned a ball of light and could see that I was in a coffin,” he explained. “And then, I don’t know what happened to me but it’s like I suddenly grew stronger.”

“I was able to break through the wood and claw my way through the dirt, pulling myself up out of the mud. And then I just started… walking,” he finished. You watched as he sat back and reached out, placing a hand on his. “I think when I was walking, I blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was standing in the rain and heard your voice.”

You sat unmoving, listening to his story with rapt attention. “And now… I don’t know what to think. Am I dead? Am I alive?” he whispered. You got up, grabbed the rag from the table, and dipped it into the basin. “Let’s worry about the formalities later,” you said as you wrung out the excess water and turned to Hongjoong. “First, let’s get you clean.”

Hongjoong nodded, sitting up as you moved to stand in front of him and took his chin gently in your hand as you carefully started to wipe the dirt, mud, and blood from his face. As your hand moved down, wiping the skin of his neck, your eyes fell on the bruising.

‘From the rope.’

Hongjoong noticed your hesitation and took your hand, pulling it to his face and pressing the back of your hand to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I missed your touch,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. You could stop the small smile from forming on your face as you turned your hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look up at you.

“No more than I missed yours,” you countered with a chuckle. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, grabbing the material of your dress and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your stomach. “I missed this,” he said, his voice muffled as you combed your fingers through his hair. “I missed being here with you. Being alone together.”

“I missed it too,” you replied, brushing his hair back as he looked up at you. “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you said softly to which Hongjoong nodded. “I promise, Starlight,” he whispered. Your smile grew and you casually wiped a fleck of mud off his cheek.

“You’ll have to take a bath tomorrow after the storm passes,” you said softly. “At the stream. It should be flooded now with all this rain,” you added, waving your hand as you turned back to the basin. Hongjoong stood, moving to stand behind you.

“Then why don’t we both take one tomorrow,” he suggested, resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled as his hands slid up your hips to your waist, holding you in place. “I’m not even dirty,” you countered as you wrung out the rag.

You felt Hongjoong press into you from behind, his hard cock pressing against your backside. “That can be rectified,” he whispered in your ear, one hand sliding to your stomach before moving down, pulling up the hem of your skirt. “Hongjoong,” you started, words failing you as his hand dipped under your dress, sliding between your thighs and finding your clit with ease.

A moan escaped past your lips at the feeling and you leaned against the table, keeping your balance by pressing your hands against the wood. “You smell so good,” you heard Hongjoong whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Makes me want a taste,” he added, tongue darting out to lick up the side of your neck, making you gasp. His hands moved to your hips, turning you around to face him before smashing his lips against yours, parting your lips with his and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, muffling a groan.

Your back pressed against the edge of the table and Hongjoong pulled back to push the basin aside, knocking it and the water to the floor before he lifted you onto the table, pulling your dress up and ducking his head under the skirt.

You let out a moan, head falling back against the wood as his tongue met your clit, tracing around it and dancing over it. Your thighs rested on his shoulders as he licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, unrestrained.

You felt his nails dig into the plush flesh of your thighs as he continued to lick and suck. You reached down, fingers knotting into his hair as he shook his head and before you could fall over the edge, he pulled back, inspecting his work.

You tried to protest but felt two fingers enter you slowly, a slight sting to the stretch that was quickly replaced with a dull ache. He moved, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly speeding up as his tongue returned to your clit, flicking against it rapidly.

Your orgasm came hurtling towards you, crashing over you quickly and making your legs shake as you chanted his name in quick succession. When the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he stood. He leaned over you, pulling you into a messy, passionate kiss as he started to undo your dress and peel it from your body.

Your own hands moved to his pants, undoing the ties and letting them fall as he pulled the last of your clothes off. He left a trail of light kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at your collar before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Tongue swirling around it as he kneaded the other with his hand. You ran your fingers through his hair as he lifted his head, his heated gaze sending a fresh wave of arousal throughout your body.

As if he could smell it, Hongjoong pulled back, looking down at your wet sex. He spread your folds with his thumbs and groaned at the sight. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured. “I missed this cunt so much,” he added. You let out a whine, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for him to fill you up with his cock.

“Is my Starlight impatient?” he cooed, looking up at you, giving you a smirk. You nodded, letting out another whine in an attempt to entice him. Hongjoong looked back down and you watched as he let a drop of saliva fall onto your sex. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed against your clit, gathering as much of your slick and his spit and coating the head of his cock.

He guided the head to your aching hole and looked up, meeting your gaze as he pushed into you, lips parting in a silent moan as his eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm walls enveloping him.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he slid in, unrestrained, until his hips were flush with your ass. He repositioned your thighs, pushing them further apart and against your sides, allowing him to slip in just a little further. You let out a groan, feeling completely full of nothing but his cock.

“God I missed this,” he gasped, looking down where your bodies connected. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock reappear before slowly pushing back into you, letting out a moan. He repeated this, setting a very slow pace. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, just enough to keep you both on the edge.

You tried to meet his movements but he held you firmly in place. “I’m in control here, Starlight,” he said, his voice low. You looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, Hongjoong,” you whispered. “Please fuck me.” Hongjoong let out a groan, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before he pulled you up into a sitting position. “Hold onto me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you off the table, carrying you over to the bed where you both fell, his cock never leaving you. Once you were on your back on the mattress, he resumed his movements, thrusting hard but slow into you, making you gasp with each thrust.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he murmured as he continued to rock into you. “I did that last time,” he added. “This time, I’m going to do what I should have done for your first time and make love to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued his rough thrusts but kept the pace slow, taking his time drawing it out for as long as he could. It was enough to keep your orgasm building but it was a slow build. You were growing impatient but didn’t say anything, not when it felt so good.

Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts before he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him and taking your hands. “Ride me,” he whispered. You hesitated, looking down at him. Of all the times you and Hongjoong had been sexually intimate, you’d never been on top, he’d always been in control and on top of you, regardless if you were on your back or your stomach.

“I’ve never…” you trailed off as he placed your hands on his chest, taking your hips in his and slowly lifted you. “Now back down,” he said softly, guiding you to sink back down, his cock sliding into you once more. “That’s right,” he whispered, helping you lift your hips.

“Now you control the speed,” he added. “Lean forward a little,” he added, moving one hand to the middle of your back and pressing forward. You followed his guidance, leaning forward slightly and moving your hands to the mattress, placing them on either side of his head as you raised and lowered your hips.

Each time you came back down on him, his cock fit snugly inside you, reaching deep. “You can go faster than that,” Hongjoong urged, reaching up to pull you against his chest before taking your hips and guiding your movements.

He thrust up to meet your movements, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with the wet sound of his cock plunging into your cunt repeatedly. “Oh f-” you gasped, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m gonna—” your words were cut off by Hongjoong lifting your hips, ripping your orgasm away from you.

“Hongjoong!” you whined as he sat up, pushing you onto the bed beside him and bending you over. He entered you from behind, setting the same pace as before, pounding into you from behind. “Oh fuck,” you cried out, burying your face into the sheets. You felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hip lessen before a sharp smack rang out, your ass stinging.

He ran his hand over the spot soothingly. You clenched around him as he landed another blow to the other side and moaned loudly into the mattress. Hongjoong leaned forward, pushing you down against the mattress as he pinned you down with his weight.

He rolled his hips, driving his cock deep into you. You let out a scream of pleasure into the pillows, prompting him to wrap a hand around the front of your neck and pull your head up. “Let me hear that again,” he panted into your ear, rolling his hips once more. You tried to hold back, letting out a strained groan instead.

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Hongjoong said, thrusting into you harshly. A scream ripped from the back of your throat, filling the cabin. “I’ve never made you scream before,” he said as he rolled his hips, enjoying the way you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his cock.

“Have I, Starlight?”

You shook your head, letting out another scream when he thrust into you again. “Does it feel good?” he asked, resuming the same pace from before, pounding into you, keeping a firm hold on you as his hand moved from your throat to cup your chin and jaw.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” he asked again, punctuating his question with another harsh thrust, making you choke on a scream. “When I fuck you like this?” Words failed you as he continued to slam into you, the only sound you could make were moans and the occasional cry of pleasure.

“Feel’s so good,” Hongjoong grunted into your ear. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing your head down onto the side as he picked up the pace, slamming into you at a brutal pace, the sound of his hips hitting your ass drowning out your small whimpers and whines. It was rough. Rougher than he’d been before but it felt so good.

He suddenly slowed his pace, rolling his hips slowly to prolong your pleasure. “You still with me, Starlight?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You nodded weakly. Hongjoong pulled back, pulling out of you and carefully rolled you onto your back. He slotted himself between your thighs, slipping back into you and slowly thrusting into you.

“Look at me,” he murmured and you wearily opened your eyes, his smile greeting you. “There’s my girl,” he said, cupping your cheek. His thrusts picked up in speed, angled and precise as he tried to get you back up to the edge.

“Come on darling,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek and down to your lips. “Open up for me,” he added softly. You parted your lips and moaned as he spit into your mouth. He resumed a quicker pace, thrusting into you, each movement making your already weak body bounce.

“You going to cum for me?” he whispered. “Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” he asked. You nodded weakly, whimpering as your orgasm started to build. Hongjoong’s hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbed circles around it quickly.

“That’s it,” he panted, his thrusts growing more erratic and less precise as he tried to get you to fall over the edge first. “That’s it, come on,” he groaned. Your back arched off the bed, your orgasm hitting you in waves, your body shuddering as your thighs shook, a mantra of moans mixed with his name leaving your lips.

Hongjoong was quick to follow, burying his face in your neck as he let out a low moan, thrusting weakly into you as he came. His hot seed filled you and some of it even started to spill out as his cock continued to twitch until at last, he stopped thrusting.

You both laid there for several minutes, panting and covered in sweat until Hongjoong finally pulled out of and rolled off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him start to stir and you fell into a deep slumber.

You woke the next morning in a daze. The storm had mostly passed during the night but it was still raining, drops falling softly onto the roof and hitting the glass panes of the windows. You sat up, groggily, and let out a moan of discomfort as a dull ache settled between your thighs.

Looking around, you noticed the cabin was empty. You glanced to the table where the chairs looked like they hadn’t been moved. The floor was clear of water and the basin was sitting in its frame in the corner, the rag hanging on the hook beside it.

You checked the floor and saw your clothes had been moved, folded neatly and sitting on the trunk that sat under the front window of the cabin by the door. Hongjoong’s clothes, and his being for that matter, were nowhere to be seen.

You scratched your head, looking around, wondering if last night had been nothing more than a strange dream. You let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the bed, staring up at the underside of the roof as you wracked your brain, trying to remember anything other than the feeling of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you or the intense pleasure you were certain you felt last night.

‘What if it was merely a dream?’ you wondered, moving your hand to brush your fingertips over your lips. ‘What if Hongjoong wasn’t here and I just dreamt the entire thing?’ A sadness started welling up in your chest as you lay there, fighting the urge to cry as you remembered what transpired the night before you came to the cabin.

After the fight with your father, you couldn’t go back to the village. But you couldn’t stay here. You sat up and looked around once more, eyes falling on the shelf that covered the hidden panel. “The box,” you whispered. You hadn’t done it last night because of the storm but you could do it today. ‘Yes,’ you said to yourself.

“I’ll get dressed, make a quick breakfast and pack,” you whispered, glancing over to where your clothes sat. “Just the essentials so I can leave this place. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for me.”

Before you could move, another thought hit you and a fresh wave of sadness washed over you.

‘Yeosang…’

You wondered if you would ever see the priest again but you were almost certain that you would not. Not once you left everything behind to start a new life somewhere far, far away from the village. You would miss aspects of your life near the forest but you couldn’t go back. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

As you started to move, the front door latch turned, opening the door and you looked up, eyes wide as Hongjoong entered the cabin, carrying what looked like a basket. He was dressed, not in the clothes you had dreamt him in last night, but in some clean ones. He lowered his hood and turned, a smile gracing his face as he saw you sitting up in bed.

“You’re awake!” he said, his voice cheerful as he walked over to the table, setting the basket down. He removed his cloak, draping it over the back of one of the chairs and turned, crossing the distance to where you sat on the bed, sheets pulled up to cover your chest as you watched him, wide-eyed.

“I went to fetch some eggs,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I thought some breakfast might be nice,” he added, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ve also got some bacon. We could have that too, if you’d like?” You nodded wordlessly as he spoke. Hongjoong’s smile widened as he leaned in again, kissing you once more.

“Would you like to help me?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours. You nodded again. “Y-yes,” you stuttered, your throat going dry. Hongjoong bumped the tip of his nose against yours and pulled back. “Then get up, Starlight. Put some clothes on.”

He got up and headed back over to the table, leaving you breathless on the bed as your thoughts swirled about in your mind. ‘He’s… alive. So I wasn’t dreaming?’ You sat motionless on the bed, staring at Hongjoong, watching as he bustled about, setting a spider skillet over the fire and letting it heat up.

You moved slowly and carefully, crawling across the bed to grab your clothes from the trunk. Hongjoong used a small amount of what looked to be lard to grease the skillet and looked up as you returned to your spot, sheets still covering your chest as you unfolded your clothes. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“You know you don’t have to hide your body from me,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “I’ve seen everything,” he reminded you as he returned his gaze to the fire and resumed his work. “Multiple times.” Your cheeks burned and you let the sheets drop to your lap, picking your chemise back up and unfolding it. You pulled it on over your head before getting out of the bed.

Hongjoong watched you from where he was perched by the fire, waiting for the skillet to heat up. His eyes followed your every movement as you dressed in silence, pulling your dress on and making sure all the buttons were done up properly before you turned around to face him.

“What can I help with?” you asked, snapping him out of a sort of trance. He looked back at the fire before looking up. “Could you grab the bacon for me?” he asked. “It should be in the barrel over there,” he added, nodding in the direction of a barrel that stood in the front corner of the cabin.

You crossed the distance and pried open the barrel, finding what he was looking for and returned the lid, sealing the barrel before moving over to the hearth. You knelt down, letting out a whine as you reached his level. Hongjoong raised his gaze, a look of concern on his face as you handed him the bacon. “Are you alright, Starlight?” he asked, taking the package in one hand and taking your chin in the other.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Just sore.” A look of realization passed over Hongjoong’s face before a smirk took its place. “I see,” he murmured. “Sorry about that, my love.” He pulled you in for a kiss before pulling away and turning to start placing strips of bacon in the skillet. “You just rest while I cook, alright?” he said, to which you shook your head.

“Really, I’m all right,” you insisted. “I can help you.” Hongjoong smiled as he added another slice of bacon which started to sizzle the moment it touched the hot pan. “If you insist,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You glanced down, noticing his hands and grabbed one, pulling it up to inspect. Hongjoong smiled, watching you turn his hand over and pull the cuff of his sleeve up to inspect his mysteriously clear skin. You were positive the night before his skin was charred, blackened and that it extended up his arms in swirling, vine-like patterns across his torso.

“I was surprised, too,” he admitted. “I woke up and it was gone. All the scorch marks. None of it remained.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “I thought I dreamt last night,” you whispered, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. Hongjoong caressed your cheek. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly.

“When I woke up, you were gone and the basin had been picked up and your clothes were gone,” you continued. “I thought last night had been some cruel dream, reminding me of what happened last night,” you said, a sob escaping you. Hongjoong pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m right here, Starlight,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what happened to me,” he added. “But I’m here and that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest as you clung to him, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “I’m not letting you go this time,” you whispered. Hongjoong chuckled, the motion making your body bouncy slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I don’t intend to go anywhere without you ever again.”

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and some bread, you set about helping Hongjoong clear things up. Hongjoong had set the dishes aside to be washed and while you were busy washing them in a pan of hot water and soap, Hongjoong brought the last piece, the spider skillet over now that it was cool to handle.

He stood beside you as you washed, grabbing a rag. “Let me help,” he said, moving to grab the already washed dishes. “That way we can finish quickly and maybe go for a walk or something,” he said with a smile. “Maybe go see the wildflower field?”

You worked mostly in silence except for Hongjoong’s occasional humming until you set aside the last dish which he picked up to dry. “Shall we put these away?” you asked, drying your hands as you turned to look at him. He nodded wordlessly, still humming as the two of you grabbed the now clean dishes to put away.

Hongjoong put them away while you wiped down the table. As you were working, you felt him sneak up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he peppered kisses up the side of your neck, making you giggle.

“That tickles,” you giggled, trying to pull away but he held you firmly in place. You felt his nose brush against the spot just under your ear and heard him breath in deeply. “You smell really, really good,” he murmured. You tried to turn in his hold but he was too strong.

“Hongjoong,” you started but let out a moan the next second as you felt his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. “Makes me want another taste,” he added, pressing you against the table as he grinded against you.

You steadied yourself, pressing your hands against the table and let out another shaky moan as he rolled his hips again. “H-Hongjoong,” you gasped, his hands gripping your skirt tightly as he continued to grind into your backside. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he could draw out your arousal and how easily your body gave in and responded to him.

Hongjoong let out a growl, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat, holding you back against him tightly. “I really can’t wait,” he growled into your ear. “Please, can I take you right here?” You nodded with a whimper, your hands moving to help him pull your skirt up. Once he had it up, his free hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips gathering your wetness and spreading your lips to find your clit.

From this angle, it was a much different experience as his fingers sank into your heat, your walls welcoming the intrusion without hesitation. “Fuck, you’re so warm,” he groaned, pumping his fingers in and out of you with ease as your arousal started to drip down the inside of your thighs. You let out a moan, head dropping as your hands caught you before you fell to the table.

Hongjoong removed his fingers from your cunt, instead moving to untie his pants and push them down just enough to free his cock. He brought the same hand that had been inside you to your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered. You did as he said, spitting into his hand which he then used to coat the shaft of his cock before taking it and aligning the head with your slit, gathering your juices with the tip before pushing into you.

You let out an unrestrained moan as he slid into you, bottoming out rather quickly. He released your throat, gently pushing you down until your chest rested against the table. He hiked the rest of your skirt up, exposing your backside to him as he grabbed your hips and started a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully, watching his cock disappear into you.

Your hands moved, grabbing into the edge of the table as he increased speed, watching your cunt swallow him greedily. The steady pants you’d been releasing soon turned into wanton moans as he rocked into you, each thrust hard and deep.

“F-fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward as he continued his assault on your core, the sound of his skin hitting yours with each powerful thrust. “So fucking good,” he growled. “You take my cock like you were made for it, sweetheart.” You let out a whimper as you felt his nails dig into your skin. “So soft, pliant, and vulnerable,” you heard him whisper. “And entirely mine.”

You cried out as he thrust harder. “Does that feel good?” he cooed, a slight hint of condescension to his voice. You’d never heard him like that before. “You like it when I bend you over and fuck you like this?” he asked. His voice sounded… off. Almost like it wasn’t just him speaking but another voice was speaking with him.

“When I fuck you like a whore?”

You gasped, eyes snapping open and you tried to push yourself up but he stopped you. “What’s the matter, little lamb?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don’t like being called that? You didn’t seem to mind when I called you a bitch in heat,” he continued.

“Or should I call you my whore?” he whispered. “Is that what does it for you? Being possessed?”

Your body succumbed to him, walls fluttering around him as you came with a moan. Hongjoong continued, hips never faltering as he pounded into you. It only took a few more minutes before he finally came with a growl, hips stuttering as he released into you, cum filling your cunt and spilling past his cock to drip to the floor and seep down the inside of your thighs.

You’d never known him to cum that much before. It was almost inhuman. As you both came down from your respective highs, Hongjoong littered kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring praise and apologies for what he’d said in the heat of the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Starlight,” he whispered into your ear. “That was too far.” While you agreed with him, you shook your head. “It’s alright,” you whispered back, not wanting to further upset yourself or the moment. You could always talk to him later about it, knowing he would listen to you no matter what.

After cleaning up again, you assisted Hongjoong with his chores for the rest of the morning, having a quick lunch and then going back to work.

The meadow would have to wait.

A week passed by and you were surprised that no one came looking for you but in the same vein, you were also glad no one had sought you out. Not because you feared being dragged back but because you feared what might happen to Hongjoong if someone were to learn he was alive again.

You’d tried in vain to persuade him to pack up the cabin and leave. He had said if no one came looking for you after a week, perhaps it was a sign the two of you could live in the forest, undisturbed, and build your life together there.

As your time with Hongjoong increased, so did his sexual appetite. Every morning, as soon as you were both awake, he had his mouth and hands on you, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm before finally sliding into you. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. Each time, he grew more and more rough and sometimes mean but afterwards, he always showered you in affection and attention, apologizing for taking things too far.

While it was certainly a change in personality, it only seemed to be present when you had sex. Otherwise, he was just as normal as ever. He was his usual sweet, doting, cheerful self, making you laugh and kissing your face until you giggled.

You had nothing to compare it to but for the few minutes he was rougher, it was merely a blip in the relationship you had outside of sex. Perhaps this was just one of the changes his brush with death had created.

How wrong you would come to be.

As you woke one morning, more than a week since Hongjoong’s return, you rolled over, reaching for Hongjoong, only to find his spot on the bed empty. Your eyes fluttered open and you half expected to see him standing by the table or crouched by the hearth. He wasn’t in either place. You gathered the sheets and sat up, glancing around the cabin and found no sign of him.

You got up, dressing quickly, and pulled on your boots. Once dressed, you opened the cabin door and peered out into the garden but found it empty except for the goats. You stepped out, letting the door shut behind you as you wandered out, looking around the forest.

You still saw no sign of Hongjoong and decided to check the stream which was where you usually collected water. The forest was alive, sunlight filtering through the trees to dance on the forest floor in patches of light.

Birds chirped and chittered happily as you made your way to the stream, following the path that led from Hongjoong’s place to the stream and beyond, running deeper into the forest. You’d only ever taken this path to the stream but never ventured further so you weren’t sure where it led or what was deeper into the darkest reaches of the forest.

As you neared the stream, noticing the trees thinning out a little, you caught sight of a figure kneeling at the water’s edge and smiled as you recognized Hongjoong’s mess of dark hair. You quickened your pace with a skip and rounded the bend in the path, smile widening as he came into view.

“There you are!” you called, noticing he didn’t even flinch when you spoke. As you drew closer, the sounds of the forest started to wane, birds in trees nearby took flight in squawks that sounded like cries of fear as they flew overhead and away from the area.

You noticed how the forest grew darker, like clouds blotting out the sun and the wind picked up, blowing the hem of your skirt around but still you continued forward. These were merely natural occurrences. The birds probably flew because you walked into the area, twigs breaking under your feet and startling them.

Clouds moved over the sun all the time and the wind often accompanied the movement of clouds. There was nothing sinister or otherworldly about it. You drew closer to Hongjoong, a new determination in your step as you walked over the dirt.

“Hongjoong?” you called, the forest around you now silent except for the wind.

“Stay back,” you heard him say. His voice sounded different again. Not unlike how he sounded the morning after his return but the second, deeper voice, was much… stronger this time. Something was definitely wrong.

“Joong?” you asked, moving even closer. “I said stay back!” he shouted, causing you to freeze momentarily. He really did not sound like his normal self but it only strengthened your resolve to see what was going on and if he was okay.

You ignored his warning as well as the warning in your own gut as you finally reached where he was crouched. “Hongjoong, are you feeling well?” you asked, leaning down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The moment your hand touched his shoulder, you pulled back, almost as though you’d been burned. He pulled away, turning so you couldn’t see him. “I said stay back,” he repeated. You could barely hear his voice, the deeper voice was more dominant.

You let out a huff and tried again, this time, grabbing him by the shoulder and attempting to turn him to face you. This time, you didn’t feel as though you’d been burned but Hongjoong reacted in a way you weren’t expecting.

He lashed out, throwing his arm back and pushing you to the ground. “LEAVE ME,” he growled, his voice sounding much deeper. Much more… demonic. You gasped as he looked over his shoulder at you. His face had changed. His eyes were no longer the dark, warm brown but instead two different irises full of fire looked back at you, surrounded by black.

Two small horns had poke through the surface of his skin just where his hairline started, the skin around them looked irritated and red, almost like a wound. The black marks that had covered his skin when he first returned were back, hands blackened but now the marks extended up his neck to his face.

You scooted back a couple paces, staring at him in shock and horror. As you stared at one another in the silent forest, you finally took a deep breath and got to your feet, watching as Hongjoong mimicked you, getting to his feet slowly. You took a step forward.

“Hongjoong?” you asked as he turned to face you fully. He tilted his head to the side with a sickening crack. “Hongjoong?” he repeated in that same devilish voice, almost as if he was taunting you. A shiver ran up your spine but you chose once again to ignore the alarm bell in your own mind. That wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was making sure Hongjoong was okay.

“What happened to you?” you asked, taking another step forward. Hongjoong didn’t move as you continued, stopping a few paces from him and started to circle him, checking over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured. When you had put him between you and the stream, he moved. It was much too quickly for you to see but he turned at once to face you, standing up straight. You jumped and let out a squeak of surprise.

“Are you all—”

You couldn’t finish your question as he quickly had crossed the distance between you and you felt your back hit a tree, forcing a sound of pain from you as he pinned you against it, his hand closing around your throat. This was a huge contrast from the way his hand would go around your throat during sex. He was actually squeezing, cutting off your air supply.

You fought against him, trying to pull his hand away. “Please,” you whispered breathlessly. “I can’t breathe. Hongjoong,” you choked out. When you said his name, it snapped him out of it and he immediately let go of your throat, taking a step back.

You crumbled to the base of the tree, coughing as you reached up to massage your neck. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes had shifted back to normal, the same warm brown but they looked panicked, scared even.

He looked down at his hands, looking at his change in form. The blackened skin, the nails that had sharpened into claws at the tips of his fingers. He looked back up at you. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so…” he trailed off, looking around the forest. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice soft and full of fear. His gaze returned to you as you stood up, noticing the irritated skin of your neck.

“Oh g— did I do that?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. You tried to dismiss his concern, insisting you were fine but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and stopping when he felt the small horns on his forehead.

“What is happening to me?” he whispered, fingers gripping his hair as he stumbled backwards, boots splashing in the stream waters. You stepped forward but he held a hand out. “No!” he shouted, his voice normal but echoing around the forest. “Don’t come any closer. You need to leave. I can’t…” he trailed off, eyes falling to your neck again.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice full of anguish. Before you could say anything, he turned and took off, much faster than you could see and suddenly, you were standing alone in the forest. You reached up to massage your neck again, wincing at the tenderness.

You had no idea which way Hongjoong had gone or even how far he’d gone so instead of attempting to follow him, you decided to return to the cabin, hoping at some point he’d come back. The walk back seemed to take ages and you were just returning as the sun set and you wondered if maybe you’d wandered aimlessly before finally reaching the cabin because how could you leave in the morning and return so late?

You pushed open the gate and stopped to feed the goats before heading inside, shutting the door behind you. You sat in one of the chairs at the table, staring at the wood in a sort of semi-conscious state before you shook yourself mentally.

You decided to make some tea and wait for Hongjoong to return. If he didn’t return that night, maybe he would come back the next morning. You poured the tea into a mug and let it steep for a while before finally taking a sip, letting out a sigh afterwards.

The sound of distant thunder made you look up, worried that Hongjoong was out in the forest on his own with the threat of a storm looming in the distance. “He’ll be okay,” you whispered to yourself. “He’ll be back and we’ll make up and be okay. It’s going to be fine.”

You weren’t sure how much time passed but you heard the front gate open and turned in your seat as the front door opened. Hongjoong appeared, his appearance had mostly gone back to normal, save for the horns and his hands.

He looked up as he entered, looking shocked to find you sitting at the table.

“Why did you come back?” he asked as he shut the door and moved over to the fire, kneeling to add more logs. You stared at the back of his head, looking incredulous. “Why did I come back?” you repeated his words. “Because I love you! Why wouldn’t I come back?”

Hongjoong winced slightly. “You should have left,” he whispered. You stared at him, appalled that he would even suggest you running away or abandoning him. “And go where?” you asked, attempting to conceal the hurt in your voice.

“Anywhere but here,” Hongjoong replied, his voice sounding flat and lifeless.

You froze, the room growing silent except for the crackling of the fire. After a few moments, you got up and walked over behind him, kneeling down and wrapping your arms around him. Hongjoong didn’t fight it, instead accepted the gesture and gently grabbed your arm, leaning his head into yours that rested on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the fire. “I don’t know either,” you replied. “But we’re going to face it and figure it out,” you continued, turning him to look at you. “Together,” you added. “Why?” Hongjoong asked, eyeing your neck, a fresh wave of sadness and disappointment crossing his face.

“After what I did, why would you stay?”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Because I love you, damn it,” you replied. “I’m not giving up on you. I never did before so why would I now?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered between yours before dipping down to your lips briefly. You leaned in, granting him his silent wish, pressing your lips to his. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back as he laid you down on the floor of the cabin, in front of the fire.

“I love you so much,” you muttered against his lips, pulling back to look at him, your thumb brushing over his lips. He leaned into your touch, eyes shut as he sighed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, his lips parting yours and tongue slipping past into your mouth. As the kiss grew in passion, his hands started to move, pulling your skirt up.

Under any other circumstance, you would give in easily because you loved it when he made love to you but right now was not the right time. “Hongjoong,” you said as he left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Stop.”

He didn’t seem to hear you so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hongjoong, stop it,” you repeated, moving to grab his hands only for him to snatch you by the wrists and pin them down above your head with one hand. He went back to pulling the hem of your skirt up as you fought against him but his strength was shocking and you’d never noticed how strong he had become.

Finally you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you. “I said stop!”

Your voice snapped him out of it and he immediately pulled away, scooting back as you pulled yourself away, watching as he stood up and turned away from you. “You need to leave,” you heard him say, his voice wavering.

You started to pull yourself up. “Hongjoong?” you called, taking a hesitant step forward, the exchange in the forest earlier coming to mind. “I can’t control it anymore,” he whispered. “What are you saying?” you whispered. “You need to run before I…” Hongjoong trailed off.

You froze as he turned his head slowly, his brown eyes replaced with the same demon-like eyes, fiery red irises shrouded in black. The scorch marks returned to the skin of his neck, extending up onto his face. His lips parted in a devilish grin, exposing his now sharpened teeth.

You backed away, bumping into the table with a dull thud as you shook your head in disbelief. Terror filled your chest as he stared back at you with a taunting gaze. “H-Hongjoong?” you stammered, heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was firing off, hair standing on end as he turned fully to face you.

He’d changed again and something told you that this time, he wouldn’t be reverting back. He took a step forward, still watching you with those unnerving eyes. You were trapped between him and the table, your only form of escape being the door on the other side of the table,

You glanced back at it, finding it unlatched and unlocked. You looked back at Hongjoong, gasping as he seemed to grow in stature with the absence of your gaze. He now towered over you. “Poor little Y/N,” he said, the voice coming out of him not his. There wasn’t even a trace of his voice left. It was whatever had taken control of him.

“All alone in the forest with the big, bad, wolf,” the voice coming from Hongjoong continued.

“You should run,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, as if this was funny to him.

“Run little Lamb,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “Run.”

He lunged for you and you grabbed the mug of hot tea, splashing it at him and hitting him square in the face. Hongjoong let out an inhuman screech, hands moving to cover his face as he backed away, giving you a chance to round the table and make for the door.

He let out a roar behind you as you opened the door, slamming it shut and rushing for the gate. The goats were bleating in fear as they ran around the garden, chickens clucking and squawking from the coop. You pushed the gate open and ran out onto the forest path.

Knowing it would take too long to follow the path, you started off it, picking up your skirt and jumping over fallen logs and branches as you ran away from the cabin in the direction of the village.

The sound of wood splintering rang out as Hongjoong undoubtedly broke through the door. Another roar rang out, sending chills up your spine as you picked up the pace, not pausing to look behind you. Heavy footfalls sounded behind you and you knew he had given chase.

You hurtled over fallen trees and branches, skipping over boulders as you ran for the edge of the forest, hoping for some reason he might not follow you into the village. It was a long shot but it might be worth it.

Yeosang had spent the last week taking up the task of patrolling the village at night, agreeing to do so after learning you had run away into the forest. He’d been too late to save Hongjoong, reaching the edge of the forest where the men had strung him from the tree branch. It was a sight he could not stomach and had violently gotten sick.

In the aftermath, he had hoped he might be able to save you but when he arrived at your parents’ home and learned of the fight and that you had nearly stabbed your father in what they called a fit of unchecked rage, Yeosang leapt at the chance to keep an eye out for you.

He knew that the mark in the floor from one of your mother’s knitting needles had been your intent. Regardless of the vile acts your father had carried out, he knew you were not capable of killing anyone. Your father was a twisted man but you… you were not.

You were just hurt, feeling the pain of betrayal as was Yeosang. He felt as if he might as well have been strung up like Hongjoong and had his own life choked out of him for failing in the one task he’d promised to you. He was as much to blame as your father and the rest of the village was. He’d contributed to the breaking of your heart that night, too.

Despite being told numerous times to give up and not expect you to return, like a fool he was still outside, patrolling with a lantern for most of the night, hoping that you might show up so he could tell you how sorry he was. Wishing for one moment to apologize and tell you that you had every right to hate him as he already hated himself.

As he reached the forest during his pacing for what felt like the hundredth time, he heard a sound. Almost like a distant roar. He looked at the sky, watching and waiting for any sign of a storm but saw none. The sky was clear with very few clouds, stars glittering overhead.

He listened for a little longer before deciding it was just his imagination and started to turn away when a scream also rang out from the distance. He turned instantly, wide eyes scanning the trees. It sounded like a female scream.

As he turned back around and watched the forest, he heard the sound of twigs snapping and another scream rang out, this time much closer and clearer. Yeosang took a few steps forward, letting out a soft gasp when a figure emerged from the woods, stumbling over their own feet. As they moved into the light of the many torches that had been set up after you left he realized who it was.

“Y/N?” he called out, rushing forward to meet you. You were sobbing, your dress covered in dirt as you stumbled forward. Yeosang closed the distance, dropping his lantern and you collapsed, managing to catch you at the last second and you erupted into anguished sobs that bordered on wails.

He glanced up, eyes widening as he caught sight of something standing at the edge of the forest. Something tall and dark. It slowly retreated back into the forest until he couldn’t see it anymore.

A nearby door opened and one of the villagers appeared in their night dress. Yeosang looked up. “Go get Y/F/N. And Jonas!” he shouted. “Now!” Yeosang returned his attention to you as more people came out to see what the commotion was. Yeosang gently rocked you, shushing you as you continued to sob heavily.

“What happened?” a voice whispered. “I don’t know. I just came out and they were like this,” another said. “Where did she even come from?”

Yeosang tried to drown out the gossip and turned to one of the women who had come to offer their assistance. “Take her to her father’s house,” he ordered. “I’m going into the forest,” he explained. At this you pulled back, grabbing the front of his coat and shook your head violently. “No!” you shouted. “You can’t! D-don’t go in there! It’s n-not safe!”

Yeosang took your face in his hands and shushed you again, gently. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m just going to see—” you shook your head, cutting him off with incoherent babbles. Yeosang finally relented, seeing the true fear in your face. “Okay,” he relented as you started to hyperventilate. “I won’t go in. I promise,” he said quickly.

“Here,” he started, carefully getting up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” He guided you away from the crowd that had formed and to your parents’ house. The door opened as he approached and the look of anger on your mother’s face vanished instantly upon seeing the state you were in. “I can take her to the church if you would prefer,” Yeosang said softly as your father appeared behind your mother.

“No,” he said, a look of concern crossing his face as they both backed up. “Bring her in here,” he added. Yeosang guided you inside, keeping a firm but steady arm around your back. “What happened?” your father asked as your mother led Yeosang to the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang answered as they started to climb the steps. He followed your mother up to your room leading you in and carefully sitting you down on the bed. “Y/N,” he said calmly, taking your hands in his. “You’re safe,” he said as your mother and father looked on from the doorway. “You’re home and you’re safe.”

Your sobs had subsided into small hiccups as you stared blankly at him, not really seeing him. You had this far off look on your face. Yeosang stood, trying to pull away but your grip on him tightened and a new wave of hysteria washed over you. He quickly knelt in front of you again. “I’m going to step outside the room while your mother helps you change and puts you to bed,” he explained. You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Don’t abandon me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible enough for him to hear. He took your hands again. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m not going to leave. I just can’t be in here while your mother undresses you,” he explained, glancing over at your mother who crossed the room, taking a seat beside you and wrapping an arm around you.

“I will be downstairs,” Yeosang said. “I promise.” Your grip lessened as he stood up and pulled away. Your mother started doting on you as he reached the door and stepped out into the hall with your father, sighing as he shut the door. “What happened?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“I don’t have any answers. I was out patrolling when I heard a scream and the next thing I knew, she was sprinting out of the woods and collapsed into my arms as I reached her. She was sobbing, wailing like someone had been murdered right in front of her.”

Yeosang noticed the shift in your father’s body language but he continued on. “She could barely form a sentence. I figured I’d just bring her here and if you didn’t want her back, I’d take her to the church,” he explained. Your father nodded. “I’m not entirely thrilled to have her back after what she did but you were right to bring her here,” your father said softly.

“Her mother and I will keep an eye on her,” he continued as he led Yeosang down the stairs. “I would like to come visit her during the day, if that’s alright,” Yeosang said as they reached the door. Your father hesitated before nodding. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Thank you Pastor Kang.” Yeosang nodded and reached for the door but as he turned the knob, your father pushed the door shut.

“Since she’s back,” your father started in a hushed tone. “And with everything that’s happened, I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wouldn’t want to marry her now.”

Yeosang’s expression fell, anger bubbling in his stomach and threatening to rise up into his throat. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t think that’s really what is important right now. Presently, I would like to make sure she is safe and looked after. Getting her back to a state of normalcy is the most urgent,” he responded.

Your father, looking very embarrassed, nodded, muttering to himself. “We will discuss this matter another time,” Yeosang added. He gave your father a very curt nod and opened the door, stepping out into the night and heading for the church.

He needed to speak to Jonas and tell him everything. Right now.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since you’d run out of the forest and into Yeosang and despite everyone’s best efforts, you remained in a catatonic state. Your mother struggled to get you to eat or speak. You barely slept at night, instead tossing and turning and being terrorized by nightmares. The day time only offered the relief of it no longer being dark.

Yeosang visited you multiple times each day to check on you. When he was near, you felt safer but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hongjoong came back to the village. Yeosang had placed a few protective charms around your home, especially in your room by the window and over the door.

He was certain that whatever he saw coming out of the forest after you wasn’t human. The fear he saw in your face as well as the way he felt upon seeing the figure confirmed in his mind that something dark and inhuman had been chasing you.

During his visits, Yeosang hoped you might open up and tell him what happened but each day, you refused to talk, lying in a catatonic state. Your mother tried to feed you while he was there and a few times, to save your mother from fighting you, Yeosang took over.

He was patient, sitting by your bedside waiting for any sign that you might be more receptive to food. He found that broth seemed to be the only thing you could stomach, solid foods making you sick and coming back up no matter how they were prepared.

Broth was easy and low energy but even sometimes after drinking it, you would still get sick, throwing up into the pail your mother set by your bedside. Yeosang was always there to help, holding the pail for you or rubbing your back soothingly as you retched.

He could see you growing weaker and weaker by the day and at the end of your first week back, you could barely even walk on your own. Your mother was at her wits end, trying to take care of the house but also of you and it was taking a toll on her.

“She just keeps throwing everything up, I don’t know what to do!” your mother said, nearly in tears as Yeosang sat at the dining table while she made some broth. “She can’t keep just drinking broth. She needs sustenance,” she added. Yeosang grimaced as he watched your mother work. “Ideally, yes,” he answered as he watched your mother pour the brother into a bowl and got up. “But currently, she can’t even keep this down,” he explained, picking up a large cup and taking the bowl before pouring it into the cup.

“How do you expect her to keep down meat and potatoes when she can barely stomach liquids?” he asked, offering a kind smile. “We don’t know what she endured,” he continued. “But throwing up seems to be a trauma response to whatever horrors she faced. We have to be patient.”

After filling the cup with warm broth, Yeosang grabbed his book from the table and started up the steps, having grown rather familiar with your parents’ house by this point. He reached your door and softly knocked on it, calling your name. He turned the knob and peered in to find you lying on your back, pillows propping you up but your eyes were closed.

Or they had been when he opened the door. You must have been roused by the sound and your eyes slowly fluttered open. You looked even more exhausted and weary. “Did I wake you?” Yeosang asked softly. You shook your head.

Yeosang entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to the bed, setting your broth down and checking your pail. It had dried sick in it but not much. ‘Hard to throw anything up when there’s nothing in her stomach,’ he thought to himself.

“I brought you something to eat,” he said, setting his book down and sitting on the edge of your bed. He leaned forward, resting his hand against your forehead before feeling your cheek. “You don’t have a fever, surprisingly,” he muttered, sitting back and looking down at you.

“You feel like eating?” he asked. You didn’t respond, instead staring at the ceiling. Yeosang reached out, gently caressing your cheek. “I wish you would eat, Y/N. I know it is difficult. That’s why I had your broth put in a cup so you can drink it easier than a bowl.”

He studied your face. “I thought I might read to you, if you’d like that,” he continued. “Maybe I could read to you and you can drink your broth,” he suggested. You still didn’t respond, merely laid there, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang got up and moved to the chair, grabbing his book and taking a seat before he opened the book.

“And don’t worry,” he added with a hint of a smile. “It’s not the bible. I’m trying to help you heal, not torture you.”

Yeosang spent the next couple hours reading to you from the book, checking on you every so often but there was no change. You hadn’t moved, the cup on your bedside remained untouched but he persevered. After reading for a couple hours, he said his goodbyes and left, heading down to the kitchen where your mother was. He left the broth on your bedside table, hoping that you might find the strength to drink it in his absence.

He left your house and went back to the church to report to Jonas who had asked for daily updates on your condition. He wanted to know the moment you were speaking again to get your side of the story as to what happened the day you returned to the village.

Afterwards, he went back to his own home and settled down for the night.

The next day, Yeosang stopped by your place in the morning to check on you. He greeted your mother as he walked in, having been told he could come and go as he pleased as long as he helped you. Yeosang asked if your mother had checked on you this morning and she shook her head.

“I came right down the stairs to start my daily tasks,” she admitted. Yeosang noticed how exhausted she seemed. “Are you sleeping at night, Mrs. Y/L/N?” he asked, getting to his feet and walking over to check her temperature. “I’m alright,” she said. “No need to fuss over me.”

Yeosang let out a chuckle. “If you want to go and rest, I’ll take care of things here,” he offered. Your mother looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she said, shaking her head. “I have a husband and a sick child to care for. I can hardly afford to be idle.”

Yeosang watched as she resumed, bustling about. “Then let me take care of Y/N,” Yeosang replied. Your mother turned to look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “You aren’t asking,” Yeosang said. “I’m offering.”

After staring at him for a moment, your mother finally conceded. “Alright. Can you first go get the cup of broth? I don’t think she drank it and I’m gonna try something different today.” Yeosang smiled and nodded, heading for the stairs and climbing them slowly.

He opened the door and peered into your room. You were lying on your side, eyes closed and you looked like you were finally sleeping. Yeosang quietly entered the room, taking care to move slowly so as to not make much noise. He walked over to the bedside table, checking the pail to find nothing new had been added. He grabbed the cup and lifted it, finding it much lighter than when he set it down.

A smile crossed his face when he found it mainly empty. He glanced at your sleeping form before he started to turn but felt a hand close around his wrist and looked down to see you looking up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, kneeling down and gently stroking your head. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m just taking this back downstairs.” You blinked sleepily at him before your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a soft sigh.

Yeosang continued stroking your head before he stood up and made his way to the door, checking to make sure you were still asleep before he shut the door and headed down to the kitchen where your mother was checking something cooking in a pot over the hearth.

She turned to look at Yeosang as he entered. “She finished the broth and the pail is empty,” he announced as he walked over to show your mother the empty cup. A look of relief passed over your mother’s face. “Is she awake?” she asked.

Yeosang shook his head. “She was briefly while I was in there, but she’s gone back to sleep so I think it best if we let her rest for now and bring her something to eat later,” he explained, feeling better when your mother nodded in agreement.

Yeosang stayed downstairs, insisting he help your mother around the house in your absence. Initially she refused but Yeosang said he would only tend to your chores just to lessen the burden. He worked diligently and without complaint for a few hours while your food cooked.

As he finished sweeping, your mother called him over. She had made lunch and despite his insistence, she made him sit down and eat before she let him head upstairs with your food. Upon entering your room, Yeosang found you lying on your side, eyes closed but it was clear you’d gotten sick and managed to pull the pail closer.

Rushing over, he set the bowl of food on the bedside and looked into the pail to find whatever you had ingested was now resting in the bottom of the pail. Yeosang sighed softly and grabbed a small rag from his pocket, kneeling down to carefully wipe the rest of the sick from the corner of your mouth and chin.

You started to stir as he finished, your eyes opening weakly. “Here,” he said softly, helping you sit up, rearranging your pillows so you were propped up. He sat on the edge of your bed. “You aren’t keeping anything down,” he said softly, watching as you avoided his gaze. “Hey,” he whispered, taking your hand.

“I’m not upset,” he started, feeling relieved when you looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m worried, Y/N. You aren’t eating, you’re barely sleeping, and you won’t speak. I thought we had made progress when you finished the broth but maybe it was too much for your stomach. Maybe you need smaller portions,” he mumbled.

You said nothing but you didn’t need to. “I’ll be right back,” he said, grabbing the bowl, and headed for the door. He rushed back downstairs, setting the bowl on the table, taking in your mother’s concerned face. “Did she get sick again?” she asked, mumbling a curse when Yeosang nodded. “Do you have any more of that broth?” he asked.

She nodded and got up. “Give me just a small cup of it. I think the portions are too big. She needs to eat smaller and then we can work her up.” With the broth in hand, Yeosang headed back upstairs and entered your room, giving you a smile as he walked over and set the cup on the bedside. “Take your time with it. If it takes you all day to eat it, that’s okay. Just sip it for now,” he explained as he grabbed the chair and moved it closer.

“Would you like me to read to you?” he asked. This time, instead of staring at him or the ceiling, you nodded. It was such a subtle movement but Yeosang, who had grown accustomed to you and was aware of even the slightest change, noticed.

He pulled out his book and resumed where he’d left off, reading a few chapters to you.

As he finished the third one, he looked up to find you fast asleep. He checked the cup and saw you had finished about half the broth and smiled as he got up, heading for the door and shutting it softly behind him.

It was progress but he would have to check in the morning to make sure you didn’t get sick in the middle of the night or in the morning. Yeosang left the house, bidding your parents farewell before heading home.

The next day, when Yeosang came to check on you, your mother excitedly told him you had finished the rest of your broth and had not gotten sick in the night nor in the morning. Relief passed over them at the prospect that you might have been able to keep down the broth.

After helping with the morning chores, Yeosang headed up to your bedroom with your broth and a new book in addition to the one he’d been reading to you. He spent a few hours reading to you as you sipped on your broth until you fell asleep.

The next couple days went by the same. Yeosang had just spent the last few hours reading to you and lost track of time. Your parents invited him to stay for dinner and afterwards, he was on his way out, night having fallen already.

As he walked, he heard a twig snapped and looked around, taking note of a young woman in a cloak walking towards the woods. He turned, watching her with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Before her was a black ram which would walk a short distance before stopping and turning to look at her. Once she caught up, the ram would repeat the process.

Yeosang watched the scene unfold silently and when the woman disappeared into the shadows of the forest, he followed, stopping at the edge of the forest and peering around a tree to see the woman had only gone in so far that she wouldn’t be immediately spotted. She removed her cloak, revealing herself to be entirely nude underneath.

The ram turned and Yeosang watched with wide eyes as the animal shifted into a tall dark figure and held out a hand which the woman took. The figure guided her down onto the forest floor and Yeosang pulled back and turned away to avoid witnessing any more.

He hurried to the church instead of his home and opened it, climbing the stairs in the back hall to Jonas’ room where he knocked urgently. After a moment, the door opened and a very tired looking Jonas appeared. “Pastor Kang?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

Yeosang, who had all but run to the church, launched into an explanation of what he’d seen. Once he was done, Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like we may have a demon lurking in the woods,” he said softly. “And what are we going to do about it?” Yeosang asked when Jonas didn’t elaborate further.

The elder minister looked up at him. “Oh, I’ll prepare some new protective charms and we’ll put them up around the village. That should help ward off the evil,” he said, nodding again. “If you’ll excuse me,” Jonas said. “I was in the middle of my prayers. Good evening, Pastor Kang.”

Yeosang bowed his head as Jonas closed the door and headed back down the steps and out of the church. Once he was back on flat ground, he glanced towards the forest as a chilly wind swept through the village. If Jonas was going to up the protective measures on the village, Yeosang would have to up them on your home.

The moon that should have been overhead was hidden by the clouds that had rolled in just after the sun had set beyond the horizon, blocking out the stars as well. The chill in the air would normally have deterred anyone from leaving their home but Yeosang was determined to catch a glimpse of that dark figure he’d seen twice now.

The oil in his lamp was getting low as he continued to walk around the village. He’d made three passes already around the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on the edge of the forest. He knew he was being ridiculous but Yeosang was determined to figure out this mystery. He had his suspicions but he would not lay blame until he knew everything.

As he neared your parents’ home, he wondered how you had been fairing the last few days. He and Jonas had been busy placing protective ornaments around the village, over the front doors of each home. He’d made more to hang in your room and delivered them to your parents who promised to put them up for him.

As he turned away from the forest, something caught his eye, a shadow darker than the rest moving through the trees. Yeosang raised the lantern in his hand, hoping to extend the reach of the light but it didn’t seem to help. The shadow only disappeared. Yeosang followed, walking down to the edge of the forest and following it past the last house until he was at the corner of the clearing.

He scanned the tree line but saw nothing and decided to follow it behind the houses. As he reached the section of trees behind your home, he peered into the trees, squinting as if it would help him see through the darkness better.

There was a scraping behind him and he turned to face the backside of your house. As he scanned the building, his eyes focused on a dark shadow near the window at the top. He raised his lantern and let out a small gasp.

A dark figure was crawling up the wall, peering into your window. It extended a clawed hand towards the window and attempted to open it but Yeosang called up to the figure. “Who is that?” he asked. The figure froze, head whipping around.

Yeosang stumbled backwards as it glared at him with fiery red eyes. His foot hit a small stone and he nearly fell, regaining his balance and stood back up, looking around the house for any sign of the figure but it was nowhere to be seen.

Yeosang hurried around to the front of your house, still finding no sign of the figure and sighed. He would have to inform Jonas in the morning of what he had seen. He started heading back towards his home, checking the rest of the houses along the way.

The following morning, Yeosang entered the church to report his findings to Jonas who made note of them. As they were speaking, a scream rang out from the direction of the forest. Yeosang followed Jonas out of the church as a crowd started to gather.

“Get back!” a voice yelled. Yeosang and Jonas pushed their way to the front to find a gruesome scene unfolding before them. A body had been pulled out of the well and was currently being cradled by a woman who was wailing as he clung to the lifeless body.

The person who had yelled was Abel. He was trying to shield his wife, Prudence, from view. Yeosang approached, placing a calm hand on his shoulder before moving past him and kneeling beside his wife. She was sobbing uncontrollably and when Yeosang leaned down to look, he saw Judith’s face, pale and colorless. He sat back up as Jonas kneeled beside him.

“It’s Judith,” Yeosang whispered to the elder minister. Jonas glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the body. “I will handle the crowd, you tend to her,” he said softly, nodding at Prudence and standing up.

Yeosang placed a hand on Prudence’s back. “Let’s get her inside,” he said softly in a calm and kind voice. He removed his cloak, using it to shield Judith’s body from view and guided Judith’s mother to stand before he carefully picked up Judith’s corpse and followed Prudence into the house while Jonas spoke to the crowd that had gathered.

Yeosang followed Prudence to the kitchen where she cleared the dining table and Yeosang carefully set Judith down. “Would you be so kind as to fetch the village doctor,” Yeosang asked Prudence and Abel’s eldest child, Michael. He nodded and hurried out of the house.

Yeosang guided Prudence to the living room and sat her down, kneeling before her. “Tell me everything,” he said softly.

Between sobs, Prudence managed to tell him how Abel had gone to the well to fetch some water and that pulling the bucket up was proving to be a chore indeed. He asked for help and as he and two other men retrieved the bucket, they pulled up Judith’s body.

Yeosang’s heart sank as he turned to look through the doorway into the kitchen where Judith’s corpse lay, covered by his cloak. The door behind him opened and Michael returned with the doctor in tow, Abel and Jonas following close behind.

Yeosang got to his feet, gesturing for Michael to sit with his mother as Jonas instructed Abel to sit while the two priests followed the doctor into the kitchen. Yeosang pulled his cloak back and resisted the urge to gasp as he finally got a good look at Judith.

Her eyes were closed, as if she had been asleep. Other than the color being drained from her skin and due to her wet hair and clothes, she looked like she might have fallen in and drowned if it hadn’t been from the rip in her dress and the hole in her chest.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Doctor?” Jonas whispered. The doctor, Jones, had a look of shock on his face. It was clear to Yeosang he had, in fact, not seen anything like it before. “It looks as if…” he started, glancing towards the doorway before lowering his voice.

“As if her chest has been ripped open.”

Yeosang looked up from Judith’s face to the doctor. “Ripped open?” he repeated softly. “What kind of creature could do this?” Yeosang asked, keeping his voice low. The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Perhaps a bear or some kind of large cat—”

“There are no other marks on her,” Yeosang countered angrily. Jonas held his hand up. “Keep your voice down, Pastor Kang,” he said calmly. Yeosang took a step back, lowering his gaze. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Jonas leaned forward, peering into the gaping wound in Judith’s chest before standing back up and turning to the doctor. “Her heart seems to be missing,” he said softly. Yeosang looked up as Jones leaned forward to inspect as well, letting out a soft prayer.

“Can you close the wound?” Jonas asked, drawing both Yeosang and Jones’ attention. “I…” Jones turned to look at Yeosang but the younger minister said nothing, offering no help. “I can try. Bring her to my office. I’ll conduct my work there.”

Jonas nodded and left the kitchen to ask the family for a sheet or blanket to cover Judith so she can be moved. Abel and Michael tried to protest but Jonas insisted, so the doctor can close the hole in her chest, offer her some dignity.

Once a bed sheet had been retrieved, Michael and Abel carried Judith’s body over to Jones’ home so he could stitch the wound closed and Yeosang left the house in a daze. Had this been the work of the figure he’d seen last night? What was it? Some sort of demon?

Jonas called for a meeting of just the adults, leaving the children and young unmarried adults at home while he finally broke the news of Judith’s death and the manner in which her body was found. He also revealed that the culprit might possibly be a demon that was summoned no doubt after Hongjoong’s hasty execution.

“What does that mean?” Nicolas asked from his seat in the back of the church. “It means nothing,” Jonas answered. “Only that we must be vigilant and keep a watchful eye. Pastor Kang and I will fashion more protective charms and deliver them door to door so you may protect your homes from the demon.”

After the meeting, Yeosang was kept busy, fashioning more charms to have Jonas bless so they could give them to the villagers. Yeosang had already given your parents’ some of his own making so he saw no reason to make anymore for your family.

Once he had finished this task, he went by your parents’ home, apologizing for not visiting sooner. He helped your mother around the house and took your meal up to you. He was more than pleased to see you were starting to regain your strength and that you were eating actual food now. He spent a couple hours reading to you while you ate before he had to leave again.

The next two nights, the charms did not seem to work as two more women were killed. Sara’s body was found at the edge of the forest, strangled and Charity’s body was found just outside the pig’s pen while her head was found in the chicken coop.

Sensing that they would most likely require help, Yeosang spoke to Jonas about sending out word to neighboring villages to ask for help. Jonas agreed and helped Yeosang write the letters and send them out.

All they had to do now was wait.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since Yeosang sent out the letters and he was back out, patrolling at night. He and a few of the other villagers had agreed to take turns patrolling at night to keep an eye on the village and it was Yeosang’s turn.

He was passing in front of the church when he heard the snap of a twig and turned his head to look between the church and the house next to it. “Is someone there?” he asked, his voice slightly raised. He waited for a response but when he got none, he was about to continue on until another snap and sound of footsteps.

He hesitated, staring into the dark until he remembered the dark figure he’d seen trying to get into your house and continued forward, one foot in front of the other as he walked between the buildings. As he reached the back, he peered around, seeing nothing standing out in the dark. He turned to look behind the house and saw nothing. As he turned to make his way back, he felt a hand grab him and his back slammed against the outside wall of the outhouse.

He tried to pull the hand off him but it proved to be too strong. The lantern fell and Yeosang looked up to find the same black fiery eyes looking back at him. The dark figure he’d seen outside your house.

“What do you want?” Yeosang choked out, grabbing at the hand around his throat. He watched as the blackened skin of the figure melted away, eyes wide in both shock and disbelief as the familiar face of Hongjoong appeared before him.

“It cannot be,” he whispered. Hongjoong smiled at him before letting go of Yeosang’s throat and took a step back. Yeosang fell to his knees, massaging his neck and coughing before he looked up at Hongjoong. “How?” was all he asked.

“How? How what?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head. Yeosang was able to get a much better look at him now. All the blackened skin had melted away and Hongjoong as he had been before his death stood before him. His eyes were the same fiery red irises, surrounded by black and two small, black horns protruding through the skin of his forehead.

“How are you here?” Yeosang asked, looking up at Hongjoong as he stood motionless in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him. “How did you come back?” Hongjoong let out a scoff.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, glaring at Yeosang. “No,” Yeosang said softly. “I guess it doesn’t. But what do you want? Why did you kill those women?” Hongjoong stared at Yeosang wordlessly for a moment before speaking.

“I’m just returning the favor to my murderers,” he replied. “I’m taking their futures away just as mine was ripped away from me.” Yeosang got up slowly, grabbing his lantern. “An eye for an eye will make the world blind,” he said, to which Hongjoong burst into laughter.

“Were you always this boring?” he asked. Yeosang frowned as he looked at Hongjoong. “Does this plan for retribution include Y/N?” he asked, taking note of the way Hongjoong tensed up, his smile falling. “Her father led the charge after all.”

Hongjoong uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, closing the distance between them. “Why wouldn’t it?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dangerously low. “Her father is just as guilty as the others. I’ll take his future from him, too.”

Yeosang resisted the urge to protest, instead taking a deep breath despite the pounding of his own heart and shaky breathing. This was the closest to hell he’d ever come and never want to do it again.

“What about your feelings for Y/N?” Yeosang asked softly. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes as he studied Yeosang’s face. Whatever he was expecting Hongjoong to say, it wasn’t what came out of his mouth next.

“What feelings?”

Yeosang felt his heart sink as he looked at Hongjoong’s stoic expression.

“You…” Yeosang’s words failed him. How could he just forget everything like that? After everything you’d been through to be together, the plans you both made, how could Hongjoong just toss it away like that? It made Yeosang so… angry. ‘How dare he?!’

“You and Y/N,” he started. “You loved her. You were so in love with her. How do you not still feel that way?” Yeosang demanded, his anger bubbling to the surface. Hongjoong studied him carefully, tilting his head from side to side before a smirk settled on his lips.

“Oh I see,” he said, taking a step forward. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Yeosang took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Hongjoong. “W-what?” he whispered. “Of course not! I would never do that to Hongj—”

“How noble of you,” Hongjoong snapped. “Putting aside your feelings so the outsider that lives in the woods could have a chance at love.” Yeosang took note of the change in Hongjoong’s voice. It was deeper and it sounded like more than one person was talking at once.

It sounded… inhuman.

“Poor Pastor Kang. So young and lonely,” he continued, stalking forward as Yeosang backed away. “In love with a woman who would never love him back. How pathetic.”

Each word was like a stab in the chest. He had never truly considered Hongjoong his friend and he knew Hongjoong never considered him a friend either but he had always respected Hongjoong. “Stop it,” Yeosang said as his back pressed against a tree.

“Regardless of what this mortal once felt for the human girl, she will die,” Hongjoong continued, the inhuman voice speaking through him. “I will get retribution and I will kill her.” Hongjoong started as he started to turn away. “And if you get in my way,” he continued before hesitating to look back.

“I’ll kill you too.”

Yeosang watched as he disappeared into the shadows of the house and from view. The sound returned to the night, crickets chirping loudly from the grass, an owl hooted in the distance and Yeosang snapped out of his horrific trance.

If it hadn’t been clear before, it was now; Hongjoong had returned but something else had come back with him. Only one question remained for Yeosang to answer.

Who had come back with him?

Loud banging at the door woke Yeosang with a start and he sat up with a gasp. He looked around in a sleepy daze as the loud knocks continued. He pulled back the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he stumbled through the house to the door.

He pulled it open, blinking in the bright light of the day.

“It’s Y/N!” your father said, a look of fear on his face. “Something is wrong!”

Yeosang snapped out of his daze and moved to grab his coat, pulling on his boots and dressing in a hurry. He followed your father across the village to your house. As he entered, he could hear a commotion coming from upstairs.

Yeosang pushed past your father and headed up the stairs quickly. Your bedroom door was open, your mother sitting on your bed, helping you sit up and holding the pail as you retched violently. “I don’t know what happened!” your mother said tearfully as Yeosang crossed the room.

“How long has she been like this?” Yeosang asked, looking at your mother as you vomited into the pail. “I don’t know! I came in to check on her and she was moaning in pain. Her pillow was drenched in sweat and she was warm to the touch. She started throwing up but she hasn’t stopped,” your mother explained quickly as Yeosang knelt down, lifting your face.

All the color had left you, your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and it was clear you were weak. “What’s wrong with her, Pastor Kang?” your father asked. Yeosang turned to look at him before looking at your mother. He finally looked at you as you retched again, a loud gagging sound coming from your throat.

“I can’t be certain,” Yeosang said. “What has she eaten recently?” he asked. “Just meat and potatoes, the same I have been giving her since she was able to keep food down,” your mother answered. You retched again, throwing up into the pail. Yeosang glanced down and noticed red swirling in your sick.

He looked up slowly at your mother. “Fetch the doctor,” Yeosang said softly. Your father stepped into the room. “What?” he asked. Before Yeosang could answer, you vomited again only instead of stomach contents, it was nothing but blood.

Your mother let out a wail as Yeosang turned to your father. “Call for the doctor!”

Your father stumbled out of the room and headed down the stairs as Yeosang stood up, removing his coat. “Has she been drinking anything?” Yeosang asked as he rolled up his sleeves. “Just cider,” your mother answered. “Where did the potatoes and meat come from?” Yeosang asked as he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“She’s growing cold,” he murmured. “Just from our reserves. The potatoes were harvested from our vegetable garden!” your mother answered as Yeosang took the pail from her, moving to the window to toss the contents out and move back to the bed.

“Do you have anything in the house that hasn’t come from outside?” he asked, looking up at your mother. “I have some bread from the neighbor. And some bone broth she made. I was getting low.” Yeosang guided your mother to her feet. “Heat up the broth. Do not take your eyes off it,” he instructed. “I will stay here with her.”

Your mother hesitated, looking at your sickly form. “Go!” he snapped. “The more time you waste, the worse she will get! I think she’s been poisoned.” At that, your mother hurried out of the room and he could hear her footsteps rush down the stairs.

Yeosang climbed onto your bed, settling next to you as he helped you sit up. He set the pail on the bed and grabbed the rag from your bedside, using it to wipe the blood from your chin. “He can’t enter your home,” he muttered to himself. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t poison your food.”

You let out a small sob and Yeosang felt his heart break. “It’s going to be alright,” he said softly. “Just stay with me, Y/N.” A fresh wave of nausea took over and you vomited violently into the pail, more blood. Yeosang wiped your face once more as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. He looked up as Jones and your father entered the room.

“She’s vomiting blood,” Yeosang quickly explained. “I think she’s been poisoned.” He could see the expression on your father’s face change from confusion to anger. “Are you accusing us of—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything!” Yeosang snapped as Jones moved to start his examination. “Your food must have been tainted before coming into the home. The demon could have poisoned your food before you brought it in,” he continued, addressing your father.

“Then why aren’t we sick?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head. “I do not know. I can’t offer any explanation.” Jones felt the sides of your neck, massaging before looking up at Yeosang and then to your father. “Is she allergic to anything?” he asked.

Your father stared at him. “Allergic? I don’t think so…” he trailed off. Jones murmured to himself. “I’ll need charcoal then,” he said, looking up at your father. “Charcoal?” your father asked. Yeosang was starting to grow tired of all the questions. “Whatever for?”

Jones turned to your father. “Do you want me to save her or not?” he asked, exasperatedly. Your father gulped and exited the room as another wave of nausea took over, causing you to vomit into the pail. Yeosang helped you lie back, wiping your face.

“Do you know if she’s allergic to anything?” Jones asked. Yeosang shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. She never mentioned anything.” Jones nodded as your father returned, fingers smeared with black as he held a few pieces of charcoal in his hand.

“Ahh, thank you,” Jones said, taking the pieces. “Were these outside?” Yeosang asked, looking up at your father who shook his head. “No,” he answered. “They were in the pantry.” Jones looked around. “Oh, do you have a mortar and pestle?” he asked. Your father disappeared for a few moments before returning with the item.

Yeosang watched as the doctor ground up the charcoal for a few moments before turning. “Sit her up, please.” Yeosang did as asked, pulling you up and allowing your back to rest against his chest. “Open her mouth.” Yeosang did as instructed, holding your mouth open as Jones mixed the charcoal into a flask of liquid.

“What is that?” Yeosang asked. “Wine,” Jones answered. “It’s from my home. It’s safe,” he added, noticing Yeosang’s expression. “Tilt her head back slightly, yes like that. Good,” he said. “She might fight this but it’s important she swallows it. If anything is in her system, this should flush it out.”

Yeosang nodded and kept one arm firmly around your chest as Jones tipped the glass, allowing the concoction to spill into your open mouth. He used his free hand to massage the front of your neck, forcing you to swallow. As soon as he went to pour more into your mouth, you gagged, struggling against Yeosang’s grip.

“Hold her!” Jones said. Your father watched in horror from the doorway as Yeosang and Jones managed to get you under control and force you to drink the rest of the mixture. “She will start vomiting again,” Jones said breathlessly as he replaced the lid on the glass flask and you slumped back against Yeosang.

“It may get dirty, bloody even, but it is vital you let the antidote run its course,” Jones explained. The next moment, your body started convulsing and Yeosang grabbed the pail just as you sat up, grabbing the pail from him and vomiting into it. It looked horrid and smelled even worse.

Your father gagged and stepped out as you continued to retch, vomiting into the pail everything in your stomach. Yeosang eyed the contents, seeing nothing but black goo. After several minutes of this, you seemed to have run out of things in your stomach to throw up.

There was a strange gagging sound from your throat almost as if you were choking. “Something’s lodged in her throat,” Jones said, stepping forward but Yeosang was quicker. He gave you one solid thump on the back and whatever was stuck in your throat was forced out, hitting the inside side of the pail and falling into the black goo.

You let out an exhausted huff and slumped back against Yeosang once more, hands falling limp. Jones took the pail carefully. “I think the worst is past,” he said as he looked at your exhausted form. “I’ll fetch some water to clean her face,” he added. He walked out of the room, carrying the pail and Yeosang heard his footsteps wane as he descended the steps.

Grabbing the bloodstained rag, Yeosang attempted to wipe your face but wasn’t able to make much progress. Moments later, your mother appeared, carrying a small basin with water and handed Yeosang a clean rag before setting the water on the bed.

“Will she be alright?” your mother whispered as Yeosang dipped the rag in the water and started to clean your face, chin, mouth, and even neck. “I don’t know,” Yeosang answered truthfully. “I think Jones has done all he can. Now we must wait.”

Your mother nodded and headed for the door. “Could you bring that broth?” Yeosang asked, looking up from your sleeping expression. “I’d like to try and get something into her stomach as soon as allowed.” Your mother nodded and left the room.

Once Yeosang was satisfied you were cleaned, he leaned back against the pillows, letting you rest against his chest as he listened to the sound of your shallow breathing. He felt your forehead and while you were still clammy, he could have sworn he felt some warmth to your skin.

Hours passed, your mother finally returning with the broth as well as a bowl of something for Yeosang. “I’m sure you didn’t have time to eat before you came here. It’s just porridge,” she explained. Yeosang offered a smile, thanking her before turning his attention back to you.

Some time passed before Jones returned with your father. “I checked the pail,” Jones explained. “There was something in it.” Yeosang looked from the doctor to your father and back. “And what did you find?” he asked.

Jones stepped forward, presenting an item he no doubt washed thoroughly before handling it. It was a pendant. One Yeosang recognized. Before he could say anything, your father spoke. “It belonged to… him.” Yeosang looked up at him, realization setting in. He glanced back down at the pendant, staring up at him.

Just as he surmised, it had belonged to Hongjoong. But what was it doing in Y/N’s stomach and more importantly how did it get there?

Jones gave you one last examination and determined that only time would tell if he’d administered the antidote in time if it had even been poison to begin with. Yeosang and your father thanked the doctor and Yeosang remained behind while your father walked him out.

Yeosang ate the porridge your mother had brought him but as soon as he was done, he turned his attention back to you. “I know you don’t share the same faith as me,” he whispered. “But I’d like to pray for you, if you’ll let me?”

He’d been holding your hand in his and when your hand tightened, fingers lacing with his, Yeosang took that as you giving him your permission. He closed his eyes, silently praying to whatever god was listening that you would make it through this.

Yeosang stayed the rest of the day with you, refusing to leave your side. He was gently shaken awake by your mother. “Night has fallen,” your mother whispered, holding a candle. “You should sleep in your own bed. Come back in the morning,” she said. Yeosang shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “I’ll stay here if that’s alright. I’ve been praying over her,” he added. “I must have fallen asleep. I’ll stay.” Your mother looked taken aback but when she noticed how peacefully you were sleeping in his arms, she relented. “Of course,” your mother replied, setting the candle down on the bedside table.

“Good night then, Pastor Kang,” she said as she walked to the door. “Good night,” Yeosang replied as the door shut, leaving you two alone in the dim light of the flame. “Now, where was I?” Yeosang murmured as he tried to trace his mental footsteps only to give up after a moment to start his prayer all over.

You slept through most of the next day, only getting sick once to cough up what was left of the charcoal and wine in your system. Yeosang managed to get you to sip a little of the broth and continued to recite the same prayer over and over.

Your father stayed out of the room, leaving your mother the only one to willingly enter. “He believes this is all his fault,” your mother said as he sat on the chair beside your bed, doing some mending while Yeosang listened to her.

You were fast asleep in his arms, your breathing had evened out and your sweat had lessened. Instead of being cold, you were starting to grow warm again, like life was seeping back into your body. Holding you like this, so close, made Yeosang feel even more protective over you.

He looked up, looking towards your mother who kept her eyes on her sewing. He was tempted to say that your father was indeed responsible for all of this but he bit his tongue, not wanting to open that jar. ‘All in time,’ he told himself.

Your mother looked up from her sewing and lowered her hands. “Could I ask you something, Pastor Kang?” she asked, drawing his attention. “Hm?” Yeosang hummed. Your mother hesitated, glancing at your sleeping face before speaking in a low voice.

“Do you love her?”

Yeosang hesitated, not because he didn’t know the answer. The truth was he did love you. As a friend, but also as more. He hadn’t found the time to confess to you but when he learned about you and Hongjoong, he knew he stood no chance, not when he saw the stolen glances between you when Hongjoong visited the village on occasion.

He knew you would never look at him that way and he was fine with that. He respected your choices. But love you he did. He showed it in his own way. When he warned you about the rumors and made you promise to stay out of the forest, when he shielded you from seeing or hearing things that might upset you, or when he agreed to marry you so he could push it back and free Hongjoong. He wanted your happiness above everything else, even if it cost him everything.

Yeosang looked up as your mother’s expectant and waiting face. He could be honest now, right? Hongjoong was gone, for all intents and purposes and what remained was no longer him. It couldn’t be. He died. Then why did Yeosang feel like telling the truth would feel like betraying Hongjoong or rather, the memory of him?

It felt selfish, that Hongjoong should lose everything and Yeosang could gain everything. It was life’s cruel trick, that he could stand to gain the love of his life but at the loss of hers.

He looked back down at your sleeping expression. Was it selfish when Hongjoong would never be able to fulfill the promises he had made you in life but Yeosang could offer you any and everything you wanted? If you wanted to leave the village and start a new life, Yeosang would give up everything he owned for your dream because he was willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, isn’t that what love was? A series of compromises and self sacrifices?

Yeosang smiled to himself, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek. If it was selfish to do everything in his power to make you happy, then he would just have to be selfish.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do.”

The third day passed in the same fashion as the second. Yeosang spent a better part of the day praying, stopping only to eat and to feed you should you wake up. Your mother left the two of you alone and your father left the house early, not to return until dinner time.

Yeosang had just finished eating and was about to return to prayer when he looked down and saw your eyes looking up at him. He set his bowl aside and sat up, carefully helping you into a sitting position. “You’re awake,” he said softly. You reached up, cupping his cheek.

“Yeosang,” you said, your voice hoarse. He felt as if the world around him stopped upon hearing you speak finally. “Y/N,” he said with a laugh. “Y/M/N!” Yeosang called to the open door. “She’s awake!”

There were hurried footsteps and your mother appeared in the doorway, relief passing over her. “Oh Y/N,” she said, crossing the room and grabbing the chair to pull closer. “Hi, mama,” you said softly. Your mother’s lips parted in shock as you took one of your hands in both of hers and let out a soft cry, bowing her head.

“I’ll fetch Jones,” Yeosang started, moving to get up but you grabbed his arm. “No,” you whispered. “Don’t go.” Your mother smiled, letting go of your hand. “I will go. Stay with her,” your mother said as she got up and hurried out of the room.

Yeosang turned to look at you, a relieved smile on his face. “You have no idea how worried we were,” he started. You looked down from his face to your hand, moving it from his arm to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You stayed with me, didn’t you?” you asked in a scratchy voice. Yeosang cleared his throat, looking at your joined hands.

“I did,” he answered. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

You looked back up at him and his breath caught in his throat. He could see the look in your eyes, it was one he’d only ever seen you give Hongjoong before. Something akin to adoration. It only lasted for a moment before footsteps interrupted the moment.

Your mother returned with the doctor and your father in tow.

“Okay, everyone out,” Jones instructed. “I need to examine my patient!” You turned to Yeosang who gave you a reassuring nod. “I will be back as soon as he’s done,” he said softly. “I need to go speak with Jonas and inform him of your condition.”

Yeosang grabbed his coat and headed down the steps with your mother and father. He pulled the coat on as your parents sat at the table. “I will return with Jonas,” Yeosang explained. “He asked me to inform him the moment Y/N woke up.”

Yeosang exited the house, making his way to the church where he found Jonas tending to things in the office. “Pastor Kang,” Jonas said as Yeosang entered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Y/N is awake,” Yeosang explained quickly. “And more importantly,” he continued.

“She is speaking.”

Jonas accompanied Yeosang back to your parents’ house and the two waited downstairs for Jones to give you the all clear. The doctor returned to the kitchen moments later and gave the priests permission to enter before he informed your parents of your condition.

Yeosang led the way up the stairs to your room, knocking gently before waiting for your soft voice to call out a simple come in. Yeosang opened the door, peering in to find you sitting upright, looking exhausted but better than you had in weeks.

You watched as Yeosang entered, eyes widening as Jonas also entered. Yeosang moved to your bedside, grabbing the chair and setting it a comfortable distance from your bed. He offered it to Jonas who held up his hand as he stood by the door that was now shut. “You take it,” he said to the younger priest. “She’s much more comfortable with you.”

Yeosang glanced at you before taking a seat. You looked from Yeosang to Jonas nervously. “Pretend I am not here, child,” Jonas said with a smile. “I’m merely here to listen to your testimony.” You turned your gaze to Yeosang. “We need you to tell us what happened,” Yeosang started. “After you ran away from the village in the aftermath of—”

“Hongjoong’s death,” you finished, surprising both Yeosang and Jonas. “I’ll try,” you said softly, reaching for a glass on the bedside table. Yeosang grabbed it and handed it to you. “Doctor Jones gave this to me. It’s water mixed with some sort of mineral. It’s supposed to help me regain my strength.” Yeosang smiled as you took a couple sips and took the glass from you, setting it back down.

“Where to begin,” you said softly. “From the beginning,” Yeosang encouraged. You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting your story.

“After my father told me what had transpired, I knew I couldn’t stay. I ran away from home and into the woods,” you started. “Where did you go?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention. “To the cabin,” you answered. “Hongjoong’s cabin?” Yeosang asked, taking a deep breath when you nodded.

“I figured I would spend the night and in the morning, gather what I could and leave the village.” Your words sent a short pang through Yeosang. You had still planned to leave without Hongjoong but he could understand why. You continued, telling them about the knocking and the storm. “And then…” you trailed off.

“Then what?” Jonas asked. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “He was outside the cabin,” you whispered, turning your gaze to Yeosang. “Who?” Jonas asked. “Hongjoong,” you answered. “He was covered in dirt and blood and in this trance but when I called his name, he snapped out of it. He came into the cabin and I couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be dead.”

“But there he was, standing in front of me. He told me what he remembered happened. Something about brimstone and fire and darkness. I can’t remember all the details but to me it sounded like he was describing—”

“Hell,” Yeosang whispered. You nodded, eyes meeting his. “Then what happened?” You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “Then I tried to clean his skin but the dirt wasn’t coming off and it was then I realized it wasn’t dirt. It was like his skin was charred. Burned.”

“Fascinating,” Jonas whispered. Yeosang turned to look at Jonas, finding his interest and choice of words odd. You cleared your throat. “And then what happened?” Jonas asked. You hesitated, looking at him before looking at Yeosang, looking uncomfortable.

“What happened?” Yeosang asked. “We…” you trailed off, lowering your gaze. “Are you saying you had relations with him?” Jonas asked bluntly, his straightforwardness making Yeosang increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. You nodded slowly as more tears formed.

“I see,” Jonas said softly but offered nothing else. “And then what happened?”

You spent the next several minutes telling as detailed an account of what happened from the multiple times you and Hongjoong had sex to his odd changes in behavior until you reached the day of your return.

“I had woken up to find Hongjoong missing so I went looking for him,” you explained, sniffling. “I found him crouched by the stream close to the cabin. I could tell something was wrong but when I tried to get him to open up to me, he lashed out,” you continued. “He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against a tree. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die…”

Yeosang resisted the urge to take your hand, to comfort you. He knew he couldn’t do those things in front of Jonas. “Then he seemed to come to his senses and dropped me. He said he couldn’t control it and then he ran away. I couldn’t chase him because I had not seen which direction he had gone in,” you pressed on.

“So I went back to the cabin to wait for him.”

“And did he come back?” Jonas asked, his voice void of curiosity. You nodded, biting your lip to hold in a sob. “He did,” your voice broke as you spoke. “We talked and then he kissed me. He… tried to…” you choked out a sob, your grip on your sheets tightening.

Yeosang couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned forward, taking your hand gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t think you need to say it. I can assume what happened.” You looked up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks. “So you ran?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention again. You nodded. “I did,” you answered.

“I ran as fast as I could through the forest until I ran into Yeo – Pastor Kang,” you explained, looking down at your hands. “After that, everything is a blur.”

Jonas nodded wordlessly as he watched you and Yeosang in mild curiosity. “I see,” he said. “Well, I must return to the church. Thank you for your honesty and your testimony, Miss Y/N,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It has been most informative.”

He bid you both farewell and turned to leave, closing the door behind him leaving you and Yeosang alone. You shifted in bed, readjusting the covers as Yeosang moved to sit on the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft and full of caution. You looked up to meet his gaze. “Yes?” you asked, voice hoarse. Yeosang picked up the glass of water and handed it to you, watching as you took a gulp before handing it back, thanking him.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he continued as he set the glass aside and turned his gaze on you. The look on your face must have caused him hesitation because he glanced away, not speaking. Perhaps he was seeking the right words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up against your pillows more, the bed linens rustling around you, causing Yeosang to turn his head back to look at you. You locked eyes, staring at one another before he finally spoke.

“The other night while I was on patrol, I ran into Hongjoong,” he started, looking down at his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I asked him about why he’s doing this and he said he wants to take the futures away from the men who killed him.” Yeosang fell silent as he let his words sink in.

You blinked slowly, waiting for him to continue his story. When he didn’t, you spoke up. “Didn’t my father lead the group?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang nodded silently, staring at his knuckles that were starting to turn white.

“And when I asked him if he planned to kill you–” Yeosang’s voice cracked and he stopped talking momentarily. You looked up from the sheets to the young pastor. “What did he say?” you asked, a lump forming in your throat as you waited for his response.

Yeosang took a deep breath, regaining control over himself before he sat up and looked up to meet your gaze. “He said he will kill you. He no longer has feelings for you. He only cares about retribution.”

Your stomach sank as he spoke, each word like a knife to your gut. You knew the Hongjoong you loved was gone but still learning that he wanted to kill you stung. It felt like someone taking a hot iron and jabbing it into your heart and twisting. You brought your hand up, placing it over your heart as your gaze fell back to the sheets. “I see,” you whispered.

You heard the sound of movement, the floor creaking as Yeosang stood and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took your free hand in both of his, the warmth of his hand a nice reprieve for your cold, clammy hands.

“I won’t let him,” he said softly. “Whatever I have to do, I will not let him hurt you.”

You looked up, meeting his soft gaze. “Thank you,” you replied, placing your other hand on top of his. “For telling me and for protecting me as you have while I was unresponsive. My parents told me that you stayed by my side the whole time I was on death’s door. Thank you for that as well, Yeosang.”

He said nothing, merely nodding his head, lowering his eyes to your joined hands. A thought crossed his mind and he briefly entertained bringing it up and after some internal back and forth, he let out a sigh, looking back up.

“I know this is not the time to speak of this, but before all of this, I had promised your parents that I would marry you,” he started, piquing your interest and you tilted your head slightly, curious as to what he was about to say.

“And after everything that’s happened, I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d like to keep that promise,” Yeosang continued. “If you’ll still have me that is.” Your expression remained stoic as you regarded him, mulling over his words before a small smile broke across your face. It was the first genuine smile Yeosang had seen on your face in weeks.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a nod. “Especially if it will get me out of this house,” you added to which Yeosang looked mildly confused. You glanced towards the door before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“I love my parents and I’m thankful for them taking me back but if I am to be honest,” you explained. “They’ve been insufferable since I returned. Especially after the sickness. Mother has barely slept or left my side and father looks worried all the time. I think getting married might ease their worries. Especially if it’s to you.”

Yeosang couldn’t help the small surge of pride from your revelation. “I’d like to marry you very much,” you added as you settled back against your pillows. Yeosang recognized the fatigue that took over your features and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll speak with your father,” he announced, lifting one of his hands to feel your cheek. “Your skin feels a little cool,” he added. “Get some rest.” You nodded as he stood up, leaning down to press a tender kiss against the top of your head. “Thank you for speaking with us,” he added as you settled down, reaching to pull the blankets up slightly and tuck you in.

As you slipped into slumber, Yeosang walked quietly to the door, opening it and shutting it softly before descending the stairs. Your father was sitting at the table while your mother tended to the pot hanging over the fire in the hearth. As Yeosang entered the room, they both turned to look at him.

“She’s resting,” he announced. “She’s exhausted herself.” Your mother let out a small sob and your father nodded, sighing heavily. Yeosang hesitated as your mother went back to the pot before he walked a few paces closer. “I’d like to speak to you about something,” he announced, drawing their attention again.

Yeosang looked from your mother to your father who gestured for him to sit. Yeosang waved his hand. “It won’t take long,” he explained. “But before, you asked me if I would marry your daughter to save her reputation. Your reputation,” he started.

He could see the solemn shame on your father’s face as he recalled the reasons for marrying you off before. “Look, Pastor Kang,” your father started. “You don’t have to do it anymore. I don’t think our reputation is worth saving at this point.”

Yeosang remained silent as your father spoke. “It was wrong of me to ask that a man of God take a… my daughter,” he explained. “So if you’d like to back out of it, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Yeosang let out a small huff before he moved over to the table, taking the seat across from your father who looked up in shock at the sudden movement. “I know that before you were trying to save face because of Y/N’s relationship with Hongjoong but I want you to know that I didn’t care about her relationship with Hongjoong before and I don't care about it now. If your offer is still on the table, I’d like to take it. If not, I’d still like to marry your daughter.”

Your mother let out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her hand as your father looked from her to Yeosang, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t understand… She’s not… she’s been…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out which worked out in Yeosang’s favor.

“I don’t care who she’s lain with. I care about your daughter, daresay, even love her. I wouldn’t care if she was a virgin or not. I want to protect her in any way I can,” Yeosang argued. He could tell by the looks on their faces, your parents couldn’t fathom why he wanted to marry you but after a moment of silence, your father finally nodded and stood up, Yeosang following suit. Your father held out his hand and Yeosang shook it.

“You have our permission and blessing. As soon as she is well enough.”

The following day, Yeosang had a notice hung up on the door of the church, announcing his intention to marry you and that should no one object, it would happen much sooner than later. As he was a pastor and in good standing with the village, absolutely no one objected to his intentions and all that was left was for you to get better.

It had been a few days since the notice was hung and you were still bed ridden as instructed by the village doctor. You had taken over mending for your mother since you could do that from the comfort of your bed. Yeosang visited you daily and most of the time you sat in a comfortable silence as you sewed and he read. Sometimes he would read to you while you worked. He always left before dinner, despite your mother insisting he stayed.

Once you were allowed to leave your bed, your activity increased and you started helping with small chores as your strength returned, as did the color to your skin. You’d been sickly and it had shown but you were starting to look healthy again.

Your mother traded with one of the neighbors to get some new material with which to make a dress for you to wear at the wedding. You helped by giving your input but it was still a modest piece of clothing that you could always incorporate into your wardrobe.

As the day approached, you saw less and less of Yeosang and were concerned that maybe he was getting cold feet until he came to visit the night before the wedding. He finally agreed to stay for dinner and it was the first time you left your room to eat.

Normally you would have eaten in your room but your finished dress hung in there and you were adamant on not letting Yeosang see it until the wedding. A silly thing to some but to you, it was important and when you had told him, he agreed that if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Your mother had worked tirelessly that day preparing a nice roast dinner with boiled potatoes and a few other vegetables your mother had pulled from the garden. She’d also spent a good portion of the day preparing a nice dessert.

You sat across from Yeosang who sat between your mother and your father. It dawned on you as you sat there that in less than 24 hours, Yeosang would be your husband. Your thoughts were interrupted by your father who spoke up.

“And news on the demon situation?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up as you looked at him before turning your attention to Yeosang. “I hardly think that kind of conversation is appropriate for the table, dear,” your mother responded, very pointedly. Yeosang glanced at you before speaking. “Nothing of note. No one else has died–” he explained.

“Praise be,” your mother interjected and you could see Yeosang attempt to keep his expression neutral but you knew deep down he was fighting the urge to laugh. “But he’s still out there and that’s all the more reason to be cautious,” Yeosang continued.

“He’s still after Y/N and he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.”

Silence fell over the table and you continued to eat, keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself. You knew you could always talk about them with Yeosang but around your parents, you had to keep a facade. You couldn’t let it slip. Not now.

After dinner and dessert, Yeosang announced his departure. You walked him to the door as he thanked your parents for the meal. Once at the door, you stepped out onto the stoop, shutting the door behind you for a little bit of privacy with your soon-to-be husband.

“Are you alright?” he asked, no doubt wondering about your mental state after the conversation at the table. You nodded silently, reaching up to adjust the fastening of his cloak. “I am,” you answered when he continued to stare.

“I know Hongjoong is gone. The Hongjoong I knew anyway. Whatever is left is a shell of him. And inside, an evil is parading around and masquerading as him. It must be stopped and banished,” you explained. Yeosang’s fingers curled gently around your wrist, eyes boring into yours.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Yeosang said softly. “I know you envisioned a life with him and that you loved him deeply. I’m not seeking to replace him,” he continued. You forced a smile. “But tomorrow I fully intend to promise myself to you. I know I can never make up for what you’ve lost—”

You leaned in, pulling Yeosang into a kiss, cutting him off. It was a chaste kiss without any ulterior motives. As you pulled back, a smile crossed your face. “I know,” you answered. “I don’t want you to replace Hongjoong. I just want to live my life.”

Yeosang’s hand moved up to cup your cheek as he stared into your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Yes,” you answered as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

It was something you hadn’t experienced since before everything went to hell. Hongjoong had been the only one to show you this form of affection and getting from Yeosang now was something you weren’t prepared for.

“Tomorrow, then,” he whispered, standing back up and giving you a smile, one you returned as he slowly backed away before he turned and walked through the darkness until his clothing blended into the night.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated quietly.

The morning passed in a blur as you were woken up by your mother and told to bathe, cleaning yourself. Your father had gone to the meeting house to prepare for the ceremony as he would actually be the one officiating your wedding. You dressed in silence, aided by your mother who then stood back to admire her handiwork on your dress. It was a simple dress, cut from plain cloth but it was still a work of art.

You sat in your room, nervously twiddling your thumbs and getting up every once in a while to pace. After what felt like an eternity, your mother finally opened your door and told you it was time. You followed her downstairs and stopped just before entering the parlor. Your mother turned to you and smiled.

“It’s just us, Yeosang, and a few of the neighbors,” she said softly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t want too many people here. So I’ve asked Eliza and her family to join us.” You smiled, thanking her for taking your feelings into consideration.

The door to the parlor opened and your father appeared, looking between you and your mother. “Well, are we ready?” he asked. You looked up and nodded before following your mother and father inside.

It was as your mother had said. Your parents, Eliza and her parents, and Jonas were present as Yeosang had no family in the village. He’d moved to the village on his own and since then, Jonas had become an unofficial father of sorts.

You crossed the room behind your parents and stopped when you reached Yeosang’s side. His eyes followed you as you walked and you felt a surge of pride inside yourself when you realized he was unable to take his eyes off you.

Your father stood before you, the others in attendance standing behind you as you waited for your father to start speaking. “Marriage is a part of our lives here and ingrained into each and every one of us. It is a civil matter but of course, a spiritual one as well,” your father said, reading from a page in his journal. You felt Yeosang’s hand close around yours, fingers lacing with your own, helping to calm and ground you,

“Before me stands two young adults who have agreed to enter in this union, knowing fully that it is a promise they make not only before their family but also to one another. Yeosang,” your father turned to look at him.

“Will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, lead her, comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Your heart skipped as you realized this was it. The vows were simple and to the point. There was never any extreme pomp and circumstance to weddings in the village as shown by the fact that it was just you and your family and one of your oldest friends.

You glanced up at Yeosang who met your gaze before looking at your father, a smile gracing his face. “I will,” he answered. Your heart calmed a moment before you realized it was your turn, eyes widening as your father turned to look at you.

“Y/N, will you have this man as your wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you obey him, follow him, help him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to him, as long as you both shall live?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You felt Yeosang give your hand a gentle squeeze and you looked up to meet his gaze, his soft brown eyes looking back at you. A calm settled over you as you looked into his eyes before responding without taking your eyes off him.

“I will.”

The moments that followed afterwards were a blur as the short ceremony concluded and your mother returned to the kitchen to make sure dinner was ready. Eliza and her mother joined while your father and Eliza’s father, Abel, stepped outside for a moment, leaving you alone with your new husband in the parlor.

You stared at the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a simple one you had painted not long ago of the wildflower field you used to visit with Hongjoong. It felt like a lifetime ago now. You heard Yeosang approach you cautiously, his footsteps careful.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice quiet. You drew your attention away from the painting and turned to look at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. You nodded, a smile growing on your face before you crossed the distance. Before you had the chance to say or do anything, the door to the parlor opened and Eliza peered in, a smirk on her face.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced.

Yeosang led the way to the kitchen where everyone had already gathered around the table. You joined them, sitting across from Yeosang and next to your mother. The dinner was not unlike the one your mother had made the night before. Instead of a roast, she made a baked chicken with all the fixings.

The conversation around the table was mostly between your parents, Eliza’s, and Jonas but occasionally Yeosang or you would chime in. After dinner and desserts, you headed upstairs with your mother to pack whatever you planned to take with you.

Yeosang had been given a modest house when he moved to the village. Jonas lived in the church but Yeosang had opted to live on his own instead of moving in with another family. Since his home already had everything you would need, you were only taking the necessities, your clothes, a few personal possessions, and your books.

Your father and Eliza’s father carted everything over and once you were ready, you left your parent’s home for the last time. Your mother cried, as you expected she would but you reminded her you weren’t that far away and you could always come visit which Yeosang agreed with.

Eliza and her mother returned home and once your father returned and you said your goodbye to him, you left with Yeosang and the elder pastor. The walk was silent between the three of you but you were grateful for the silence. Jonas accompanied the two of you until you passed the church where he bid the two of you goodnight and went inside, leaving you and your new husband to walk the last stretch to his home alone.

You had never seen Yeosang’s home but you knew it was a one story three-quarter house. Once inside, Yeosang gave you a very short tour which consisted of the living room, a kitchen off from which a well sized and stocked pantry was as well as a borning room which made your cheeks burn.

You were married now and expected to carry out your duties as a woman and a wife. You were sure Yeosang would want children at some point but perhaps that talk would take place after the demon had been dealt with.

Yeosang showed you to the two bedrooms, one at the back of the house off the kitchen, which was where he had already claimed as his own bedroom, and one in the front which was an offshoot from the vestibule. “You are more than welcome to have your own bedroom,” he explained as you returned to the kitchen. “I don’t mind sleeping alone.”

Ignoring his statement, you removed your cloak and draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table before turning to him. “What’s upstairs?” you asked, looking at the ceiling. Yeosang followed your gaze. “Attic space,” he explained. “It’s just one large space.” He turned to look at you. “Would you like me to make the bed in the other bedroom?” he asked.

You shook your head, crossing the distance. “We’re married,” you started. “We don’t have to sleep in separate beds,” you explained, taking his hand and bringing it up to press your cheek into his palm. “We don’t have to share a bed if you aren’t comfortable with it,” he whispered but you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I want to.”

A silence fell between you as you stared up at him, eyes flickering down to his lips and back up. Yeosang must have read your actions because he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I know we’re married,” he started. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You leaned in, lips inches from his. “I know,” you answered. You could feel a single tremor course through his body prompting you to place one of your hands against his chest and push him back until he was against the wall beside the door to the bedroom.

“I want this,” you continued. “We’re married so there’s no reason we can’t do what married couples do.” You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to?” Yeosang stared at you for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes before carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you think I don’t want to, then you’re wrong,” he whispered, eyes searching yours, admiring the sparkle that seemed to gleam from them. “Then do it,” you said softly. “Make me your wife in every sense of the word, Yeosang.”

The moment his name left your lips, Yeosang pulled you into a searing kiss. Your lips parted and to your surprise, you felt his tongue slip past your lips into your mouth. His hands trailed down to your hips, grabbing at your dress and pulling you closer, pressing your body against his.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, pulling back, letting out a groan as your hands pulled at his clothes. “I am,” you replied, one of your hands sliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck until your fingers curled into his hair.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” you added, tugging gently, forcing his head back and exposing his neck to you. Yeosang let out a soft groan at the sensation but he submitted completely to your touch. “Then go ahead, wife,” he murmured as your lips left a trail of kisses down the side of his neck.

With your free hand, you started to pull at the buttons of his clothes, undoing them one by one until his overcoat was open. You pulled back only enough to push it off him, letting it fall to the floor before going back in, nipping at the skin of his neck as your hands continued to undo his shirt.

Yeosang’s hands stayed at your hips as you continued to undress him. It wasn’t entirely lost on you that this might be the first time anyone had touched him like this and yet, his movements seemed to match yours, falling into a rhythm as he started to pull at your own clothes. Once you managed to remove his shirt, he stopped you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.

You were about to ask what was wrong when he spoke, confirming your suspicions.

“I need to tell you,” he said, breathlessly. “I’ve never done this before. This is entirely new to me,” he continued, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in, cutting him off with a kiss. “I know,” you replied. “It’s okay,” you reassured him before taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom with you, not even bothering to shut the door as you led him over to the bed and guided him to sit.

He watched as you slowly started to remove your dress, a slight pink tinge reaching his cheeks as you undressed. “Shouldn’t I do that?” he asked softly. You fought the urge to smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you took his hands and guided them.

He maintained eye contact as he finished undoing the buttons of your dress and carefully pulled the fabric away from your body leaving you in your undergarments. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back, climbing onto the bed and forcing him to scoot further onto the mattress before straddling his hips.

One of his hands moved to the small of your back, fingers tracing a circular pattern against you through the thin material of your chemise. You took his face in your hands, studying his expression before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he mumbled against your lips. You shook your head, pressing another kiss and then another. “Well you are,” he replied. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he added between kisses, making you giggle, breaking your focus. “Am I?” you asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. He nodded silently, his free hand moving up to the side of your neck.

“I’m not just saying that because you’re my wife,” he continued. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Y/N.” You bit your lips to try and hide your smile but failed to stop the grin spreading across your face. “You’re beautiful, too, you know,” you replied.

“There’s something so… ethereal about you,” you added. Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he responded. “I’m not–” he started to say but you stopped him, pressing your fingers to his lips. “No, you are,” you retorted. “You’re beautiful, too, Yeosang.”

He didn’t respond, merely looked up at you before nodding, accepting your praise. “If you insist, my dear.” You nodded, pulling him close. “I do,” you answered. “In fact, I readily insist.” You sealed it with another kiss, moaning softly as his hands slid down your back until he had your waist in his hands.

He pulled you against him, your core grinding against him, brushing against the fabric of his trousers. You pulled back, placing both your hands on his chest and pushed, urging him to lie back against the mattress. “Lie down,” you said, which finally made him follow.

“You may be my husband,” you said, leaning over to kiss him once, twice, before speaking again. “And you may make all the decisions regarding our lives,” you continued, stopping him when he tried to interject. “But in this bedroom,” you whispered, lips ghosting over his.

“I am the one in charge.” As you spoke, your hand slipped between your bodies, finding the waistband of his pants and slipped under it, finding his hard cock and taking it firmly in your hand. The hiss Yeosang let out was uncharacteristic but it filled you with pride to have such an effect on him.

“Y/N,” he started as your hand moved, stroking him slowly. “Yes?” you whispered, eager to hear what he had to say as you continued to jerk your hand. “I’m yours,” he responded, eyes fluttering shut as you watched his face. “I’ve always been yours.”

‘Always?’ you thought, wondering what he could possibly mean but you would worry about that later. You squeezed slightly as your hand continued to move, taking note of Yeosang’s responses, reading his body language like a book.

He let out a whine as you removed your hand from his pants before pulling back to undo the ties of his trousers and slowly pull them down until you could toss them aside, leaving him completely nude under you.

You climbed back over him, straddling his hips as you settled down, feeling the smooth underside of his cock against your slick core. Yeosang let out a shuddering groan, hands moving to your hips to still your movements.

You gave him a few moments to adjust to the new feeling before his hands moved again, pulling your skirt up. “Shouldn’t we remove this?” he asked, his voice shaky. You took his wrists and guided his hands up to the tie at the top of your chemise.

“Go ahead,” you simply responded. “Undress me.”

Yeosang hesitated before his fingers started to undo the ties, fumbling slightly as he did. Once it was untied, you merely pulled it off and dropped it off the side of the bed. You watched Yeosang’s eyes scanned your body, taking in the new sight before him.

After a few moments of silence and inaction, you took his hands again and guided them up to your chest. “You know you can touch me, right?” Yeosang nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s just all so new.”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his lips before sitting back up, slowly rolling your hips. You watched the way his eyes fluttered shut as you grinded against him before raising your hips slightly to reach between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his cock, lining the tip with your slit before you slowly sank down.

Yeosang let out a choked moan as your walls slowly swallowed his length. You resisted the urge to groan as he bottomed out, your pussy spasming around him as you both adjusted to the new feeling. “Yeosang?” you called softly, leaning over slightly and resting your hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

“Are you okay?”

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he licked his lips and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice. “M’okay,” he answered, words slightly slurred. “Just give me a moment.” You nodded, dipping down to kiss him gently.

After a few moments, and a few more kisses, his hands moved from your chest down to your hips, urging you to move. “Okay,” he said, eyes fluttering open. “I think I’m ready.” You bit back a smile as you nodded, raising your hips enough for him to slide out of you until just the tip was in and then sank back down.

Yeosang let out another moan, his eyes shutting again as a shudder ran through his body. “I’m okay!” he said suddenly. “Keep going, please.” You did as he asked, setting a slow and steady pace. “How does it feel?” you whispered, lips hovering over his.

“G-good,” he answered in a shaky voice. “Just good?” you asked teasingly. “I think I can do better than just good.” You moved faster, hips bouncing on him as you took his cock deeper. Yeosang let out a hiss that sounded an awful lot like a curse but you didn’t dwell on it.

Instead you angled your hips, driving his cock into your cunt at a new angle and making you moan loudly. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, fingers digging into your skin as his hips now bucked up to meet your movements.

“How about that? Is that better?” you asked breathlessly. Yeosang nodded erratically, moans slipping past his lips as you brought both of you closer and closer to the brink.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m not ready… I mean, I don’t want to — ” he fell silent but you were able to guess what he meant. “You don’t want it to end?” you asked, slowing your hips and rolling them instead. He nodded, hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

“Let’s change things up, shall we?” you asked. Yeosang opened his eyes slowly and looked up as you lifted off him, his cock slipping out of you. “What do you — ” he started as you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “You take over,” you said, lying back against the mattress and parting your knees. Yeosang hesitated before moving between your thighs.

You were about to reach for him but instead, he took himself in his hand and guided the head to your fluttering hole. He didn’t need to be urged or guided as he pressed into you, letting out a moan as he slid back into you.

Before you could offer any guidance, he moved his hips, thrusting into you experimentally. You let out a gasp as he moved and spread your legs further. Yeosang was careful not to lay his weight on top of you as he continued to thrust into you.

“Am I… I mean… is this right?” he asked, his voice breathless as he looked down at you with those warm brown eyes. You nodded, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a messy kiss that was full of tongue.

Your free hand found one of his and you took it, lacing your fingers with his as you felt the all too familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, the tension building in your body but before it could snap, Yeosang’s voice brought you out of it.

“I think I’m about to—”

“Do it,” you replied, cutting him off, your fingers curling into his hair. “Come inside me. Make me your wife,” you added, walls fluttering around his cock which drove him over the edge and he came with a groan, hips stilling as he released inside you. Your orgasm followed as he emptied himself inside you, making sure that you took every last drop with a few more thrusts before he finally stilled completely.

The next few minutes were a blur of panting, whispered praise on your end before Yeosang pulled his now soft cock out of you and rolled onto his back beside you. You lay there for a few more moments, eyes shut as you basked in the aftermath of your climax before you finally sighed and opened your eyes.

You sat up and turned your head to look at Yeosang who looked utterly spent beside you. Carefully you got up and walked out of the room to the kitchen to grab a cloth and wet it before returning to the bedroom. You wiped Yeosang down before yourself and then tossed the cloth aside before climbing into bed and pulling back the covers.

Yeosang muttered in protest as you pulled the linens up to cover your naked bodies. “Shouldn’t we put our night clothes on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he started to drift off to sleep. You rolled over to face him and smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “No,” you answered.

“We can sleep like this. Only we will know,” you added. You felt his arms encircle you, pulling your body closer as he muttered something that sounded like an agreement. Yeosang quickly fell into the embrace of slumber and you followed shortly thereafter, a dreamless sleep encompassing you both.

The calm before the storm.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago

Text

see where the night goes

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'only one bed' rated m wc: 867 cw: some borderline somnophilia-esque behavior? tags: forced proximity, unintentional cuddling, idiots to lovers, love confessions, implied sexual content

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

The full sized bed was covered in the ugliest plaid sheets Steve had ever seen, which was saying something since his own bed had been covered in ugly plaid sheets.

It looked like it would fall apart if Steve sat on it, let alone lay down on it.

"Bad news first or good news first?" Eddie asked as he walked into the room.

"There's more bad news? The broken down van and the storm knocking out the power everywhere but this inn isn't bad enough?" Steve responded, putting his hands on his hips as he watched Eddie sit on the bed.

Huh. Looked like it would manage to hold at least some weight, then.

"There's no other bed."

Steve shook his head.

"That's a joke."

"Nope," Eddie popped his lips together. "I did check the bathroom though and there's a decent shower with actual hot water, so. A win's a win?"

Steve groaned.

"Dude, this bed is not big enough for both of us," Steve gestured to the bed Eddie was sitting on. "It doesn't even look big enough for you."

"Sure it is. I slept in a twin until I was nearly 18. This will be like a California King!"

Steve knew he was trying to make light of the situation.

The van breaking down four hours from home on a night when the worst storm Indiana has seen in years decided to come through was only the beginning.

Eddie had lost his wallet somewhere between the van and his walk to a payphone, which meant he had to walk all the way back to the van without having called anyone. He was soaked and cold despite the air around them being relatively warm. By the time he got back to the van, someone had stopped to check on Steve, who had been panicking about Eddie getting lost. When they finally got towed to a repair shop, the mechanic told them he wouldn't be able to look at it until the morning and that from the sounds of it, they'd need to replace a handful of parts that were more money than either of them had with them.

A weekend trip to visit Robin at college had turned into an expensive nightmare.

And now, they would be sharing a very tiny bed.

Eddie and Steve had been closer lately, especially since Robin's classwork had made it impossible for her to visit much. But sharing a full sized bed?

"Well, guess I'll go shower. Maybe it'll help me feel less like everything is falling apart," Steve sighed.

"Okay, Eeyore."

Steve rolled his eyes, but ignored him.

They got ready for bed like they were dreading it, and maybe they were.

They both got into the bed, laying on their sides facing away from each other, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from the other.

The rain pelted the roof, and lightning flashed in the distance, but it seemed like the storm was almost past.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Sorry about tonight."

"Nothing you could do, Eds."

He felt Eddie shift, but they still weren't touching.

"I guess. Still sorry though."

"Yeah, me too."

Sleep fell over them, the exhaustion of the day hitting them hard as soon as their bodies were horizontal.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Steve was sweating, which wasn't completely unusual, but definitely rare when he hadn't woken up screaming from a nightmare.

He had something, no, someone, in his arms.

Eddie.

He was curled around Eddie entirely, his arms around him, his hard dick pressing into his ass.

Eddie was still asleep, breathing softly, chest rising and falling slowly.

Steve needed to wake him up, or at least get up so he could put some space between them until his dick calmed down.

But just as he went to pull his arm away, Eddie turned around in his arms and smiled in his sleep.

And then his eyes fluttered open.

His smile faded.

"Sorry, let me-" As Eddie started to pull away, Steve tightened his arms.

"A minute."

Steve sometimes said he needed a minute like this when the kids were all yelling about things he didn't quite understand or when Robin had been rambling on for too long.

Sometimes, when he and Eddie were just hanging out, he would say it like he just had too much going on in his brain.

Like now.

Steve was looking at Eddie, really looking.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I might love you."

Eddie blinked back at him, mouth agape.

"You think you might?" His voice was quiet, hesitant.

"Yeah."

"And this is...because of us sleeping in bed together or...?"

"No. It's because when we have a shitty day that could turn into another shitty day tomorrow, I'm still just happy to be with you for it. I didn't...I guess it didn't really hit until now," Steve admitted.

Eddie gulped.

"And you think that's...love?"

"I think that's part of it. I also think I'd like to kiss you."

Eddie let out a small breath, shaky as Steve pulled him flush against his front.

"You would?"

"If that's okay."

"Is that all?" Eddie smirked, obviously implying that he could feel Steve's dick against his thigh.

"We'll see where else the night goes."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed

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stairain · 2 years ago

Text

In the Pouring Rain.

You're driving home and there’s a storm incoming, but pulling over and never pulling out seems more than satisfactory.

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, car sex, praise, nicknames, riding, pain during sex, creampie, reader feels guilty for literally everything, he is so very gentle with you.

WC: 4.1K

You were sitting in the driver's seat of Spencer’s car, looking out the window as the car radio softly played. It was raining out. As he drove, you tore your gaze away from the window and looked over to him. You could barely make out his features, it was dark out, and the only light in the car was that of the passing street lights.

He glances quickly at you, then back at the road. He took a sip of his coffee as he continued to drive.

"You doing okay? You’re quiet tonight."

You’re snapped out of your trance and nod slowly. “Yeah.. Spence. Just stressed from work, is all..” You turn away from him once more and look at the rain droplets pelting against the windshield.

He sighs and looks over at you again, still driving carefully. He’s heard that before. But he knows not to push the issue, and just lets you think.

"Is there anything I can do?"

“I think I just need to.. calm down, a bit..” You mutter, still not looking at him but instead playing with your fingers anxiously.

He nods and his face softens as he looks over at you. He has a look of concern on his face. "Do you need to stop and just get out and stretch or something? Maybe just pull over and take a few deep breaths before we drive the rest of the way home, or do you feel like you want to get home quickly and just sit and try to relax there?"

“Yeah.. Yeah, do you think you could pull over for a bit?” The rain is coming down harder now, and you’ve always been wary about driving in this weather. You didn’t need the stress of safety adding onto your already anxious mood.

Spencer nods and slows down. "Of course I can, no problem. The weather is getting crazy out here lately." He pulls over and parks the car, taking the car out of drive. He turns to you and seems concerned. Then he smiles. "Do you think a hug and a few deep breaths would help?" he asks. He waits for you to make the final call.

The loud patter of the rain outside calms you down a bit, along with the soft and gentle tone of his voice. You unbuckle your belt and turn to him. It’s a few moments that pass by before you take a deep breath and climb over the center console, sitting in his lap.

He carefully wraps his arms around you, and hugs you tightly. You feel his soft and warm embrace. The smell of his cologne surrounds you. You feel safe and protected in his arms. It's very calming and comforting, and you feel all the tension melt away. You take a few deep, calming breaths, which helps to further soothe you.

"How's that? A little better?" He asks, before kissing your head and just hugging you.

You’re sitting sideways in his lap, and pressing tight against his warm chest. The once pounding beat of your heart gradually slows down as he holds you, and after a few moments you nod. “Yes.. Thank you, Spence.”

You feel him nodding and stroking your hair softly, seeming perfectly content in the moment with just holding you. He smiles softly and kisses your cheek. A few minutes of comfort go by before he speaks again. "Shall we continue on?"

You look out the window and it looks like the rain has done everything but stopped. It’s storming at this point, and you feel your heart beating faster at just the thought of driving back in these conditions. “I think it’s best if we stay here for a while..”

Your boyfriend nods, seeming to understand your concerns about the storm. He is pretty cautious himself when it comes to driving in bad weather. He gently rubs your shoulder, and seems content just holding you - he's a physical touch loving person in that way. He loves to be close to you like this.

"Okay. Do you want to keep talking? Or just sit and cuddle like this for a while? We can do whatever you like.” he says with a kind and soft smile, his voice showing his affection.

You look up at him with a smile on your face. It didn’t look like the storm would be letting up anytime soon, so you’d be stuck here for a while. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t mind what we do.”

He blushes a little at your sweet words, and strokes your hair. His eyes are warm and soft. He seems happy just to be with you, and having you in his arms, no matter where you are. You feel safe and secure in him. A few minutes more go by, and he finally speaks. "Can I ask you a question?"

“Of course, Spence.” You look up at him.

He seems a bit hesitant and almost a bit nervous to ask, as this is not an easy question for him to ask, but he pushes through it and decides to just ask honestly and be vulnerable, because you are important to him. "What do you see in me?" he asks quietly.

You give him a look of confusion before sitting up and leaning against the door of the car. You scrunch your eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

Spencer sighs and looks away, seeming embarrassed. He doesn't like asking for reassurance like this, since he doesn't want you to feel obligated or pressured. He also doesn't want you to think he has low self esteem. But he pushes past it and looks at you again, with a serious look in his eyes.

"What makes me different from the other men you know, and why do you choose to be with me?"

“W-Where’s this coming from, Spence? Did something happen or..?” Your boyfriend was never like this, in fact, you were usually the one who asked him these types of questions, so you were puzzled as to why things have suddenly flipped.

He sighs softly and rubs his eyes. "I just... I get insecure sometimes. You are amazing, and I just don't fully understand why you are with me or what you see in me. I don't have the best self esteem sometimes. I know I have my good qualities, but.. I still get those intrusive thoughts sometimes. It's been on my mind lately and I just needed to ask... that's all."

You feel yourself melt at his words and lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. One of your hands moves to hold his cheek as you begin to talk.

“No one makes me feel safe like you do.. You know, most people if I asked them to pull over because of the rain or.. or because I had a hard day, they’d just brush it off or tell me to wait until we were home..” Your voice was quiet, and the rain outside was almost drowning you out.

“You’re caring.. You’re so caring, Spencer. On nights where I can’t sleep and wake you up, you never get mad at me, you’re always just.. there. You hold me until I fall asleep, even if it takes hours, you’re always there for me.”

He looks over at you, and the warm and thoughtful expression on his face is enough to make your heart flutter. His eyes seem to hold so much sincerity and affection towards you, and you feel loved and cherished. He can see the sincerity on your face too, and can see a little tear forming in your eye. He is so happy to hold such a lovely woman in his arms, and he just can't believe how lucky he is. He pulls you in a passionate kiss, which he hopes will convey how much he loves you in a better way than he can with words.

You’re caught off guard as he suddenly grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you into a passion filled kiss. Your eyes widen momentarily before they shut and you melt into his hold.

Spencer holds you tightly, and the intensity of the kiss makes your heart race faster. For a moment, it's like the world has slowed down and everything else has vanished - only you two remain, and you're completely immersed in the moment. There is a passion and intensity to the kiss, as you can tell he wants to make sure he shows you how much you mean to him - but there is still love and affection too, and not just lust. Everything about it is just so perfect, and you feel swept up in his arms. The intensity of it is undeniable.

His hands start to move their way through your hair, gently grabbing it as he deepens the kiss. You softly moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hands in your hand and his lips on yours.

He kisses you with all the passion in him. You can feel the love he feels for you radiating off him, and he kisses you with such force and intensity, you can almost sense his adoration and desperation for you. Every part of him just wants you. His breathing starts to become deep and heavy as the kiss progresses, and the sounds of the rain around you seem to dim a bit, as the world narrows down to just being you two, and the intensity of the moment. There is a softness but also a forcefulness in his touch, it's a combination that's intoxicatingly perfect.

You reach out and hold his shoulders in your trembling hands, and the pure love and passion he’s putting into the kiss is becoming quickly overwhelming. You pull back and catch your breath.

“S-Spence..”

His face is red and he is slightly out of breath after such an intense kiss. He tries to catch his breath, while looking at you with his eyes still showing so much affection for you. If you were ever unsure before about how much he loves you - there is no doubting it now. He smiles at you, his eyes sparkling with love and affection. The way he looks at you makes it clear that he is willing to do anything for you, and he would never let anything bad happen to you. He strokes your hair with a soft and gentle hand.

"Are you okay?"

You can’t help but swoon at his concern, he truly loved you more than anything. You nod and swallow. “Please.. Kiss me again..”

His expression softens even further at your words, and he nods happily, leaning over and kissing you again, with just as much intensity as before. You feel the warmth of him through your lips, and are completely swept up in the moment. The feelings of love and attraction are so overwhelming as you kiss, it feels like you're floating. He pulls away just slightly from the kiss, and looks at you, with a slight smile on his face. "Happy?"

When he pulls away, you shake your head. “I think I need more, Spence.” Your tone is teasing and filled with lust and love.

He smiles a bit more, and nods - completely on board with that idea. He is still slightly out of breath from before, but your request has just turned him on even more. His smile grows into a smirk as he leans in and starts kissing you again - a passionate and hot kiss. His smile is playful and mischievous and there is passion behind his eyes - the mix of it all is just something else. It's like you two are perfectly intertwined.

You whimper into the kiss, and your desperation to be taken care of by him grows with every second that passes. You grab one of his hands that’s in your hair and press his gentle hands up against the curves of your chest, making him grab a handful and squeeze.

He looks surprised at you taking control and moving your hand there, he looks into your eyes with a slightly playful and surprised look, which turns into a smile. He slowly leans forward and begins kissing down your neck. "Do you want to continue?" he asks.

You throw your head back gently against the window, and moan out your answer. “Y-Yes, please..”

Spencer’s hand reaches down to your skirt and flips up the fabric, exposing your underwear for him. He bites his lip and runs a tentative finger over your covered clit. You jump at the feeling and clench your thighs around his arm.

“Leave them open, honey.”

You nod and spread your legs slowly once more, trying to leave them open for him, just like he told you to.

His middle finger just barely started rubbing over your panty clad cunt, and when he pulls away, you can see your slick coating his finger. He’s got a cocky smirk on his face as he looks at it and practically forces you to look at it.

“You’re soaked, baby. Look at you..” You whine in embarrassment and throw your head back in shame. He chuckles and slips it into his mouth.

“Spence.. Stop it, please..”

His finger leaves his mouth and is against your skin again in an instant. This time, when his hand returns to you panties, he pulls them to the side, exposing your dripping pussy.

“Fine, fine, Sweetheart.”

He bites his lip at the sight and feels his breath hitch at the way the soft light from the street light makes your slick glisten against your hole.

You stay quiet, a bashful blush cast on your skin as he admires you. Spencer tries to look out the windows and windshield to see if anyone is around, but the pouring rain is acting like a curtain, the harsh storm hiding you two from the outside world.

His hands are off of you and instead are fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. Once he gets them down, he pulls you up from the way you’re sitting sideways in his lap and makes you straddle him.

It’s a bit of a squeeze, and you try to reach down to push his seat back, but he beats you to it.

“Let me do the work, sweetie.”

The man reaches under the seat and lifts the bar, making his seat quickly roll back into the car. You smile at him and lean forward to rest your wrists on the seat.

“Thank you, Sir..”

After you’ve allowed yourself to get comfortable on his lap, he reaches down with a desperate huff and pulls down his own underwear, and his thick cock springs out from the fabric, and he practically moans out in relief at no longer being constricted.

You can feel the drool pooling in your mouth as your eyes flash down to his dick, then to his face, then back down to his dick. He reaches a hand down and wraps his palm around the base of himself, and uses the other hand to flip up the front of your skirt again. And as expected, you’re dripping arousal on his pants, panties still pushed to the side.

Spencer guides the tip of his cock and rubs it against your glistening folds, making the both of you shudder and moan at the feeling. The rain was cold, but you were impossibly hot. The warmth and wetness of your pussy was already proving to be too much, and he hasn’t even slipped inside yet.

“Please.. Let me take care of you, angel..”

He sounds so sincere, there’s no possible way you could do anything but agree that Yes, he needs to take care of you. You nod, and lift yourself on your thighs slightly, making room for him to slide right into your awaiting hole.

Taking a deep breath, he holds his cock underneath your trembling body, and slowly lowers you onto him. The feeling has him clenching his fist against the fabric of your skirt, and ripping the skin of his lip. And as you feel his head pry open your walls, it takes you everything not to lean back and set off the horn.

“My god.. So sweet…” He whispers into the air. You always had a hard time fully taking him into you, but he was always there to help you. And tonight was no different, your face scrunched in pain as he broke you in, sliding into you like a shoe three sizes far too small.

“I-I’m sorry.. Spence.”

But he’s quick to shush you and make sure there’s none of that.

“Shh, love.. Stop that.. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m right here, alright? You’re alright… I’ll take care of you, Princess.”

He wipes the fallen tears on your face and kisses the tracks of them, still slowly sliding your shaking body down onto his all too hard and big cock.

“You’re so big.. I..”

You can’t finish your sentence, not now. You cut yourself off with a loud moan when you finally feel the insides of thighs flush against his hips. You did it.

“I know, baby, I know.. It’s alright..”

Spencer runs a comforting hand through your hair and god does it take all the power possible for him not to lose control right then and there. With how you’re so tight around him, and how he almost loses his mind at how he can feel how wet you are, and how it’s dripping onto the skin of his hips and thighs.

You’re entirely too much for him, but he’s the same way for you.

You cry in his hold as you adjust to the pain, and he runs large hands over your in gentle, comforting touches. Despite being the very thing breaking you, he’s still treating you like the thinnest most fragile statue made of crystal.

Wanting to be the best for him and with the desperation to make him proud, you push aside the burn you’re feeling, and slowly start to lift your hips off of him, experimenting with the feeling. Although you’ve been blessed and fucked by him before, it never gets easier with just how big he is, and how small you are.

“Hey.. Hey. Love.. Are you sure you’re ready?”

His hand reaches out to grab your hip to still you, and you go to wipe the tears on your face. You sniff as you try to figure out what you want.

“Sp-Spence.. Help me please..”

You try to find his other hand, and when you do, you place it on your empty hip, letting it accompany the other one already gripping you. With eyes full of need, lust, and helplessness, you look up at him.

“Stop me when you want to, babygirl..”

Spencer’s grip tightens on your hips, and begins to lift you off his cock, before slowly pushing you back down. He sighs at the feeling of your drenched hole covering him with arousal and constricting around him, but his gaze never leaves your face, making sure you’re not crying too much.

Your cries eventually devolve into soft sniffles as you’ve adjusted to the intrusion that was your boyfriend. He’s still gently guiding you up and down his length, and you’ve moved your hands to grab at his shoulders, both your hands on either side of his head as you dug your nails into the fabric of his blazer every time he unintentionally stamped your spot with the tip of his cock.

“So beautiful, angel.. Can’t believe it.”

He leans up in his seat and wraps his arms around your waist now, holding you close with your chests touching each other. Your mouth is agape in soft whines and moans, and he presses light kisses all over your face, down to your neck, and stops to suck a mark right onto the sweaty skin of your throat.

“You’re mine, yeah?”

Spencer mutters in the softest tone imaginable, as he thrusts slowly up into you. Your pussy is sucking him up greedily, taking every blow he humps into you.

“Y-Yeah.. Yeah.. Yours..”

Every time he sheaths himself inside of you, the rough fabric of his shirt rubs right against your sensitive clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching a lot faster than expected, but you always finished remarkably fast with him anyways, he just knew exactly how to treat you.

At your words, he leans back into his seat and his hands find their way back to your hips, and he starts to thrust into you harder. The loud rain pounding onto the glass of the car windows, the wet slapping of your pussy against his pelvis, your breathy moans and his breathless groans. They fill the atmosphere and make you roll your eyes back in pure pleasure.

His cock feels so good inside of you, and the pain that once filled you was replaced by a dull ache in your womb to be absolutely filled to the brim.. You needed to be filled by his cock and his warm cum.

Not once this entire night have you done any of the work, you’re supposed to be riding him, bouncing on his cock and moaning like the slut you are for him, but instead, he’s sliding your cunt on his dick like you’re nothing but a doll.

Spencer wanted to take care of you, and he was getting exactly that. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he knew you did something that he could easily do for you instead.

His mouth parts in a groan and then a hiss, as his thrusts into you and his grip on your hips all become sloppier.

“I’m not lasting much longer than this, baby.. That alright with you?”

Your boyfriend reaches a hand down to rub tight circles on your clit, wanting to make you finish before he did, but god did you feel good around him. You always made it so hard for him to hold back.

You whine out a sweet ‘mhm’ and roll your eyes back at the feeling of him touching your already rubbed raw clit. But, to be fair, his fingers were a much better pleaser than the bottom of his shirt.

Clenching around him and crying out, you realized you’re cumming. Your orgasm creeps up onto you before you can even tell him, but there’s no possible way you can hide it from him. Not with the way you’ve become impossibly tighter, and he can feel the way you’re creaming around his cock. It’s dripping down to his underwear, soaking the fabric.

“Fuck.. Sir, I’m sorry..”

Spencer shakes his head and reaches forward and wraps his strong arms around your shuddering body. You’re shaking not only from the surprise orgasm, but also in fear you’ve disappointed him.

“You did so well, my angel.. It’s okay, you… fuck, you don’t need to apologize.. Never…”

His thrusts become more erratic as he speaks, and he’s no longer moving you on his cock. You’re pressed down hard against him as he humps into you and squeezes your body against his.

“In-Inside.. Is that alright with you, darling..?”

You’re beyond wrecked at this point, but you and your pussy are just about begging to be filled with his release. You nod and lean forward a bit to start desperately kissing at his neck, trying to find any way to make him cum faster, as well as to ground yourself.

“Oh fuck.. So so good for me.. I love you so much, baby.. Too much..”

And with a guttural groan, he delivers one last final thrust into you and with how tight he’s holding you against him, you can feel the way his hips are shaking as he empties his release into you. You’re moaning out his name as he pumps his hot cum inside of you, finally giving you what you want.

High pitched whimpers leave your lips as you feel it leaking out of you, painting the sticky walls of your pussy, and coating the glistening folds that shine in the faint light.

Spencer leans back into his seat and brings you down with him, holding your head with a firm palm as his chest heaves and his body calms down.

“You’re always such a good girl for me.. My angel..” He softly praises in your ear as he tries to soothe the both of you and bring you down from your respective highs. He knows it always takes more out of you than him, but the passion he holds for you always takes him by surprise.

The storm outside still hasn’t calmed down a bit, but you’re more than content to sit here with him until it passes over, even if you could feel his release spilling out of you and no doubt staining his car seats.

But what a trophy that would be.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #dom spencer reid x reader #dom!spencer #dom!spencer reid

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anilovie · 11 months ago

Text

My Love, My Life

Summary: You and Anakin are on a supply-run and get caught in a storm, forcing you to find shelter amidst growing tensions.

WC: 9.3k

CW: MDNI, pwp, oral (f recieving), mild size kink, shared shower, lots of fluff

AN: I swear this whole thing was revealed to me in a vision.

You and Anakin had been watching the weather closely since being sent out in the dingy little transport ship. The mission was to deliver supplies and medical aid to an incognito Obi-Wan on the planet Leaze— before the storm got bad enough where travel became impossible.

It was a simple mission, if not complicated by the sudden turn in their seasons, bringing forth a front of strong winds and heavy rains. Anakin could have even come himself, but the two of you played up the extent of Obi-Wan’s sustained injuries so that the Council would feel the need to send a medic – you – along for the ride as well. Any opportunity for you and Anakin to spend time together, you exploited.

Really, Obi-Wan just sprained a wrist. He was low on food, water ammo, batteries, and his clothes had been all torn up in a nasty skirmish with some bounty hunters. “A joyride,” Anakin referred to this mission as. That is, until you began the descent into Leaze’s misty, swirling skies.

In between tracking his location and watching the weather radar, Anakin’s focus was on bringing you down to the ground safely — with a little more emphasis on safe, since you were here. Thus, his hands gripped the controls with a bit more force than normal, jaw clenched and brows furrowed as he met each gust of wind with a controlled parry. He pulled the shuttle through the misty skies, stabilizing the rocking foundations through the whipping winds that threatened to toss you right out of the air.

You weren’t sure how he could even see. The rain and leaves that had stuck to the window obliterated any view– he likely wasn’t even trying to see. You realized this as he answered Obi-Wan’s incoming call without even sparing a glance out the window, fingers flying over the dashboard, weathering the elements through intellect and feeling alone.

“Anakin, Y/n, I trust that you’ve made it here safely,” Obi-Wan’s hologram displayed before you and Anakin. He looked alright – his disguise was off, for now, and he seemed to be someplace warm and out of the rain, a complete juxtaposition to the two of you.

As soon as the words warbled through, something slammed into the shuttle, rocking the foundations with an ominous groan as you began to plummet.

Anakin swore and yanked on the yoke, flicking some switches on the dashboard. “Working on it,” he bit through clenched teeth, huffing as the inferior ion engines sputtered and popped to life, breaking your fall. The shull continued to rattle and jerk, throwing you around in your seat despite being fully strapped up.

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Well, once you make it to the ground, don’t bother coming to my location. The storm is worse than the reports have indicated. Find shelter for yourselves – I can hold out another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’ll do more harm than good forcing you out there in these conditions. I am safe where I am.”

“Which is where?”

The transmission cut out for a moment, shuttering off and on again as sheets of rain pelted the aluminum roof. You caught the last half of his explanation. “--they offered a room for the night, though at a high price. I hope you brought extra credits.”

“Some,” Anakin grit.

“Perfect. Well, I won’t keep distracting you. It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Obi-Wan bid goodbye, his cheery tone outlandish among your current predicament. “Happy landings,” he bid, and the transmission cut off.

Your fingers dug into your armrests, trusting Anakin’s skill to see that wish through. He was still deeply concentrated, and more than a little stressed as he pulled the yoke and typed over multiple colorful buttons.

“Well, at least he’s safe,” you offered offhandedly, trying to diffuse the tension. Another hard gust of wind slammed into the hull, this time on your side, followed by a hard sheet of rain. You flinched.

The lights had begun to flicker a while ago, and now they shut off completely, leaving you in the pitch black. Your sharp intake of air was audible, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach as the assault on the ship heightened.

“It’s okay, I did that on purpose,” Anakin explained. You could hear the strain in his voice, the clacking of his fingers over the overworked dashboard. “We need more power to the engines and thrusters. It’ll be a bumpy landing either way, but–”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked.

“We’re almost there…”

Bracing yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the armrests, anticipation swirling around in your gut. You trusted him. You didn’t have to be so afraid. It was the weather you didn’t trust. Maker forbid you land in a pit of mud, swallowed up before you could escape.

A sudden jolt threw you forward, the sickening screech of bolts and rods fighting to hold the metal panels of the shuttle together drowning out all other senses. Inertia pushed you forward in your seat, and you would have gone flying out the windshield if it weren’t for the double straps tightened over your chest, the lap belt, and the death grip you had on your armrests.

Slowly, the sliding of the shuttle ship began to slow, the tension in the shuttle easing, parts settling back into place. Then, the sounds of the vicious rain pelting the roof returned, your body relaxing against the seat with a huff, blinking your eyes open to the pitch blackness of the hull.

“You okay?” Anakin worried, clicking out of his own seatbelt to reach for you.

You followed suit, fingers fumbling around in the dark for the clasps that would free you. “All good,” you released one set of straps, and Anakin found the two others for you. “Thanks.”

Another gust of wind nudged the shull forward, groaning under the pressure. Some lights flickered on, and there was Anakin fiddling with the control panel overhead so you could see.

“I don’t think we can stay here for very long, unfortunately,” he said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so stressed. “The ship appears to be sinking. We’ll have to pack a bag and get going.”

Abandon ship? In these conditions?

Again, your unshakable trust in him erased any fear in your mind. He’d done far riskier and more dangerous things – his own fear now was because of you. You’re safety.

But you were fine – just a little shaky as you stood and reached for the supply crates in the back, rifling through them for necessities, tossing them to Anakin to shove into a bag. You managed to get half of what you’d originally planned to drop off for Obi-Wan into two bags. Anakin shrugged the larger one over his shoulders, and you took the smaller one.

You’d both come prepared, already wearing rain ponchos, but it seemed like they’d do little good as Anakin kicked the stuck door open. The sound of the rain coming down was deafening, a roaring torrent that could easily sweep you away.

“Hold on to me,” Anakin yelled over the sound, and you hooked an arm around his, pulling you out of the ship with him.

Mud and rain splattered your face as your boots met the ground, and he immediately took off, dragging you with him. Again, your blind faith in him came in handy. All you could focus on was spluttering around the rain for any pocket of air you could find, trying to keep upright as your heels slipped and skidded in the mud, hoping you weren’t slowing Anakin down.

Of course you were slowing him down. You were no Jedi. But you both knew that, and he didn’t mind. Just wanted you out of the wind and rain so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

After what seemed like ages of the two of you fighting through the elements, narrowly avoiding trees and branches and sharp rocks, Anakin pointed out an abandoned shed in the distance. He ran for it, pulling you under the awning with him so he could pound on the door.

“No one’s here,” he spoke after a moment as you were still wiping water out of your eyes. Something clicked in the door, unlocking so Anakin could open it up and peer inside.

He found the light switch on the wall, flipping it up and down uselessly. “Power’s out,” he mumbled, searching around in the force for some mechanism of light. Apparently finding something, he released your hand. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood shivering by the closed door, dripping a puddle of water onto the ground as you waited for him to return. With your sight gone, your other senses were heightened – you could smell the dust of furniture long forgotten, hear the creeks of unkempt floorboards as Anakin explored the shed, and feel the bone-cold chill of the storm seeping in under the crack in the door. Wherever you were, it was very old, and likely abandoned.

Anakin came back around the corner brandishing a candle, shielding the flame with one hand as he made his way back to you.

“This looks like it was somebody’s home at one point,” he thought aloud, pointing to the way he just came. “That’s a kitchen over there, and there’s a loft with a bed in the back. Pretty sure I saw a shower, too. I can probably get the pumps running long enough to make use of it.”

You wouldn’t question how he could do that– sometimes it seemed like he had magical powers, even without the force.

“Is there a fireplace?” you wondered, shaking off your drenched poncho and stepping further in now that you could see. “Maybe I could heat up some water to use, warm this place up a bit, too.”

Anakin held the candle out before him, casting shadows over the interior of the little shed. Right in front of the door was a wooden stairway – more of a ladder – that led to what you assumed was an attic. Deciding to avoid any bats or rodents, you agreed to keep that shut and rounded the ladder to what looked like a tiny living room opposite the kitchen, separated by a thin wall.

A couple threadbare sofa-chairs sat dusty and weathered on the dull carpet, a table set before the both of them, and – jackpot – a little stone fireplace in the corner.

“The wood from outside is too wet to burn,” Anakin poked at the empty log pit. “But I could break down that table and use it as fuel…”

“Good idea,” you chirped, taking the candle from Anakin to free up his hands for the task. “I’ll go look for more candles and matches.”

The kitchen was just as tiny, standing room only and no dining table. It consisted of a slab of wood for a counter, an empty ice box that was cracked down the middle, and some drawers which were also mostly empty.

One of the cupboard up top held a few random supplies, mostly rubber bands and bottle caps and dead batteries. But amid that was a bag of little tea candles, a few larger ones made of a slippery wax, and a box of matches. Half were no good, but you only needed to light one and then share the flame with all the others.

You planted the tea candles around on various surfaces, lighting the space up as Anakin broke down the table. You threw some old papers you’d found bunched in a drawer into the fireplace for more starter fuel, scratching another match to life against the grated box once Anakin dropped a leg of the table into the fire. You tossed the match in after it, satisfied when the flame caught the edge of the papers and flared to life, enveloping the wooden leg.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed, holding your hands out to warm by the flame.

“Mmhm,” he agreed, crouched beside you. He stared, mesmerized by the flames for a long moment before suddenly standing. “Alright, I’m gonna go look at the pipes. Will you be okay for now?”

“Yup,” you nodded cheerily. “Where are the pipes?”

“There’s a cellar out back. Should be down there.”

“Oh…” this time, your shiver wasn’t from the cold. “Want me to go with you? Sounds kinda creepy.”

Anakin huffed a laugh, running a hand down the back of your head affectionately. “No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you. Want you to stay here and warm up.”

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Perfect,” he brought you toward him with that hand, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Now alone, you fed the fire with some more wood from the table, crouching down before the bags to get out your and Anakin’s spare set of clothes. You hung them up on the sill of the fireplace, weighing them down with the candles so they could dry.

There were a couple of large buckets beside the fireplace, probably meant for gathering wood. You took one and set it outside to collect rainwater. It didn’t take very long at all – it filled up from the downpour within minutes, and you hung it up on the metal rod above the fire to boil for drinking water.

Then you grabbed one of the thicker candles to light your way to the back of the shed. The floorboards lifted slightly back here, half of a wall hiding the bedroom from the rest of the interior.

The bed was quite large for such a small space, half-made with a quilted cover. It looked all dusty and gross, so you tore it off and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the space, praying for some spare sheets.

Luck seemed to be on your side. There was a set of sheets, blankets, and even a couple of pillows stowed away atop the first shelf in the closet. You had to strain on your tiptoes to reach them, but eventually knocked them down to your height. You took them to the living room and shook them out, making sure no dust or any bugs hid inside, then brought them back to the room and made the bed.

It was a lot more than you were hoping for, for an abandoned shed in the depths of the forest.

With the bed all made and Anakin not back yet, you decided to use the old dirty blanket to wipe down the interior of the bathroom. There was a shower – if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was just a spigot attached to the wall with a drain beneath, the floor here made of smooth rock rather than wood. But if Anakin could get it to work, and you warmed up some more water over the fire, you could have a real, warm shower using the soap you’d brought from the ship.

The sound of the door opening let in the roar of the rain once more. Anakin closed it behind him, shaking water out of his hair.. “Good news,” he called, voice carrying from the door to the bedroom in the small shed. “There’s a water heater down there that I got working, as well as the pipes. I just have to fill the tank and we’re good to go.”

“Ohh,” you cooed excitedly, rounding the corner to meet him again. “I found a bucket we could use– hold on.” You grabbed the spare bucket from the fireplace and handed it to him. “The bed’s all set, I found some clean sheets and cleaned up the bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the kitchen or anywhere else,” you shrugged. “But I think this will do pretty well for the night.”

“I think so, too,” Anakin said, and despite the howling wind and icy rain pounding into the roof and threatening to shatter the windows, he smiled.

He left to go fill the tank, and you laid out the rest of the supplies before the fire. The bigger bag was for Obi-Wan– those things you didn’t touch. But you and Anakin had a couple extra blankets, some food, a blaster, maps, and your medical supplies. Most of it survived the rain.

By the time Anakin came back, you were still sitting before the fire, occasionally feeding it with more scraps of wood and poking it around with a longer piece. He kicked the mud and dirt off his boots at the door before coming in, shrugging off his poncho.

“Alright, bad news…” he started this time. You turned to look at him. “The heater is the slowest thing I’ve ever come across. It’ll take hours. I don’t think showers are in the cards for us tonight.”

You twisted your lips, trying not to seem too disappointed. “Bummer.”

All you wanted to do was get out of these sticky, soaking wet clothes and immerse yourself in a warm shower. But at least he tried, and it really wasn’t the end of the world.

“Maybe in the morning,” you reasoned, trying to stay positive. He joined you by the fire as you tugged on the clothes you’d hung up, seeing if they were ready. “At least these are dry, and warm now. That’s better than nothing.”

“It is. Smart girl,” he tilted your face toward his with a finger, crouched before you again. His lips met yours – wet meeting dry, cold meeting warm. It took you by surprise a little bit, the intensity he kissed you with out of nowhere. But you responded in earnest, as if the simple touch of your flesh could warm him from the torrents coming down outside.

After a long moment, he pulled back an inch, mumbling against your mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah?”

You nodded silently, standing once he gave you room to take the clothes down from the fire.

You’d been on missions with Anakin before, just the two of you. But nothing like this – so raw, so intimate, so secluded from the rest of the world. You could feel a strange tension in the air between you two, not bad. Just… different. Like there was an energy pulsing alive, waiting for something to snap.

You’d been with Anakin for a few months now, and in love with each other for far longer. But… you’d never truly been with him yet. In any way.

He knew you weren’t ready, and explained you could take it slow. As slow as you wanted. He, of course, was already experienced, and that intimidated you. Which is why it had been months, and you still hadn’t made a move to progress things. Just the thought of doing those things with him made you impossibly nervous.

But lately, like now, you were thinking about it more and more. You couldn’t do this with anyone else, you thought. Just Anakin. You loved him more than life itself, and your ability to express that with words or innocent touches was growing limited.

You wanted more of him. And you wanted him to have more of you.

What are you thinking? You shook the thoughts out of your head as you took your clothes into the bathroom to change. These thoughts had nothing to do with the predicament you found yourselves in. The last thing he was thinking about was sex.

In fact, upon exiting the bathroom, you found him already changed into his dried pair of pants and nothing else, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you with a tired, slumped look in his eyes.

He’d given you his spare shirt to wear since it was bigger and warmer than yours, and he wasn’t going to wear it anyways. You also had on a pair of shorts, the comfy ones you brought for sleeping since you thought you’d be in an inn right now.

You approached him slowly, shadows cast over his face from the candlelight, flickering off the walls. The air was a bit chillier back here, away from the fire that you’d let simmer to embers for now. Naturally, you gravitated toward his shirtless form, slotting yourself in the space he’d opened up for you between his knees, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What an odd change of plans,” you muttered into his hair softly.

His flesh hand found your back, holding you close as he nestled his head against your chest. “Agreed.”

You remained like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and rain-damp hair, listening to the constant thrum of the downpour above, the gusting wind in the trees.

“You tired?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You liked how it looked dark and burnished in the candlelight, holding the shape of a ringlet curl as you wrapped and uncoiled it from around your finger.

“Very,” he breathed, turning his face into your neck to leave a kiss on your collarbone. “C’mere.”

Both of his wrapped around your back, securely holding you to him as he fell backward onto the bed, with you on top of him. You laughed, steadying yourself with your arms on either side of his head, ducking down to plant a sweet kiss above his brows.

“You’re not even on the bed,” you pointed out, referring to his legs which were still on the floor. You pulled back the covers, and you both slipped under, instantly finding the spot between his chest and shoulder to lay your head. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you snuggly into his side, allowing you to slot one of your legs between his.

This is how it always was when you and him could truly be alone, uninterrupted, with no threat of someone finding you out. It was a rare moment, which is why your skin sang with every inch it pressed against his, heart soaring in your chest as your body seemed to settle so perfectly against his, erasing any doubt in your mind that any of this could be a mistake.

Before long, and without even realizing, you slipped into a deep sleep. Despite the harsh weather outside, you’d never felt so comfortable, wrapped up in warmth and darkness. That is, until Anakin woke with a start, wrenching you out of your slumber.

“What issit?” you slurred, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t like when he’d have nightmares, where you’d usually wake up before him due to his tossing and turning and mumbling. This was sudden – like something had possessed him, stolen all the air from his lungs as wide eyes turned to you.

“The transmitter,” he said, throwing the blankets off of him and getting out of bed. Your head was still lagging behind, having no idea what he meant.

“What transmitter?”

“The one on the ship. The only way we can contact Obi-Wan. We left it behind.”

He was already pulling on his boots and reaching for his other shirt, sparing no time. You pushed yourself further up in bed, swiping your hair out of your face. “D’you have to get it now? Can it wait till the morning?”

“The ship was sinking when we left it. It could be buried in mud right now,” he rushed the words out, grabbing his utility belt from the sill and securing it around his waist. “I’ll be back in an hour. Go back to bed… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” you were already swinging your legs off the bed too, about to stand up when Anakin put a hand on your shoulder. It was dark now, the candles having been blown out without you realizing, and you could barely see his face.

“No. Stay here. I don’t want you out there, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s just some rain,” your argument sounded meek, even to you. “Come on, Anakin, I don’t want you to go alone. ‘S not fair.”

“Fair?”

“You shouldn’t have to be out there while I stay here and sleep. I won’t be able to, anyway. It is dangerous, so I should come with you, in case something happens.”

“Y/n. No,” he said sternly, and you flinched. A heavy pause hung between you, where you searched for what to say among the scattered thoughts in your brain. He’d never been stern with you before. Ever.

“I won’t be gone long. I promise I’ll be there and back as fast as I can. Okay?”

“But,” you insisted stubbornly, desperately fighting back the sting in your eyes. “I want to go with you, Anakin. I want to help you.”

You tried to stand up again, but the hold he had on your shoulders wouldn’t let you. You tried to fight back the emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill over your eyes at his defiance. He was too strong, his word absolute– and for once, you couldn’t sway him.

The thought of him out there, alone in the dark and cold and rain… it killed you.

You grasped at his wrists, still holding onto your shoulders, and squeezed as if you could keep him there. As if he wasn’t laughably stronger than you, and could pull away from your touch without realizing you were trying.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? This isn’t like you,” his words came out hushed now. Worried.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sniffed, lip beginning to wobble. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s scary out there.

“I won’t. I promise… I’ll be okay. You’ll see,” he kissed the stray tear that squeezed out of your eye, collecting it with his lips before it could trail a path down your cheek. You tried to steady your breathing, shaky as it dragged in and out of your lungs, quelling the rising feeling of dread and fear.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you back into bed, on your back, tucking the sheets in around you nice and tight. Tight enough so that you couldn’t get out, perhaps. Whimpering in defeat, you felt another few tears squeeze out of your eyes, turning your head away from him to bury into the pillow.

“Don’t do this,” Anakin murmured, stroking a hand over your hair. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Fine,” you snipped, immediately regretting it. “‘M sorry… just don’t get hurt. Come back.”

“I will,” he whispered, and trailed warm kisses down your temple.

And then he was gone.

His voice, his touch, his scent, his warmth – all of it, vanished like it had never been there to begin with.

It’s not the fact that he’d left to go do something dangerous on his own – it was the fact that he was out there all alone, in a terrible storm, fighting through the unpredictability of the elements. It had been violent for the short time you’d been out there earlier, the rain pelting your skin so hard it stung, the mud sticking to your boots, refusing to let you move, the wind nearly toppling you over if Anakin hadn’t been there to steady you.

You could have gone with him. You could have kept up. And Maker forbid anything happen to him – if he got stuck, trapped somewhere, if a tree came down over him, if he got lost and couldn’t find his way–

You couldn’t stay in bed. Half of you wanted to pull your boots on too and meet him out there, but you knew that was a stupid decision. You didn’t have his sense of direction, the built in radar that he had. And even as you peered through the cloudy window to the outside world, you knew it would be in vain. The night forest was alive with shuttering tree limbs, branches fighting each other in the sky as the terrible wind tossed them around. The rain never let up, the same suffocating sheet of water dumping from the moonless sky above.

Anakin was far gone at this point. You could only sit by the window, alone in the cold, dusty dark, until he returned.

The sleeves of your – Anakin’s – shirt had grown damp by the time you spotted his figure appear out of the trees.

It startled you at first, worried some stranger had come across the shed in the same way you and Anakin had, and was now heading this way to seek shelter. Once he arrived, he might find you here, and maybe he’d try to hurt you.

You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and grabbed for the water-logged blaster you’d set on the floor, shaking out some raindrops and hoping it wasn’t one of the things that got destroyed by the rain.

Your worry was for naught - the closer the figure grew, the more you recognized the height, shape, and gait of Anakin Skywalker. The hood of his poncho was pulled up over his head, but it did little good as the wind tugged and pulled at it, letting the rain drench his face anyway.

You set the blaster down and met him by the door, pulling it open to reveal him soaked to the bone and panting. He truly had run the whole way.

“Anakin,” you started, trying to stay out of his way so he could take off his poncho and boots without spraying you with water. “Are you okay? Did you get the transmitter?”

“I made it just in time,” he explained, reaching into his belt pocket and brandishing the little metal device. Such a small thing, important enough to risk his life over.

At least, to him it was.

“You must be freezing,” you muttered, still upset at the fact that you hadn’t shared in his suffering. You hated seeing him go through these things alone. You should have been with him.

“The heaters have probably had enough time to warm the water up,” his attempt to distract you didn’t go unnoticed. “You wanna go check for me?”

You whispered, “okay,” and flit back to the bedroom, lighting a couple of candles inside so you could see. The spigot was stuck in place due to years of sitting unused and abandoned, but eventually you managed to wrench it to the side, almost splattering yourself with brown water.

Your face crinkled in disgust, but soon it began to run clear. You tested the temperature with your fingertips, pleased to feel that it was warm.

Anakin rounded the corner, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s warm,” you pulled your hand away and wiped it dry on your shorts. “You should get in quick so it’s not wasted.”

“Wanna join me?”

His offer caught you by surprise.

Join him? In the shower? As in… naked?

The look on your face must have given your thoughts away. He chuckled and reached toward one of the tea lights you’d just lit, snuffing the flame out between two gloved fingers. “I can turn off the lights…” he teased.

Damn him. As if you weren’t already flustered –

The steady trickle of the spigot remained at your back, seducing you to the warmth of the shower. It would feel so good to be able to wash up. And with there only really being enough time for one shower… it would make sense for the both of you to just do it together.

But Anakin had never seen you without clothes before. And you hadn’t prepared for that to happen today.

“Yes… no…?” he drawled, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the other candle. Like the first, he pinched the flame out, blanketing the room in darkness. The sound of the floorboards creaking was the only way you knew he was approaching, tensing as you felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll behave.”

You were still upset with him being stern with you earlier. And even more upset that he didn’t let you go with him.

But something about his honey-smooth voice reduced you to putty in his hands. Warmth budded and bloomed deep in your stomach, and a certain resolve passed over you. You didn’t want to be upset anymore. You wanted this.

“Okay,” you whispered, fingers finding Anakin’s at the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t miss his slight inhale.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you tugged the hem up yourself, urging him to guide the material over your head.

The darkness of the room was the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort, knowing he couldn’t truly see you just yet. You knew, logically, that he could fathom things in his mind without having to see them, but purposely ignored that fact.

You weren’t sure where your shirt landed, as he’d been the one to tug your arms out himself. Riding the adrenaline high, you slipped your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and pushed them down, kicking them somewhere in the corner.

And there you were, standing completely naked in front of Anakin Skywalker – your love, your life – for the first time ever.

Again, the only reason you could really do this right now was because it was pitch black in the room. You only had enough nerve to then reach for him, hand finding the soaking wet material of his own shirt as you shivered in the cold.

“Hurry up and get undressed, I wanna get in,” you pleaded. He’d gone eerily silent.

At your request, he started into motion. You could hear the sounds of his wet clothes slopping to the ground heavily, trying to fight the blush off of your face as you turned around to pull the spigot further. The water began to rain down in a warm current now, and you stepped underneath to douse yourself in the glorious heat.

“Where are yo–? oh,” you jumped as you felt his hands find their way around your waist, his naked chest pressed up against your back. The water sprayed over the both of you, trickling down his body to fall onto yours, shivering at the added heat.

The blood in your face grew warmer, trying not to think about how close his hands were to two very sensitive parts of your body. They spanned almost the whole length of your torso, tummy twisting as you realized just how big he was. Just how strong.

But he chose to be gentle with you.

Trying to steady your breathing, you reached for the soap you’d stowed away in the notch in the wall, flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Anakin trailed his fingers down your arm, taking the bottle from you and setting it down again.

You rubbed the soap between your hands, letting the excess drip down your body so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then, you began rubbing the suds all into your skin, feeling impossibly feverish at the predicament.

It just felt… wrong, somehow, to be touching yourself like this in front of Anakin. Even if you were just washing up.

His hands had returned to your waist, and you smoothed them over his own as you worked your way down your body. Wordlessly, he turned his hands over, capturing your soapy fingers in his and stealing some of the suds. You huffed a laugh, heart fluttering in your chest as he began to work that soap into the soft skin of your stomach, hips, and waist.

You tried not to squirm too much. Forced yourself to relax, and just let him do what he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, the way he lingered, rubbing circles into your soft skin, kissing at your shoulder blade as he brought his hands around and up your back, almost massaging the soap into you.

The way his hands moved over your body was so different than anything you’ve ever felt before. You’d never been touched so tenderly, so unrestricted yet loving as you’d been now. And though he had free reign, he avoided the parts that might make you uncomfortable… until you grew bold enough to capture his wandering hands in your own, leading them to the soft mounds of flesh yourself.

On instinct he squeezed, ever so gently, with your smaller fingers bracketing his own. “You can touch me,” you whispered, encouraging now that you were fully relaxed and comfortable with him.

“You’re perfect,” he replied, lips finding the curve of your neck.

What had he said about behaving?

As if he could read your thoughts, his lips released the skin of your neck with a small sound, pressing a kiss above that spot, and then one more under your jaw. Then he began to move his hands over your breasts, not quite sexual, but gentle. Caring. Washing you of rainwater and chill, so all that was left was the sweet smelling soap and the feel of him.

You sighed in relief, bones turning to mush in his hands. Soon, he reached for the soap again and squeezed more out, stepping around so that he was in front of you.

His hands found you again, your waist this time, the unpredictability of his touches making your heart hammer against your ribs. Something about it was so thrilling, not being able to see where he was or where he was planning to go, especially now that you’d given him permission to touch you. You weren’t sure where you’d draw the line if it came to that. If you’d draw the line.

His touch remained wholly innocent, though, focusing back around on your stomach, dragging down the curve of your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs. You could feel his breath on your tummy, butterflies flaring to life as you realized he was on his knees before you, dragging his touch up and down your thighs as his lips pressed a sensual kiss to the top of your tummy. Then above your belly button. Then one below–

You held your breath, anticipating him to keep going. But he lingered on the last kiss, and you could feel his teeth on your skin as he smiled.

“On my best behavior, remember?” his voice was deep, almost a purr.

You could only manage a meek “Mmhm,” as he continued on, tracing his fingers down to your knee, lifting one leg slightly so he could trail kisses down your thigh, over your knee, down, down down, all the while rubbing soap into your skin in his lip’s wake.

By the time he reached your foot, you were bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying not to jump out of your skin as his lips continued. He kissed your ankle, the top of your foot, massaging soap into the soles of your feet.

He wasn’t just washing you. He was worshiping you.

That much was clear as he released that leg and started over on the other side.

You were almost relieved when he was done. Every inch of your skin was alive and buzzing, standing on edge with electricity and embarrassment and something else. Something deep, and smooth, and warm like bubbling molasses. You could barely breathe, glad for the moment of reprieve when he finally released you, and deposited more soap in his hands so he could wash himself.

Your legs were jelly, afraid you’d fall down right there in the shower, completely baffled how he could just do something like that and continue on like nothing happened. Then, you heard the speed at which he was rubbing the soap over his own body – clearly, he wanted to get out to continue this elsewhere.

You weren’t terribly ashamed to admit you were thinking along the same line.

Before the water could run cold, Anakin had urged you both under the spigot again and rinsed all the suds off your body. Then he grabbed for the single towel that you’d brought from the supply bag, turning the water off and wrapping you up in it.

“Hey– what’re you doing?” you pouted, undoing the towel just as soon as he’d tucked it into you, secure.

“Getting you dry,” he responded like it was obvious. You rubbed the towel over your skin quickly, then wrapped Anakin in it like he’d done to you. Or– you tried to, at least. You still couldn’t see, and completely missed your mark, caught off guard by the absence of the body you confidently reached for that you almost slipped, bracing yourself on the first thing you could reach.

“Woah,” Anakin chuckled, easily steadying you with his hands around your waist. Your bare chest was pressed against his, glaringly obvious with the way the cold air tightened your skin, and you blushed furiously.

“Sorry– couldn’t find you,” you mumbled, hopelessly patting at his chest with the towel now that you had him.

“Alright, let’s get you dressed and out of here before you take us both down,” he teased, bending to retrieve the clothes you’d both discarded in the dark.

You let him pull his shirt over your head first, shielding you from the nippy air. You were disappointed with the loss of contact, but glad for the sense of normalcy. He knelt before you again and urged you to lift your leg with his hand around your calf, guiding one leg, then the other into your shorts, pulling them up until they rested comfortably on your hips.

He pulled his own pants on, the only thing he’d be wearing, and you finally reached for the bathroom door, ready to be able to see again even if it was only by candlelight.

It was like re-entering life, after being in the dark for so long. You turned to see if Anakin was following you, finding him close behind as he shut the door behind him, and just the sight of his ridiculously handsome face, gilded by the glow of the fire, set your heart aflame.

You needed his lips on yours. Now.

This time, he was taken by surprise with the intensity of your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, barely noticing as he fell back into the door slightly, hand finding your hip to steady you. His surprise quickly melted into an intensity that matched your own, hot lips sliding over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste, palm guiding your jaw just how he liked.

He kissed like he was drinking you in, breathing your air, as if he wished to share the same skin as you. And though you’d started it, now you were trying to keep up, head growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen as he began to guide you backward, onto the bed.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, the reality of the situation dawned on you. He wasn’t slowing down, and you didn’t want him to. His touch dragged fire across your flesh, tracing down the places he’d just worshiped under your clothes, pulling you so close to him you could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Your hands buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder for stability, grounding as he released your lips with a gasp, wasting no time before claiming the sensitive skin of your neck with the same furiosity.

“Anakin,” you breathed, not really sure what you wanted to say. You just wanted to taste his name in your mouth, the way the syllables sounded so pretty, so perfect between your teeth.

He answered with a short “mmm,” listening but not really. He was too deep into it, kissing and sucking and nipping at your neck, tongue laving over the small hurts that his teeth dug into you.

Somehow his flesh hand had drifted to the elastic of your shorts. You’d missed it before, too caught up in him toying with the skin over your pulsepoint. But now his fingers teased the elastic that he’d just put on you, and despite your livewire nerves and the pound of your heart, you lifted your hips in invitation.

His mouth detached from your neck, shocked again as he breathed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you forbid him from asking again by pulling him back to your lips. You needed the distraction, bracketing his jaw in both your hands as he pulled your shorts down your legs, slowly. Giving you time to back out.

You kicked them off once he reached your feet, flinging them out of sight. Anakin settled back between your thighs, your knees squeezing his waist, squirming as his touch now roamed free under your shirt.

“Anakin,” you pulled away to breathe once again, lips swollen and wet, filled with the taste of him. “I– I don’t know what to do.”

His eyelashes shuttered, delicate as a butterfly wing, and he leaned back in to peck you gently on the lips. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he murmured, eyes all melted and soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

There it was again. That blind trust.

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d let him. Half dressed, strewn over the bed, all for his taking… and he moved down your body to recount the kisses he’d pressed to your stomach in the shower only moments before.

Your muscles clenched and unclenched, hips squirming as you felt an uncomfortable warmth, a wetness, an ache between your legs the further down he moved. You were no stranger to that feeling, or how to relieve it– but you were new to sharing it with someone else. Sharing it with him.

Though it made you incredibly nervous to have him down there, the need for his touch outweighed everything. He kissed your stomach, hips, and thighs until he felt you relax under his palms, and only then did he slide his hands beneath your knees, pausing one last time to ask:

“Will you let me taste you?”

It felt like something exploded in your face, with the intensity that heat bloomed in your cheeks. Those bejeweled eyes shining in the candlelight, intent on you, hands clutching the plush softness of the backs of your thighs, breath ghosting over the bottom of your stomach– it was almost too much.

“Okay,” you answered quietly, nodding your head. “Y-yes.”

His responding grin was wicked – roguish. Broad hands pushed your legs up and spread them apart, baring it all for him to see.

It was quick– so quick you barely had time to be embarrassed, like ripping a bandaid off. He just… did it. And now he was looking at you, holding your thighs so steady in his strong grasp that you couldn’t even dream of closing them on him.

You threw a hand over your eyes, unable to watch him look at you.

“Baby,” he breathed, flesh hand releasing one of your legs so he could slot it between your thighs, thumb pulling you open a little. You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed as he studied you, only opening your eyes to look at him when he tugged at your wrist in silent demand.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” he teased, though when you blinked open your wet eyes to look at him, his face had melted into one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before pressing his lips to the swollen bud of your clit, taking you by surprise again. “The prettiest there ever was,” he smirked when he saw your reaction, pulling you open with both thumbs now so he could press a hot, deep, lingering kiss into you.

You gasped at the contact, blood rushing in your ears as your back bowed off the bed. Sparks of pleasure battled the humiliation as he continued planting sweet little suckling kisses to your clit, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Once you’d relaxed back onto the bed, and the first pathetic whimper left your mouth, he let his tongue roam your folds, collecting your taste.

He knew this was new for you, so he went slow. Started gentle, getting you used to the feeling. And it was strange for you, just a little bit, but mostly it felt… good. So good. Indescribably good. So much so that you couldn’t believe you’d held out on this for so long.

Couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you now.

Your hips twitched and jumped as his tongue traced down to your entrance, teasingly licking you in circles, using pressure like he might try to put it in. The thought had you reaching for the bedsheets, needing something to squeeze in your fists. One of his hands intercepted yours, bringing it back to your thigh so he could hold you still and let you squeeze his hand at the same time.

He licked your arousal up, truly drinking you now, allowing his tongue to lave over your clit all slow and smooth and warm. You mewled, a sweet, innocent sound that went straight to his cock. With a desire to pull more pretty sounds from you, he kept drawing circles over your clit, increasing the pressure and speed until your eyes were closed, and you were biting your finger between your teeth, unable to help the sounds escaping you.

“Fuck, Ani–” gasped, thighs falling open by themselves now, inviting him deeper. He licked you again, closing his lips at the top of your heat to suck your clit into his mouth, pulling it between his lips with a pulsing suction.

He didn’t let up.

Your muscles tensed, the fuzzy warmth building in your gut, between your legs, spreading down your thighs, becoming all consuming. And just when you thought it would burst, he let go.

“Shit,” you cried, breathless as your hips rocked against his mouth. He laughed, sticking his tongue out so you could hump the met muscle, hot breath fanning over your most sensitive parts. His teeth gleamed in the firelight, dark eyes trained on you, and you had to shut your own so you didn’t cum right there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulled his face away, pinching the inside of your thigh just enough to sting. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze again. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

His mouth, shining with your slick, lowered to your pussy again. And you couldn’t stop from moaning, hips canting up and down even though you knew it made his job more difficult. You just couldn’t help it– it felt too good.

And he knew that, so he was nice. It was your first time, after all. So he relaxed the hold he had on your hips and let you squirm, just a little, to delude you into thinking you had even an ounce of control.

“You gonna cum in my mouth, sweet thing?” he spoke against your cunt, sealing the words off with a loud, wet, kiss. “Gonna make a mess for me?”

You’d never appreciated the velvety timber of his voice more than right now.

“Mhm,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezing closed. And again, he let you. There would be other times to play his wicked games.

“Alright, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready,” he soothed, returning his mouth to your clit. He licked and sucked, sliding his tongue back down to your hole and breaching the entrance like he’d fantasized about doing with his cock for so long now, carving the exact path he would take. You gasped for air, humming it out in cute helpless whines and whimpers, cheeks permanently stained in a flush.

“Anakin, I–” you wanted to say you loved him, no matter how pathetic that sounded. But it was true, it was all you could feel as his lips suctioned around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue in torturous circles. You loved him, loved his mind and his body, and the way his lips and tongue were pulling that glorious wave of heat from out of you now, swallowing the gush of hot slick that escaped from your pulsing hole.

He brought you down with his thumb on your clit, soothing gentle circles into it as you cried, body shaking and jerking beneath him. He watched you come undone with a small smile on his face, not allowing you to escape his attention for even a moment.

The last gulp of air that you took to settle your shivering muscles felt like the sweetest breath you’d ever taken. Anakin climbed back up your body, hands sliding over your knees, so he could kiss you deep on the lips.

You tasted yourself – it wasn’t bad… slightly salty, but not quite. That mixed with the taste of Anakin had your brain turn to mush again, lips lazy and compliant under his.

“See how good you taste?” he hummed, going back in to flirt his tongue around yours. “Fucking delicious.”

“Anakin–” you were pushing at his chest now, the buffer of arousal no longer shielding you from so much embarrassment. He laughed as you covered your face with your hands, immediately trying to tug them away again.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted with that lover’s pur, and you pouted once he finally succeeded in seeing your face again. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, still smiling. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, unable to fight back your own matching smile. “‘T was so good, Ani. Didn’t think… didn’t think it’d be like that.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head, leaning into his warm palm as he cupped your cheek, thumb still stroking your bottom lip. “Thank you. Do you– do you want me to…”

It took him a second before he realized what you were talking about. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down, then laughed. “No– no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, mirth and adoration oozing from his gaze. “But I can handle it tonight. Think that was enough for you.”

You pouted again, about to insist, but he kept you quiet with a kiss. “Another time, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, complaisant.

“Good.” With a deep breath of his own, he lifted himself off of you, carefully closing your legs so they wouldn’t ache from being held open for so long. “Wait here,” he requested, and then left for the bathroom again.

He grabbed the towel you both had used, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you open up for me?” he asked, fingers sliding around your thigh in silent request.

Your face burned even harder than before, somehow, as you fulfilled his request, spreading your legs a bit so he could clean you up. It was a strange feeling, almost more intimate than what he’d previously been doing– but it was quick, and it felt nice now that your arousal was all cleaned up, and he could slip your shorts back on with you having to get up.

Anakin retreated back to the bathroom and was gone for a few long moments. You had an idea of what he was doing, another burst of heat blooming in your stomach at the thought of what was going on behind that door. You had half a mind to suggest helping him again. You were more than willing.

But he came out only a short time later to find that you’d straightened all the sheets, and were now waiting by the pillows for him to come back to bed with you. He blew out the candles as he passed them by, getting into the bed and wasting no time pulling you onto his chest.

He’d never felt closer to you. And you, him.

In the morning, you’d probably be embarrassed again, recalling what you’d done. The storm outside seemed to trap you in a bubble, your own world, and everything else seemed so far away now.

You pressed your palm to his chest, letting the strong thud, thud, thud of his heart lull you to sleep. Before he could feel you drift off, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, and you heard it in your dreams.

divider from @saradika

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