#th. uninvited guest

[captain-joongz]

Space for two

Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader

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

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

Word count: 25.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then several things happened all almost at once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Close your eyes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wanted. I longed. I needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he just got up and walked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I would be okay. We would be okay.

hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3

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

[yellowjestertfs]

Altered State: Part Three

Part One and Part Two are available here. Story will likely have three more similarly length parts after this one so be on the look out for Part four in the next few days. As always love getting feedback on this story if you are enjoying it!

The party went silent as all eyes turned to Edward, thanks to his new Social Gravity perk. His various bonuses and high charisma helped ensure that the stares he received were not outright hostile but even the power of those couldn’t negate the fact that Edward was 20 years younger than the other guests, carrying two large shopping bags, and very much uninvited to this functions. 

The old Edward might have been paralyzed with fear in this situation. He might have stammered off an apology and walked out the door. The new Edward wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “Bonjour friends,” he said in an overly flamboyant French accent “It is I, Henri Barbier, famed art critic and I have come to whatever American city this is to view this masterful work.” Edward gestured to the black and white paintings on the wall.

“I’m afraid I have never heard of you,” a white-haired woman with thin half moon glasses on the tip of her nose said stepping forward, a hint of scorn in her voice.

“Don’t be rude Scintillation, this is Henri Barbier. I think I saw a profile of him last week in the digest.” A slightly younger man said stepping forward to join her and placing his hand on Scintillation’s shoulder. Edward was almost positive there was no real art critic named Henri Barbier. He wondered then if his charisma was high enough to convince this man there was or if the guy was just a sycophant always wanting to appear in the know. Murmurs filled the room of other guests saying they knew of the critic. 

“I’m sorry how rude of me. It is a pleasure to welcome you to our gallery Mr. Barbier. My name is Scintillation, I am the curator of the gallery. This art you see here is done by my husband, River” She placed a hand tenderly on the back of the man from before and the two stared lovingly at each other, though Edward’s Sage perk hinted to him that the couple was not as happy as they appeared. He filed that information away for later. 

Scintillation led Edward around to the various art pieces, elucidating on each thoroughly. The other guests went back to their individual conversations though Edward could still feel their eyes still on him. The break gave Edward a chance to examine the new details of the quest. At first, the system had seemed complicated but actually wasn’t all that different from other quest systems he had played before in sandbox simulation games. Completing quests to “liven up” the party filled a central progress bar. There were three segments on the bar, each of which would grant him a reward if he reached it before time ran out. The first two just granted a level but the third gave a level and an exclusive technique. The quest ranged from simple tasks like taking a group photo or exchanging a secret with a fellow guest to the more complex and outlandish like doing a keg stand or playing strip poker. The more the task livened up the party the more progress it lent.

Edward wanted that bonus reward, though he had little idea how he was going to manage it. He could already tell this Scintillation woman was going to be a damper on any attempts to change the vibe. She seemed far too uptight and far too in control, plus Edward could tell she didn’t quite buy his overseas art critic act. 

“This work, I think I know what it is about.” Edward declared doing his best to maintain his foe French accent, which was actually quite easy with his high charisma and social sync perk. 

“Well actually River likes his pieces to fluctuate in their-“

“No,” Edward said cutting Scintillation off. “These are about sex. They are about a man who feels like his penis has been cut off. Like he is a eunuch or a little boy.”

Scintillation looked extremely scandalized by the comment. “Mr. Barbier, I don’t think that is appropriate, nor might I add is it true. River and I, well we” she stumbled over her words obviously uncomfortable with the subject “Well it doesn't matter, I think you are mistaken.”

Edward pretended to think for a moment, gazing up at the art, which to him did somewhat resemble a black and white penis or maybe more a tennis racket. “No, no I am quite sure. Look here at the brush stroke, see how it curves, see how it doubles back. I have seen it before, that is the work of a man who is, how do you say, not getting his dick wet. A man whose dick is dry as the desert sand.

Scintillation looked thoughtfully up at the vague area Edward had gestured to. Edward was amazed at how easy this was proving, with his charisma and looks people really would believe anything he said, plus Edward suspected he had inadvertently hit a vein of truth and decided to commit further. “Scintillation I know you Americans are like dead fish when it comes to the art of lovemaking but there is a simple solution.”

“There is?” Scintillation asked, still looking up at the work.

“There is. You must show that man that you love him. That you want to rip off his clothes and then his penis.”

“Well I suppose I could make more of an effort in the bedroom,” she said slowly. 

“The bedroom, no, no! That is so clinical, so predictable. Sex is about surprise, it is about risk. It is much like art in that way. It must be raw, and passionate. Take that man right here, right now.” Edward didn't know the first thing about love or sex but Scintillation seemed to buy that he did, hanging on his every word. Still she resisted his suggestion. 

“I can’t do that right now, I’m hosting an event! Plus that would be highly inappropriate” Scintillation said voice in a whisper, although she still stared up at River’s work before them. 

“The very fate of your marriage depends on this! Love calls for desperate measures.”

Scintillation took a deep breath. Instead of kicking Edward out of the party as he feared she marched over to River who was talking to a group of older women. She whispered something in his ear and started heading towards the bathroom. River’s eyes went wide and a sort of drunk expression came over his face as he followed his wife like an eager puppy. 

Two of the tasks, one “give relationship advice” and the other “convince two people to get nasty at the party” checked off the long quest list. The first didn’t give much progress but the second did, filling the bar just above one-third and greeting him with a now familiar welcome. “Ding”

“You have reached level eight. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Effortless Grace: your charisma is embodied. You now move with the undeniable swagger of your social competence.” 

Edward felt the now familiar signs of an increased charisma. His jaw grew sharper, his cute dimples became deeper, his skin gained an even more healthy glow and his hair grew another shade more golden and shiny. The bulge in his pants pushed out further as his penis grew longer and a bit wider. 

Edward’s 14 intelligence allowed him to piece together the somewhat cryptic description of his latest perk, and besides he could feel it. It was as if he had grown from a toddler to a man in seconds. His movements once clumsy and forced were now light and purposeful, befitting his ever-growing charisma. He felt like he could walk a tightrope or do the tango without any difficulties, and look sexy the whole time. 

With a new swagger, Edward flitted from group to group. He chatted with nearly everyone, instantly dominating whatever conversation he was in and trying his best to maintain his faux French accent. Edward did his best to liven up all the conversations he could. He got one group talking about their party days in college, another group to all do impressions of each other, and a third to tell each other secrets all of which were pretty mundane. 

As he watched the progress bar stubbornly refuse to move more than a few percent and the countdown clock tick down Edward realized this approach wasn’t working.  

Edward swaggered up to the musicians located towards the back of the gallery. Three board looking male musicians with a piano, simple drum set, and stand-up base played quiet background music in a loop. The people next to them swayed slightly though mostly ignored the musician's presence. 

“How about we mix this music up? Could you play something a little more up-tempo?” Edward asked the musicians. With Scintillation gone he felt much more confident in his ability to take over the party. Sure enough, the musicians quickly changed their tune, going into a jazzy number. 

Normally Edward was an abhorrent dancer but as he moved his hips and arms in beat with the song he was amazed by how easy and well-coordinated he now was. The odd 50 guests all diverted from their conversation by the change in music watched him in wrapped attention. A few of the guests started to join in and Edward watched his progress bar slowly increase.

Edward stopped a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. “Got anything stronger” He asked. Five minutes later the waiter carried a tray of assorted shots instead. As the guests got drunker more of them ditched their conversations and joined in the impromptu dance circle. It was comical to watch the social elites of the city, many of them professors at Edward’s university,  dressed in their formal clothing, bust a move like drunk sorority girls at a frat party. Edward wondered how much of the change he could attribute to his charisma and how much was the alcohol. 

Both the drinking and the dancing increased the quest's progress quite a bit, though the party still needed a final push to reach the two-thirds mark and for him to level up again.

That final push came in the form of a conga line, led by an especially looking drunk guy with a tie tied around his forehead. Edward gladly joined in moving his legs and hips with a new effortless grace in perfect time with the music. He watched a woman behind him toss her hat into the air as he finally leveled up with another ding.

Edward disengaged himself from the dancing to read the new notifications.

“You have reached level nine. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Cupids’ Perfume: You now emit pheromones that cause others in your immediate vicinity who breathe in your scent to experience a temporary increase in horniness and also a decrease in their wisdom. Note: The potency of this effect scales with charisma. Note: This effect is less effective on those with high charisma. Note: This ability is considered an emotional manipulation effect and therefore can be resisted or negated by items, consumables, aura, technique, or abilities with the stability property. Note: You are immune to this effect. Note: This effect is 92.22% more effective on people with a penis.” 

A faint smell somehow both spicy and clean, like cinnamon and aftershave hit his nose. The smell was pleasant though Edward was quite trepidatious about the idea of becoming a walking aphrodisiac. He would have to do some testing to understand its strength and get some of those emotional stability items or consumables for the men in his life he didn't want to turn into hormonal monsters. 

A realization that had already been percolating now came fully into Edward’s mind. Back when he was ugly Edward had always assumed he would die a virgin. Then after the Golden Ratio perk earlier that day Edward had accepted he might eventually actually have sex. Now though with his latest perk Cupids Perfume perk, his “Gold Star Killer” perk along with his amazingly good looks, Edward realized he could have sex pretty much whenever and with whoever he wanted. His newly elongated dick started to engorge at the thought, though his options at this party were pretty limited when every man was his father's age or older. 

Edward looked down at his phone to see he had thousands of notifications from the social media video he had posted. He ignored those in favor of looking at a text from Leon. “Level 9 sucker. One more level till you got to kiss my ass.”

“As if. I’m 9 too. You're about to cream when you see me.” Edward texted back smiling knowing that with his new pheromones Leon really might cream when he saw him. Edward had no idea how Leon had been able to keep pace with his rapid leveling, but he would be damned if he was going to let his friend reach 10 first. That meant he needed to liven up this party further asap, not just because he wanted to beat Leon but also because there was only about an hour left on the quest timer. 

Edward supposed if the hanky-panky happening in the bathroom, and the fact that all the attendees were drunk and dancing only counted as 2/3 of a lit party then he needed to step up his game. He had just under an hour left to fix that. 

Edward supposed he could start with the last few guests who were resisting the new vibe of the party. The four men stood outside the crowd of dancing people talking to each other in hushed concerned voices. He had heard someone earlier in the night refer to them as a group of divorced bitter men, a label their attitude seemed to confirm. A plan formed in Edward’s mind to complete the quest and test out his new perk. Deftly with his new catlike grace Edward grabbed a full bottle of spirits from a passing waiter along with five shot glasses and made his way over to the party poopers. 

“Enjoying yourself,” he asked in his best impression of a drunk French accent, slurring his words slightly and leaning his elbows onto the small table the men were gathered around getting in close in hopes of spreading his pheromones to the men. Sure enough, as soon as the men took a breath of the sweet and spicy smell coming off him the effects of Edward’s new perk became evident. Three of the men began to shift uncomfortably expressions changing from disapproving to glassy-eyed-mouthed lust. Edward could feel their desire rolling off them like waves with his Sage perk. 

“Have you seen Scintillation?” the one man seemingly unaffected by his pheromones asked, knitting his bushy silver eyebrows together. “I think this party might have gotten out of hand.”

“Oh monami, that is nonsense, the part is just getting started,” Edward said licking his lips. The other men besides the man with the thick eyebrows leaned in hungrily. Edward had no idea why Eyebrows weren’t affected. He supposed that neither his Gold Star Killer perk nor his Cupids’ Perfume perk guaranteed all men would find him attractive, they simply removed the barrier of sexuality and added some hormones to the fire. Maybe Eyebrows just wasn’t into blonds or the French. Either way, Edwards had other methods of charm.

“How about we play a game,” he said, swiftly pouring liquor into the shot glasses with the effortless ease of a lifelong bartender. 

“Strip poker,” one of the guys asked him eagerly.

Edward chuckled and the sound was sexy even to his own ears. His charisma really was getting out of hand. “That's not quite what I had in mind. How about I guess what you want? If I’m wrong I have to drink, but if I’m right you drink.”

Eyebrows chuckled nervously, while the other men nodded vigorously, staring enraptured up at him. Edward leaned forward and like a cat rested his hand on one of the man’s forearms. His Sage perk activated and a sudden vision hit him. “You,” he said purring his words “want to suck my dick.” 

He moved on to the next man, cupping the man's chin in his hand. “You want to tie me up. You naughty, naughty boy.” He had all but dropped the French accent and his voice now came out smooth, seductive and low, sounding wholly recognizable to Edward’s ears. 

“And you,” he said, rubbing his foot against the man under the table. “You want to pound me till I see double.” Eyebrow’s expression went from troubled to horrified, while the other men looked like they might actually do the things Edward had just said. Edward hand’t actually mean to be so forward with these men but his pheromones made them like putty in his hands and the power was intoxicating. Plus all his transformations that day had made him unspeakably horny.

“I think I’m going to leave,” Eyebrows said getting up from the table. 

“Not so fast,” Edward said! “These horny boys still have to drink, and I never got the chance to guess what you want.” Edward walked around the table so that he was standing right next to Eyebrows. The man's nose twitched as he was fully bathed in Edwards Pheromones. He gripped the table as he fought a war against his own hormones. 

Edward leaned in until his lips were practically touching Eyebrows ear. “You want to let loose,” he said activating his silver tongue technique. Since the last time Edward had used the ability he had gained three more energy points and regenerated another six. Just enough for him to expend the ten energy points needed for his technique.

The effect of the ability was immediate and jarring. The man's knees buckled and his eyes went wide. Edward’s only warning was a sudden spike in desire from his Sage sense before Eyebrows smashed his lips into Edwards, making out with the snake charmer vigorously and with ample tongue. 

Edward had imagined a lot of first kiss scenarios, but never once had he pictured it being with a burly grumpy sixty-year-old man. Edward had intended the technique to make the guy live a little, maybe go and dance or take a few shots. He guessed that was what he got for being so vague with his words.

Edward wasn’t sure if the other men had also been effected by his Silver Tongue ability or if it was just that seeing their friend and the French art critic swap saliva broke their the last bit of resistance, but they too let their horny side free. Two of the men started to make out while the third unzipped his own pants and fished out his rock-hard dick. He began to jerk it off under the table. 

Some of the people on the dance floor saw the action happening and cheered and whistled. A few married couples began to make out and drunkenly grind up against each other.

Around Edward, the action only intensified as the men breathed in more and more of his pheromones. All three of the other men now had their dicks out and were in the process of jerking each other off. Eyebrows groped at Edward's crotch, and though he was tempted to let him fish his dick out the older man had already taken Edward’s first kiss which seemed like more than enough. Instead, Edward maneuvered him in front of one of his friend's dicks and soon he was sucking it happily. 

Edward stood back watching the orgy develop before him, trying to control his own hard-on. He was amazed by how easy that was. He had been under the assumption that his Gold Star Killer perk only applied to himself, but it seemed that once these previously straight men got over their barrier with one man they were much less resistant with others, especially when made so uncontrollably horny by his pheromones.  

The progress bar of the quest slowly crept upward, though remained frustratingly at 95%. Edward had no idea how other than lighting the gallery on fire he could possibly liven up this party more than an orgy of divorced old straight men. He got a notification on his phone, yet another thirst comment from a hopeful sugar daddy on his latest post. Seeing that he gave him an idea. 

Edward started to film a video. He panned over the live music, and dancing crowd, and showed a brief shot of the men making out from behind, then flipped the camera back to himself and pumped his fist like he was in a club. He quickly typed out a caption giving the address and promising anyone who came a good time. He clicked post. 

Edward had no idea if this would work. He surly wouldn’t go to a party he learned about from a random guy on social media, although if the guy looked like Edward did he might consider it. 

While Edward waited to see if anyone would come he walked around the party attempting various other things to liven up the function. He got up on stage and started singing with the musicians, amazed by how much the boosts to his charisma had improved his voice and musical ability. After a few minutes however, it became clear he wasn’t increasing the quest's progress and that his pheromones were messing up the musicians, as they spent more time looking at his ass than their instruments. 

Edward tried to liven up the dance circle floor. He got into the center, started thrusting his hips, and even took his shirt off to reveal a scrawny if perfectly proportioned, torso. This also didn't help the quest, though caused the watching orgy to all cum at once.

The countdown on the quest had only twenty minutes left. Edward was about to admit defeat and give up his dreams of earning the extra reward when the first of the new guests began to arrive. A group of sorority girls hesitantly entered the art gallery, sure they were at the wrong location. They saw the booze and dancing and joined in on the fun.

Edward chatted with them for a few minutes, grateful his pheromones didn't affect them nearly as much as the men. Edward was amazed at how easy it was to have conversations with strangers. His charisma and perks now made him an effortless chat. He was more witty, friendlier, a better listener, and a better flirt. He was able to effortlessly remember all their names and without anxiety command the conversation. 

He found out from one of the girls that Sigma Alpha, the top fraternity on campus, had just canceled their big party for tonight and that everyone who wasn’t going to the sewer rave had decided to come here instead.

Sure enough, the gallery was soon filled with drunk college students, mixing and mingling with their rich parents or professors, all drunk and dancing. The divorced men had migrated to a back room and Edward heard tell that other men had joined them.

Scintillation and River with messy hair came out of the bathroom to find the formal party had turned into a frat house replacement. Edward expected he would have to talk them down but they immediately joined in, swept up by the electric energy of the party. 

Edward got a text on his phone. He feared it would be Leon declaring he was level ten and had won but it was Trent telling him that he and Tag were going to go to that art gallery party that the model guy had posted about instead of the sewer rave. 

As more and more people arrived the quest slowly ticked up and up. Finally, with only a few minutes left on the timer Edward watched a group of guys bring a keg through the door and Scintillation did a rather impressive keg stand finally boosting the quest objective to liven up the party to 100%. Edward felt a wave of relief then a wave of something else. Edward finally reached level ten and received a ton of notifications including the usual stat points, a new perk, two new techniques, and a new quest he couldn’t quite believe. Edward left at a run, skinny legs and arms moving with effortless grace as he raced back to the house he shared with Leon, intensely eager to rub his victory in Leon’s face and show him the new quest he had been offered. There was no way Leon was going to believe this shit.

-

Leon's vision turned red as Hunter viciously squeezed his windpipe. Around him, the dagorhir players tried furiously to get the big man off of him but without success. In vain, Leon tried to activate his inner strength power, but it was still on cooldown and nothing happened. He tried again with the same lack of success. He felt himself starting to lose consciousness, to lose the ability to think. With a desperate stubborn animal need to live Leon tried one last time right as the ability ended its cooldown. Leon felt a colossal burst of strength rush into his body. 

His vision cleared, and his neck didn't feel in pain anymore. With an inhumanly swift motion, Leon broke Hunter's grip on his hands then freed his feet and lifted them up to his torso. The shield Ruth had thrown Leon was pinned in-between the two struggling muscular men. Leon kicked at it with an inner strength-enhanced blow. A loud boom like a clap of thunder sounded as Leon sent both the shield and Hunter flying into the air, the two landing some distance away in the grass with a crack that could have belonged to either Hunter or the wooden shield. 

All around him the Dagorhir players and the frat boys stopped their struggling with each other to look at him in slack-jawed amazement. Leon heard a ding as he leveled up. 

“You have reached level eight. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, +0.3 Intelligence.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“No Fear: As a Juggernaut, you charge head first into danger without fear. You are now stouthearted in front of all but the most forsaken of odds and all but reckless in the heat of battle. Note: The potency of this effect scales off of strength and intelligence. Note: You are immune to fear effects from all sources except those with a rank of legendary or celestial.”

Leon felt the normal changes that came with a boost to strength. His back straightened, his legs beefed up, and his hands and feet grew slightly in size. There was a mental change too that came with the new perk. Leon had had too much adrenalin in his system to fully process it but he had been scared, terrified even as Hunter had wrapped his big hands around his neck. He had thought he was going to die and the feeling almost paralyzed him into inaction. Now that feeling was gone. 

It wasn’t that Leon was some mindless brute. He wouldn’t go sticking his dick in a bee nest but that was no longer because he feared the pain and now a simply rational decision of minimizing injury. 

The frat bros who had been struggling with the Dagohir players picked up a number of the foam weapons from the ground and rushed to Hunter's side, forming a defensive wall around him. From the ground Hunter slowly sat up with a groan, painfully cradling the arm he had landed. “You're a fucking freak,” he said pointing at Leon. The Dagorhir players formed up around Leon in his own circle of protection. His burst of power from his inner strength ability had long faded and Leon now felt his own injuries quite acutely, his neck was tender and sore and he imagined he was going to have a nasty hand-shaped bruise there soon. What Leon didn't feel was fear. 

Ruth gripped her sword tightly in front of her threateningly as if it were anything more than foam. “Get back to your frat house before we call the police.”

Across the field, Hunter got fully to his feet, helped up by one of his friends who he ungratefully brushed off. He was handed a large sword by another of his frat bros. Hunter tightened his grip around the thing, and gave it a few experimental swings then flashed a smile with far too many teeth. “Your all fucking dead,” he said. 

In Leon's vision, a notification popped up. 

“Combat quest available”

“Objectives: Defeat Sigma Alpha members (0/5). Reward: XP” 

Leon smiled. He grabbed a sword and shield of his own from the ground and donned the helmet a tall girl behind him gave him. Then he assumed a battle stance. 

There were a few seconds of silence as both sides stared the other down. Then at the same time, both he and Hunter charged forward, their armies doing the same behind them. The world became a chaotic blur. Two friendly archers in the back fired foam-tipped arrows at the frat guy just behind Hunter. The projectiles couldn’t hurt the man but they packed enough of a punch to destabilize him, allowing two others who raced forward bring him down. A big Sigma Alpha guy Brough a short guy with glasses to Leon's left down in a football sack. To his right, Ruth blocked a punch with her shield then brought her foam sword down savagely onto the back of her opponent’s knee bringing him down. 

Leon had only one target in mind. He felt for the first time like a true juggernaut, pounding the ground heavily with his large strong bare feet as he rapidly charged at Hunter. From the grass, the downed frat guy tried to grab Leon’s leg but at that moment Leon was unstoppable. Hunter seemed just as eager for a fight. He charged forward with his sword in two hands dragging behind him. Though made of foam Hunter had ample enough power to do serious damage. Still, Leon didn’t feel the slightest thrill of fear. The latest level of strength had made him equal in height and musculature to his big opponent, meaning neither was likely to overpower the other. Instead, Leon knew he had to rely on other advantages, namely his shield, his “perfect form” perk, and his inner strength power, though the cooldown of that was less then halfway done. 

The first advantage came in handy right away, as Leon blocked Hunter’s powerful overhand swing with a precisely placed parry. Leon followed up with a couple of strikes at Hunter’s torso with quick accurate jabs while Hunter brought his unwieldy sword back into position to strike again. Leon’s strikes didn't seem to deter the raging bull as he swung again this time from the side. Leon chose to dodge the strike rather than block it. He was fast, he stepped back causing the swing to miss him completely, Hunter was fast as well, however. He turned the momentum of the missed swing into a shoulder check that hit Leon hard in his bare chest, knocking the wind out of him. 

Leon stumbled back and in the momentary pause was able to survey the battle going on behind him. The Dagorhir members had the advantage in numbers, experience and teamwork. Leon watched with the help of two short guys Ruth was able to fully bring down one of Hunter’s friends, a tall but slender handsome guy who raised his hands in surrender from the ground, raising the combat quest objective to 1/5.

The frat bros however had the advantage of size and brutality. A massive man even larger than Hunter or Leon threw two Dagorhir players savagely aside before charging at Ruth. Leon knew he needed to take care of Hunter fast so he could aid his allies. 

Leon and Hunter exchanged blows while he waited the agonizing minuet for his ability to come off cooldown. The last two times Leon had used it against Hunter directly. Throwing the big man around like a rag doll, which while fun, only seemed to enrage the frat president. Instead, Leon needed to find a way to use his ability to incapacitate him, preferably without doing serious physical harm. 

An idea came to him. He let Hunter stalk forward pretending to be winded. Hunter raised his sword to finish off Leon but he didn't have the chance. Leon again activated his Inner Strength ability. Instead of using the second of speed and power to hit Hunter, Leon grabbed him. He reached an arm around his back, and much to Hunter’s surprise, into his pants.

Hunter's eyes went wide as Leon grabbed a handful of the man's underwear and then lifted him into the air. Leon let out a very unmasculine yelp as he was subjected to the worst and most public wedgie of his life. Leon didn't stop there. He brought his knee up onto the suspended man’s crotch, eliciting an even higher pitch yelp before Leon dropped him to the ground where Hunter collapsed into a heap.

Humiliated and in pain, Hunter rolled around on the ground, out of the fight. The quest updated to 2/5. 

From there Leon and his allies were able to make quick work of the other three frat guys. The tally went to 3/5 as Leon knocked a bulky man off the Dagorhir player he had pinned. Then it went to 4/5 as Ruth bashed another in the face with her shield, breaking his nose and causing him to run away. The last, a tall crafty-looking guy raised his hands in surrender. Leon allowed him to collect his fallen friends and let them all go stumbling away calling out warnings after them about what would happen the next time they picked a fight. The quest was completed and Leon heard a familiar ding as he leveled up for the second time in only a few minutes.  

He felt himself grow even larger, going from big to large. He looked like a junior bodybuilder, tall and muscular. The short pudgy kid he had been at the start of the day was gone, and in his place was a towering hulking man of corded muscle and lean sharp lines. 

“You have reached level nine. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, +0.3 Intelligence.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Armored Skin: The natural toughness of your skin can now resist all but significant instances of physical harm. Note: the potency of his effect is boosted by strength. Note: This protection is less effective against non-physical damage.”

Though his "Animal Endurance” perk was already healing his bruises rapidly, Leon was very grateful for this new perk that would make it more difficult for an asshole like Hunter to hurt him in the future. He felt his skin hardened as all the flaps from his weight loss not yet filled by muscle tightened protectively around his body. His light brown skin gained a slightly gray shine to it and a hard smooth texture. Leon knocked a fist experimentally against his bicep and heard a hollow metallic ringing as if his arm were a tin can. 

Ruth walked around the grass towards him and the two watched the frat bros retreat. “Holy shit” she said clearly winded but grinning. Around them, the others got to their feet. Besides, for a few scrapes and bruises, none of them were too badly hurt. “You got a lot more buff since the last time I saw you,” Ruth said as if noticing for the first time his bare muscular torso. “Also why were those guys trying to kill you?”

“It's a long story,” Leon said, not sure exactly how he would even start explaining the events of the day. “Thanks for your help though, that could have gotten rather nasty without you I think,” Leon said, noticing absently how his “No Fear” perk also applied in social settings making him less nervous and more honest. 

Ruth snorted a laugh. “Anytime Superman. How about you put your number into my phone, and let me know if those guys try to bother you again.” Leon agreed although, with his new armored skin perk and his 26 strength, he was more worried about Hunter retaliating against Ruth and the others.

“I left my stuff back in there,” Leon said gesturing to the fitness center and then his naked body.

Ruth’s body glanced across his bare torso and penis without much interest, neither surprised or lustful. Leon was getting the sense she wasn’t into guys. “Right well text me!” She called after him as he jogged away, dick and pecs juggling up and down with the movement. “And we meet every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Save me a sword, I’ll be there” Leon called back and meant it. Besides dying that had been some of the most fun he had since he and Edward had stayed up all night to beat the new Dark Souls game. 

Edward rushed back inside the fitness center. He was reminded of the little fat kid who had been so nervous to walk in only half a day ago. Now despite being naked the tall hunk walked carefree into the building, feeling the familiar wave of confidence wash over him from his Gym Rat perk.

Before Leon grabbed his stuff from the locker room he decided to knock out one of the quests he had just been assigned, “Break a record at the gym”. Leon suspected there was some loophole in there where he could beat the record for most math done or some other workaround. The Juggernaut classes’ +0.3 to intelligence per level made it clear however that it wasn’t his job to be so clever. 

Instead, he walked up to the largest man he could see, an older guy just a touch larger than him doing bicep curls, and bluntly asked “What's the record for that thing?” motioning to the bench press. The man didn't seem to notice Leon’s nakedness, but he did take in his large muscles and gave him a nod of respect. 

“Big Jon does 465,” he said in a surprisingly higher-pitched voice. Leon thanked him and then started to load the press. He supposed lifting 466 would complete the quest but after the triumph of the fight, he was feeling cocky so he instead put five large heavy plates onto each side of the bar. The thing sagged with the weight and Leon briefly doubted himself. He remembered how difficult it had been to only lift a third of his body weight. Now he was lifting almost three times his weight. 

Leon took a deep breath and assumed the position. He felt a bit bad about putting his bare butt on the bench but no one seemed to mind. With great effort, he lifted the bar into the air and slowly brought it down so that the bar almost touched his downward-facing pointy nipples. Then he hefted the bar upwards. His arms shook and a vein emerged on his neck with the effort but Leon lifted the bar back up. The quest was completed. 

For fun, he activated his inner strength ability and did two more reps with ease. He felt the gains instantly added to his physique thanks, a small swelling of his chest and triceps, but intoxicating non the less. 

Leon wiped down his workout equipment, he was determined not to become an asshole just because he was big, and ventured back downstairs to the locker room from before. The place was trashed, lockers smashed from where he had thrown Hunter. On the ground, he found his discarded clothes. His Superman teeshirt, an XL from his heavier days, fit strangely on his body now. It was tight in the shoulders and chest, fit well on his muscular arms but sagged around his midsection. He decided to ditch it, though he did end up putting his underwear and shorts back on. As fun as it was to have his dick out and have no one care he worried it would be uncomfortable with the constant physical exertion he would had to do. He also put on his shoes and socks, though he suspected his new Armored Skin perk would allow him to run over uneven surfaces barefoot without feeling a thing. 

In his shorts pocket, he found his phone and his wallet, which Hunter and his friends luckily had left alone.

He typed out a quick text to Edward “Level 9 sucker. One more level till you got to kiss my ass.” He also added Ruth’s contact information to his phone and asked her to thank the Dagorhir club again for the assistance.

A few moments later Edward texted back. “As if. I’m 9 too. You're about to cream when you see me.” Leon scoffed at the idea of ugly Edward making anyone cream.

His next quest was simple but had the potential to be time-consuming, which could be a problem if he wanted to beat Edward to level ten. “Run a marathon” would have been Leon’s definition of hell before Altered State but now with his new physique and his Animal Endurance perk the prospect seemed almost fun. 

Slightly more clothed and with the motivation of being so close to ten Leon began to run. He didn't have a particular destination in mind. Instead, he just allowed his legs to carry him around campus, marveling at how fast and efficient his body moved. Despite his breakneck pace, Leon didn't feel even slightly tired.

He wasn’t sure if it was his speed or his muscular shirtless body but his passing garnered lots of attention from the students and faculty he passed on campus, on their way to a late dinner or an early pre-game. He got several cat calls from rowdy guys he passed and even had one girl whip out her phone to take a video of Leon’s running back. 

Leon circled around campus twice before he decided to take his run out into the city beyond. He passed restaurants and storefronts and even the mall that sold all the trendy clothes he and Edward wouldn’t be caught dead in. He turned into an unfamiliar part of town where the buildings were nicer and the apartments all had doormen who watched him run past disapprovingly. 

Leon slowed his pace as he ran past what looked like an art gallery, only it had loud music coming from inside and a stream of drunk college kids entering. Leon was very curious to know what could possibly be going on inside but decided against it in fear it would reset his marathon counter.

In all, it took Leon an hour and a half to run a full marathon. My the end even with all his perks and his strength Leon was winded and sweaty, but also immensely proud. He had just run the fastest marathon in human history, and Leon knew he would only get faster. 

He stopped to lean against the brick wall of a dorm to catch his breath as the quest marked itself as complete and Leon reached the much-anticipated level ten. The familiar surge of strength that came with each level up course through his body along with something else. Starting at his balls there was a cold feeling, like the spreading chill one got after drinking a cup of ice water on a warm day, seeped through him. He checked his notifications for an explanation. 

“You have reached level ten. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma, +0.3 Intelligence.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Tip Top Testosterone: Your body now produces an excess of testosterone without any of the negative side effects. Note: Testosterone production is further enhanced by additional levels.” 

“At level ten the Juggernaut class gets to pick from two class abilities. Note: the ability not picked may become available at levels 15, 20, 25, etc.”

“Choice one.”

“Size Up: Once per day you can grow in size by 58% for 58 seconds. While active your strength is doubled. Note: Both percentage size increases and duration are equal to double your strength score.”

“Choice two.”

“Unstoppable: Twice per day you can become unstoppable. This ability lasts for 10 seconds and during this time the Juggernaut cannot be slowed, stunned, immobilized, or prevented from moving in any way. Note: The duration of this effect is equal to the level. Note: You gain an additional use of this skill daily every ten levels.” 

The two abilities appeared next to each other in parallel gray boxes in his vision. Leon read each description several times. The Unstoppable ability could have saved his life in the fight with Hunter. Leon loved the idea of running through walls or breaking out of bindings like a true unstoppable Juggernaut.

The other ability, Size Up had its own more flashy appeal as well. Leon was already massive, more muscular then most men could ever dream of. He imagined himself growing 58% bigger, he would be a giant. At least eight feet tall and well over 300 pounds, and with double the strength. Leon imagined that would be enough to bend solid steel, or lift a car. Let Hunter try to choke him when he had all that. Leon knew it was only a once a day ability, that in the long run the unstoppable perk might actually be more useful, but Leon couldn’t pass up the flashier option, especially now that he had no fear keeping him cautious. He reasoned he could always pick that ability at level 15. Leon mentally selected the first ability and both options disappeared. A new icon appeared next to his Inner Strength cooldown showing him the number of ability uses he had left for the day, one. 

Temporary distraction from choosing a perk now over Leon returned his attention to the effects the latest perk was having. Leon felt his balls begin to expand painfully in his already too-small underwear. His skin started to prickle as hair grew up around his crotch then up his stomach giving him a happy trail. As the icy feeling spread around his body so did the growing hair. His chest itched as dark brown fur grew dense around his nipples and in-between his pecs stopping right before his collar bone giving him a pelt of chest hair though not one so thick as to obscure his musculature. The itching spread over his arms and legs and pits where the hair grew darker and thicker before reaching his face which grew a short stubble beard. 

The testosterone in his body continued the spread. Leon began to feel the hormone in his mind. He felt like he had the one time he and Edward shared a blunt they had stolen from Alvis only less giggly and much much more horny. The feeling of horniness only grew, not the jerk off before bed type of horny either, but the fuck anything that moves kind. Leon took a few calming breaths trying to ride through the storm of hormones flooding his body. 

He was half tempted to go back to that party he had seen and pick up a chick to get some of this electric pent up energy out. Leon thought it wouldn’t be too hard with his new smoking hot body. But he needed to get home and prove to Edward he had won the bet. Besides he and Edward had made a pact to loose their virginity together. Leon decided once he was done bragging about reaching level 10 first he could play wing man for Edward and find him some guy to suck off then go for a hot girl. 

Plus he needed Edward’s help understanding his next quest. “Partake in vigorous carnal cardio” was all it read. The only one of those words Leon knew was “cardio”, and also the word “in" he supposed. 

Leon checked Edward’s location on his phone, which the two had shared with each other freshman year, and cursed. Edwards dot was heading back towards their apartment from the direction of the city. If he was on his way home then that likely meant he was level ten as well. Leon needed to get home first for bragging rights of course. 

Leon began to run again, energized by the testosterone now flowing through his system like blood. The sun had set and he hoped it was dark enough for people not to notice the stiff bulge in his shorts, although they might not care thanks to his ���Naked Confidence” perk. Leon really was going to need to fuck something soon, and fuck it hard.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

S'mores - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Twenty-Nine of Pedrotober: The Uninvited Pedrotober Hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Is this even a question with Joel anymore? E. All the way through. Unprotected p in v, a bit of fingering, cum shot, multiple orgasms. I think that's most of it.

Word Count: 1700

a/n: Several things spiraled out of control and since I didn't have anything particularly scheduled for today's prompt of The Uninvited, we went off-book (although if you squint hard enough, there is a tiny little reference here). Here's one last Pedrotober Joel for his wives. Also...did someone say...grey PJs?

It's raining.

Weeks of planning, of meticulously ensuring that everything for this weekend would go perfectly. Sarah at her friend's house for two nights, Joel's truck packed to the brim with gear, the campsite reserved in advance, your route planned out on the map, and it's raining.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Joel whispers when he comes up behind you.

"Why did it have to rain today?" you ask, a disappointed edge to your voice. Of course on the one day you needed the skies to be clear, Mother Nature decided it might be a good time for a monsoon, and the rain pattering against the window you stare out feels like a mirror of the frustrated tears running down your cheeks.

Joel laughs lightly against your hair, arms tightening around you. "To be fair, it's also going to rain tomorrow."

His joke doesn't land the way he hoped, because seconds later you're retreating to his bedroom, the door rattling the walls when it slams behind you. Collapsing down against the messy sheets, you wait for his knock, but it never comes, only forcing you further into the mental breakdown that's been simmering since you watched the weather report last night.

This camping trip was supposed to be your first weekend away together. Just the two of you without any interruption from the busy lives that often kept you squarely on opposite schedules. But now, as the uninvited guest outside pours down against the house and the seconds tick away without any word from your boyfriend, you realize that you're spending it alone instead. You roll over, grabbing the pillow that maintains his musky scent, and you bury your face in it as you let out a scream against the soft fabric.

It must muffle the sound of Joel's initial knock on the door, because the next thing you know, you can hear his soft voice from the other side. "Babe?" You debate ignoring him until his fingers rap against the wood again. "Sweetheart, can I come in?" He must hear your whispered confirmation because the light from the hallway shines into his room and you can feel the dip of the bed beside you a moment later.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly, hand running along your side in soothing motions. "I know this weekend was important to you."

"It sure as fuck was, Joel." The anger still layered in your voice surprises you, and you quickly let out a long sigh as you sit up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you. It's not your fault it's raining cats and dogs outside." As if Mother Nature heard you, a clap of thunder sounds and you glance at the window when the wind picks up.

Joel, however, still has his eyes firmly set on you. "Come on," he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together as he guides you off the bed, "I want to show you something."

With furrowed brows, you follow him down the stairs and into the living room. The curtains have been closed and he's lit a variety of candles that you're pretty sure he pulled out of the back of a cabinet, scattering them around the room so it's bathed in warm light.

"What is this?" It's an honest question as you take in the sleeping bags on the floor, his black next to your yellow, and the way he's brought half of your supplies in from the garage to create a little campsite in front of the couch, complete with the jugs of water and bag of instant coffee you'd bought for the trip.

He tugs you into the center of the room, "I thought that since our trip got canceled maybe we could still spend it here. Sarah's still gone for the weekend and..."

You're kissing him before he can even finish the sentence, gripping the half-open henley he's wearing to pull him closer. When you ease back, you maintain the connection of your skin against his, foreheads touching. "Thank you."

"There's more," he explains, nearly giddy with excitement as he ushers you down onto the makeshift bed and moves toward the kitchen, your eyes lingering on the grey sweatpants that leave little to your imagination. Not that you need to imagine anything when you're already very familiar with what lies beneath the surface.

Joel reappears with a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a bar of chocolate, the roasting sticks you'd bought specifically for the trip in his other hand.

"Figured we could make s'mores and watch a movie. The luxuries of not camping, you know?" he suggests, but you have other plans, and the second he's situated beside you, you're climbing into his lap. Your thighs bracket his, the hard length of him already pressing into your core through the layers that separate you. He drops the food somewhere beside you when your lips trail down to bite into the skin of his neck. "Or not," he mumbles before recapturing your lips in a brutal kiss.

His hands are everywhere. They're trailing up your spine as they tug your shirt over your head. They're lingering on the underside of your breasts as you run your own across his warm chest. They're shifting you onto your back so he's hovering above you, hips pressing down for just a second before they're dragging your leggings off your skin. They're between your folds, twisting around your clit in quick succession as he works you up.

You work just as quickly, tugging at his waistband until his cock springs free, the grey sweatpants added to the pile of clothing on the floor. Your hand drops to wrap around his length, and he falters when you run your thumb over the tip before sliding back down. He refocuses, his mouth working its way along your body, catching on one breast before chasing lower, but you stop him, rolling him in a smooth motion so he's trapped beneath you once more.

"I can't believe you did this," you moan breathlessly when your slick center slides over the plush curve of his stomach. He guides you, hands on your hips as you begin to rock back and forth over his skin, easing you lower until his tip catches on your entrance.

"If I knew this was how you'd react, I would've done it sooner," he jokes as you let him slip into your heat. "Would'a begged for rain and..."

He's left speechless by a sharp snap of your hips down against his. "You're saying that this is better than fishing for your dinner?" you ask, leaning down over him to kiss his chest. "That this is better than sitting around a campfire?" You run your tongue in a long stripe up to the edge of his jaw, breathing out against his skin. "That this is better than a nice," you begin, easing up on your knees. "Long," you continue, slowly letting your walls drag along his length. "Strenuous," you pause when he's nearly slipped from you, watching him struggle to maintain his composure and resist the urge to thrust up into you. "Hike?" you finish, dropping back down and taking him to the hilt as you finish your question.

Joel groans loudly, his head rolling back against the camp pillow it rests on. "Fuck, sweetheart."

"I'm trying to, Miller," you return with a breathless laugh, "but someone seems to be missing lying on the hard ground looking at the stars."

"Don't need the stars when I have a much better view right here," he grunts, holding you against him as he fips you once more, regaining his control over your body. "Nothin' better than seeing you come apart beneath me."

"Then you'd better get to work if you want to see that."

Your words light a fire, and when he bottoms out inside you again, it's forceful. "With pleasure."

He's balanced on his knees in a way that you know he'll complain about later, but now, as his thumbs press down into the thick of your thighs to keep your legs spread wide, he makes no protest. Neither do you, not when Joel's crowding you into the floor, the sleeping bags hitching under your hips when he picks up the pace.

"Just think, we've got all weekend to do this now," he breathes out, continuing to pound you into the floor. "Think about how many times I can make you come between now and Monday morning."

Something about the way he says it sends you over the edge without warning, your fingers digging into the fabric beneath you. Your hips attempt to canter up against his, but his grip keeps you firmly pressed down, halting your movements as he keeps going. "Joel," you whimper, your high hazing your vision as another quickly builds beneath the surface.

He changes the angle, letting your legs close around his waist as he gets closer, rocking into you with hard, shallow thrusts. A gasp leaves your lips when he grinds against your clit, and you respond by raking your nails down his back.

"I've got you, Sweetheart," he whispers against your ear, aware of the assurance you need that you can take everything he's giving you. "Come on, one more."

It doesn't take much, not when you're wrapped in his strong arms and he's already made you come once, and you're clenching around him seconds later. You're overwhelmed to the point that you barely recognize the way he shifts back, pulling out of you as you writhe beneath him. It's only when you feel him spill across the skin of your stomach that you realize he's still above you, a fist wrapped around his cock.

You're both breathing heavily when you return to your senses, the rain still pattering against the window. Joel leans over to grab a washcloth from one of the bags you'd packed, gently cleaning you off before tossing it on the pile of discarded clothes.

"So, " he whispers when he lays back down next to you, his back partially against the couch as you turn to rest against him, "s'mores?"

You roll your eyes and press a kiss on his warm chest. "Yes, Joel. S'mores."

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: Idk if you've ever written anything abt this but I love the idea of some small foreign entity crawling inside my womb while I'm asleep and like. Fusing I guess? And just constantly fertilizing me to the point I'm always pumping out its kids. Makes me go straight to Niagara falls lol

I'm sure I have some permapreg like it somewhere around here, but it's always something I'm willing to explore <3

It's just an ordinary night for you, so you manage to get to sleep eventually. That's when your uninvited guest comes out to play. Maybe it was under your bed, or just outside your window, or somewhere else in your room that you don't check often enough. Whatever it is, the thing slinks out from its hiding spot on too many limbs and seeks out your available hole. It knows it has a good project on its hands - you can be turned into a good tool for it, something to pump out not-quite-humans infected with its genes.

Its body secretes sedatives that keep you fast asleep as it opens up your cunt with its tapered body, pulling itself deeper and deeper inside of you until it presses right up against your cervix. With a little extra force, it pops inside, sliding perfectly into place as it latches to the top of your womb. It quickly dissolves a portion of the inner lining so that its body can fuse to yours, and it even incorporates some of your DNA into itself so that your immune system doesn't recognize it as a threat. Within minutes, its skin and your womb flow into each other seamlessly, and it can begin its work.

It takes a little while to get your body up to speed on what the new plan is. The first round of hormones it secretes is meant to prepare its environment for its young in particular - they may be similar to humans in various superficial ways, but they are most certainly not the standard young a human should be bearing, and certainly at a rate far too fast for any human. Then, once your internal workings have been altered to its tastes, it starts releasing its seed into your womb - in fact, with bifurcated genitalia, it can simply insert a long probe directly into your fallopian tubes and bombard your unprotected ovaries with its sperm cells, fertilizing engorged eggs much faster than should be possible. In fact, new eggs are forming just for its purposes, which is normally an incredibly rare event - but, then again, this thing isn't producing humans, so human biology is mostly irrelevant.

The first cells start dividing late in the night while you're still peacefully sleeping, entirely unaware of how you've been changed. Permanently. Forever.

In the morning, you become acutely aware of the new developments when the first hints of labor pull you harshly into the waking world. You gasp and moan, clutching at your rounded, swollen belly. You're so large that you can't even adjust your position properly, and you're left to wonder, terrified, what must have happened last night for you to end up like this. You're not allowed to think much further about it, however, because the pain of a child pressing against your dilated cervix is a distraction from everything else, and you have to follow through on the urge to push before anything else can be done.

Labor is fast, in comparison to how long an active labor normally is, and it's agonizing as a result. Your body isn't used to being stretched open and pulled apart like this, much less from the inside out, so thoroughly claimed by something you can't identify - and yet, despite the pain, pleasure still washes over you, and you can't help but cum multiple times, delaying the birth as you clench hard around the inhuman child still sliding through your birth canal. Your cervix and cunt are stretched wide, wide open, torturous and euphoric at the same time, and you're tempted to linger at the crowning stage just to bask in the horrible, searing burn that comes from something just too big. Your body screams at you to bear down, though, so you do, your legs shaking as you cum again at the sensation of a newborn slipping wetly out of your newly-sloppy cunt.

As you lay back, fighting for breath, you can feel more weight gathering in your lower belly. Placing a hand on your midsection greets you with the sensation of your skin pulling tight under your fingers, an alien mass pushing out from within, filling up your womb with something you didn't ask for - and yet something that makes your skin burn with arousal, makes your eyes roll back in your head and your tongue loll out of your mouth when your cervix hugs another small body on its way out of you. The process seems to be speeding up - even as you're giving birth, another body stretches your insides.

These are just the growing pains as the organism that's taken you over makes sure its systems are in place properly. It's making sure that you can push out as many children as it commands, making sure that you're hyperfertile and loving it, making sure that the elevated pain response you're experiencing is simultaneously translated to pleasure so that it hurts and makes you cum at the same time. So far, everything is going well - but it wants to keep up the test run for a little while, pump out enough children to make up for its time outside of a human womb, when it couldn't produce young.

You're trapped in bed all day, screaming and sobbing through orgasm after orgasm as babies open you wide, an endless chain of children you can't identify, not at all human and yet with the appearances of oversized newborns. The way they can crawl immediately after birth - and climb up the walls, no less - tells you that you're not dealing with a weird human pregnancy; this is something entirely out of your wheelhouse, but you're finding it harder and harder to care as your brain learns more and more to enjoy your new position as a permanent baby factory, a sloppy hole for babies to come out of, an incubator. You're forgetting everything else you had planned for today, for next week, for the upcoming month, the rest of the year. Pleasure and pain, and this implacable urge to give birth over and over again, are quickly wiping out the desire to do anything else.

By the end of the day, things have slowed back down, but you're still giving birth at least once an hour. In between, you're rubbing your cunt, easily sliding a fist into your sloppy hole to keep yourself open for the next child that needs to come out of you. You're all too happy to stay like this, but when there's an extended pause, you take the opportunity to fall back asleep, exhausted without realizing it.

Then, you wake up, and your midsection is larger than it was yesterday morning. The morning sun says hello through your drawn blinds as you wail, squeezing out a batch of easily five or six newborns, apparently left gestating inside of you all night while the thing that took you over let you get some rest. It seems to have a good picture of the human limit, but you have no clue of any of this; all you know is that something happened to you, and it's the best time you've ever had in your life.

[thesakuragarnet]

Lick Your Wounds

Summary: When Dabi arrives at Hawks’ apartment after a failed recruitment attempt, he quickly learns that the Commission has made the hero hide his true colors.

DabiHawksWeek2024 Prompt Three: Bl00dplay

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! TAGS BENEATH THE KEEP READING SECTION

Word Count: 2,022 words

AO3 link

Tags: DabiHawks, bl00dplay, smvt, dead dove: do not eat, bl00d and injury, DabiHawksWeek2024, DHWeek24NSFW, swearing, s3xual content, oral fixaiton, tongue f*cking a wound, t0p dabi, b0ttom hawks

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

Dabi loves Hawks’ bed. It doesn’t creak. It’s big enough for Hawks to completely spread his wings when he’s lying down on his back. It’s soft and comfortable. It’s all the things that his cramped room at the villains’ hideout doesn’t have to offer. The sheets feel nice against his skin; they aren’t scratchy and thin and snagging against his staples. In short, it’s perfect, and Dabi finds it increasingly harder to get out of after each late-night “interrogation” with the hero. 

However, it’s the first thing that enters Dabi’s brain when he gets stabbed in the forearm, ripping through his scarred skin and revealing the flesh and blood beneath. It was just a low-level criminal that he’d tried to recruit for the Paranormal Liberation Front…now he’s nothing more than ashes in the alleyway. He wants nothing more than to sleep in Hawks’ bed. He craves comfort…and the last thing he wants is Ujiko offering any services…services that might end up turning him into more of a monster than he already is. 

So, Dabi is climbing up the fire escape that leads to one of Hawks’ secret Commission apartments; he just hoped that this was the one Hawks was using tonight. It wouldn’t be a big deal if he wasn’t there; after all, Dabi just wants to patch up his wound and get a good night’s sleep. Still, he wouldn’t complain if he could get said good night’s sleep after fucking Hawks’ brains out. 

Dabi fishes into the pocket of his pants, wincing with every movement from the dull throbbing in his arm as blood slowly drips on his shoes. His fingers manage to wrap around the copied key in his pocket as he scrambles onto Hawks’ balcony, and he shoves it into the lock, turning it and flinging the door open with a grunt. 

SHIIK!

Dabi gulps when he feels the feather blade pressing against the nape of his neck the moment he steps inside; two golden eyes gleam in the darkness, but they seem to soften when they meet the glowing cerulean of the villain. 

“Oh…Dabi. You didn’t call,” Hawks mutters, eyes narrowed at the uninvited guest.

“Didn’t have the time,” Dabi shrugs, pushing the blade away with two fingers, and he straightens up his posture. “Need your med kit.”

Hawks sniffs…and then goes rigid as Dabi closes the door behind him. 

Hawks is a bird of prey. There’s no doubt about it…especially with the way he’s eyeing the gaping wound on Dabi’s arm. It isn’t exactly a “gaping wound”, but, to Hawks, it might as well be. The way the blood subtly pours out. The need to suckle and lick and bite bubbles in Hawks’ brain. The blood…it smells so good… and Hawks just knows it tastes even better. Hawks is a heteromorph… a mutant as his HPSC handler used to call him. He had animalistic cravings that resulted from his bird-like Quirk. There was a reason his moniker was Hawks . 

“ Fuck ,” Hawks moans under his breath, pupils turning to slits as his pulse quickens, hunger flaring and talons unsheathing. Part of him wants to rip the wound open and drink Dabi dry…to let the crimson rivers run until there’s nothing left. Even more specifically…because it’s Dabi’s blood. His soulmate. His lover. It smells sweet… delicious even… erotic .

‘NO.’ The Commission leader’s threatening voice cuts through Keigo’s psyche, and he straightens up, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth and adjusting his posture. 

Dabi blinks, confused. His vision is shit, but he can vaguely make out Hawks’ movements in the dim shadows of the apartment. Hawks isn’t breathing…or at least he’s breathing so shallowly that it’s impossible to tell. Hawks steps to the side, nodding his head curtly toward the master bedroom, and Dabi hesitantly walks by him in the darkness. Hawks knows he should stay put. He knows he shouldn’t follow Dabi…he shouldn’t risk it…but…he can’t help it. His feet move with a mind of their own, stalking Dabi as he walks into the bedroom and to the connected bathroom. Dabi switches on the light, and Hawks gasps, covering his mouth before he can sigh like a porn star. The crimson oozes out of Dabi’s arm in a thin rivulet, tantalizing and captivating and making Hawks’ heartbeat throb in his ears. The gasp was enough for Hawks to get the scent of Dabi’s blood raw in his veins…and it’s overwhelming. Hawks grabs the frame of the door, gripping tight enough to make it creak as he stands on shaky legs. His basic instincts are telling him to pounce…to suck the scarlet out of his lover until he’s had his fill. 

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” Dabi grunts as he looks for the medkit in Hawks’ bathroom cabinets. Hawks mumbles something unintelligible, his voice strained and his gaze distant. 

“Huh?” Dabi blurts, raising an eyebrow as he looks over his shoulder at Hawks. 

“Don’t…cover…it up,” Hawks whispers, “Please.”

Dabi stops his search for the medkit, brain reeling from how his composed pet Pro is suddenly losing his goddamn mind over a freshly bleeding gash. He slowly turns around to face the hero, thoroughly unsettled and irritated. 

“You want me to stand here and let it get infected? You’ve seen my body, birdshit, I can’t do that,” Dabi snaps, annoyed. Hawks looks pale in the bathroom light, sweat beading on his forehead as he swallows thickly. 

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen a stab wound before,” Dabi scoffs at the twisted fascination on Hawks’ face.

“I’m…I’m not allowed around trauma calls. Can’t be around blood,” Hawks rasps, voice low and husky; his happy-go-lucky tone has completely vanished. 

“You were around blood in Kyushu,” Dabi retorts, and Hawks subtly shakes his head.

“Sometimes it’s unavoidable,” Hawks replies, still soft.

“You were fine, then,” Dabi snorts, and Hawks takes a deep breath.

“I was fine because…it wasn’t yours ,” Hawks murmurs, and the wheels in Dabi’s head start turning. The calculating, hypnotic stare, the wet corners of Hawks’ mouth, and the trembling in his voice point to one thing.

“God…you’re actually turned on right now,” Dabi chuckles, his face contorting from disturbed to amused as a sly grin spreads across his scar-laden mug. Hawks seems to squirm in place, unable to refute the claim.

“You sick motherfucker,” Dabi sneers, taking a step closer to Hawks, who goes completely rigid once more, eyes trained on Dabi’s exposed flesh. The blood’s already started to coagulate…but that doesn’t matter. Hawks still wants to lick the wound clean. 

“Awww, what’s wrong, birdie? Commission says you can’t have a little taste?” He teases, waving his arm closer, and Hawks feels like he’s going to explode. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Hawks says through gritted teeth.

“I’d turn you into fried chicken if you hurt me,” Dabi huffs matter-of-factly. “Nothing wrong with a little consensual blood play. C’mon. Live a little. You can betray those bastards…for me .” 

Dabi holds his arm out toward the Pro Hero once more, watching him wrestle with his inner demons and instincts. Sure, it might be a little unconventional, but Dabi was anything but conventional. If having him lap at his blood was enough for Hawks to disobey the HPSC, it was enough for Dabi. It was part of the sick thrill of corrupting his new toy. 

A few moments of silence pass…and then…the tension snaps. Hawks grabs the villain’s hand, breathing hard and eyes locked on his target. Dabi flinches at the sudden movement, the thought passing through his head that this might have been a terrible idea…until Hawks begins gently kissing up his hand. Dabi’s expression softens. The winged Pro’s lips travel up Dabi’s wrist, the kisses growing slower and more intentional as it gets to the trail of blood leading to the wound. Dabi inhales sharply when Hawks moans against his skin, his tongue lapping at the dried blood until his scarred skin is spotless, leading to the open slit of skin. Dabi gently bites his bottom lip, swallowing the urge to sigh. He’s much more into this than he thought he’d be. Right before Hawks can reach the gash, Dabi pulls his arm away, making the hero whimper and practically crumble into the ground. Dabi clicks his tongue, his lips curling into a shit-eating grin. 

“Let’s move this to the bed.”

…

…

Dabi shudders as he presses inside Hawks, positioning his forearm beside Hawks’ head. The hero promptly latches on, moaning like a bitch in heat as he suckles the wound, licking it clean. Hawks never slashes. He never chews. He simply traces his tongue in the wound, indulging in the taste of Dabi’s blood. He doesn’t want to hurt him, and this…this is enough. It’s enough to satiate the instinctual drive within him that the HPSC spent years locking down and hiding away. Hawks simply stares up at Dabi, eyes wide yet predatory as he flicks his tongue. Dabi, whose nerves have long been fried, can’t feel the obvious pain. It’s not visceral enough…if anything, it just tickles. Whatever it’s making him feel, part of it is arousal. Hawks has never stared at him this way before. No one has. It makes him feel wanted…no… needed .

“Fuck, baby,” Dabi groans, gently rocking his hips as he ruts up into Hawks. The hero doesn’t even flinch, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continues to lap at Dabi’s injury.

“Taste so good, Dabs,” Hawks slurs, pulling back to cry out when Dabi hits the right spot deep inside. The tips of his fangs gently press into Dabi’s wrist, biting tenderly to leave an impression in his flesh as drool dips down his chin. Dabi pants, steam rising from his body as his Quirk sets into overdrive with his emotions, threatening to burst free. Dabi doesn’t know how Hawks hasn’t come all over his own stomach yet; he’s never seen the Pro this goddamn hard before. Hawks’ cock bounces idly, untouched, somewhere between red and purple, stiff and covered in precome. Hawks groans, drunk on pleasure as he repeats Dabi’s name over and over. He’s never felt such a euphoric high before…one that the Commission would surely disapprove of. They could go to hell. In this moment…his walls are down…his blood is boiling…he’s in heaven . The taste of Dabi is potent on his tongue, filling his lungs, his mind, and his soul. It’s so toxically intoxicating and overwhelming…he’s obsessed . 

“Gonna come,” Hawks whines pathetically, stuttering as he stares up at his lover, focusing on the ecstasy pumping through his body. Soft “ ah~ah~ah’s ” trickle down from Keigo’s lips as he tenses up, and Dabi fucks him through his orgasm as come spatters across his abdomen. 

“ Shit ,” Dabi moans, his gravelly voice leveling off in an uncharacteristically high pitch as he paints Hawks’ insides white, hips stilling only when his balls are empty. 

Hawks and Dabi stare at each other, panting as the smell of sex sifts through the air. The villain sees the crimson smeared across the hero’s mouth, tainting his sun-kissed skin. It’s such a sadistically beautiful display, cheeks flushed and eyelids heavy. Dabi bends down, tasting his own blood on the hero’s lips as he passionately kisses him. Hawks groans, hands rising up to rest at the back of Dabi’s neck as he deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue into his mouth. Dabi’s gash throbs, the dull pain suddenly becoming very visceral in the afterglow. He’s definitely going to need to clean it up. Hawks disconnects their lips, pulling back and admiring his lover looming over him. 

“You’re too good to me,” Dabi mumbles, shaking his head as he cups the side of Hawks’ face, rubbing his thumb along his cheek. 

“Think I came so hard I blacked out for a bit,” Hawks chuckles, letting the waves of the afterglow wash over him.

“Listen. I still need that medkit,” Dabi huffs, and Hawks grins, his bloodthirst temporarily satiated. 

“I'm good now. Let’s get you patched up.”

[alexdelray1]

Mizu tells you to hide from confrontation from a singular or group of adversaries. You, peaking though a hole in the wall see Mizu struggling, but soon coming out on top. You were so anxious that you confess your feelings.

Mizu x Gn! Reader!

Ordered by: Anonymous.

Warnings! Blood, death, murder, lesbians or hetero idk I'm new to this, english isn't my first language!

-Mizu... I was looking for you... Where were you th-- I couldn't finish the sentence. Mizu took my hand and crouched down, forcing me to do the same.

-Quiet.- he said, covering my mouth and started listening to the uninvited guests.

After a moment, he stood up and started heading towards the room off to the side. I wanted to go with him, but he quickly put his hand on my shoulder and held his finger to my lips. I was afraid something would happen to him, but I wasn't a great warrior myself, just a doctor.

I stayed and he went on to the room next to us. Suddenly I heard screams in the next room. I wanted to know what was going on and I saw that there was a small hole in the wall through which I could see what was going on.

Mizu was probably always great at what he did, but now he wasn't good at it. There will simply always be someone who is better than you at something you do.

My friend fell to the floor and probably lost consciousness after killing 24 people and still had two left. One of his opponents raised his katana above him and was about to aim it at his neck. No... I won't allow this to end...

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - I shouted with all my strength to get their attention and at the same time so that Mizu could wake up.

My plan worked and the opponents looked at the wall I was behind. Mizu woke up and in half a second he killed two enemies with his sword and got up. He left the room and turned to me. He saw me already standing next to him with a serious expression on my face.

-Is that the end for today? - I asked him and he smiled slightly and looked the other way.

-For me, yes, but I think that you will still have some work for today. - he said, fainted and fell into my arms.

-Let it be.- I muttered under my breath. I took him and started to head towards the exit.

When I came out I saw everything covered in snow. Fortunately, the fight was on the outskirts of the city and at that time most were asleep and the minority paid no attention to us. I guess they are used to barbarism and other bloody events.

I quickly entered the forest, looking for the hot springs we had found earlier.

After about five minutes I saw the place I was looking for. I placed Mizu on the grass next to the hot springs and began to undress him. After all, it won't be the first or last time I will see a man's penis for medical reasons.

I took off his hat first, then his glasses, and let his hair down. Strange, he looks a bit like a woman. I took off his cape and yukata. He had terrible bandages on his chest. Does he want to suffocate or something? I took them off and saw... breasts? Wait no. Maybe it's some kind of disease? Wait. I looked at his 'shorts' (underwear, panties) and didn't notice a bulge.

-Maybe nature didn't give him a big penis...- I muttered to myself and took off his shorts. Instead of a small penis, I saw a vagina.

-Oh, dick. Well, actually no.- I said with surprise. So she is one of those women who hide their gender to have a better life. A smart move. I removed the weights from her hands and legs. I covered her with a coat. I took some water in my hands from the hot spring and started washing her face. It was obvious that she hadn't washed for a while and I didn't want anything getting into her wounds.

I washed her entire body and started bandaging her smaller and larger wounds. When I finished, I dressed her and covered her with my coat again. I was cold too, so I hugged her and fell asleep too.

Time skip.

I woke up and saw that I was alone, covered with a cloak. I sat up and looked around for Mizu. I noticed her sitting on a rock.

-Good morning, Mizu. How was your night? And I'm sorry for getting close to you. It was a bit cold. - I said and she opened her eyes.

-You saw who I am. Why did you stay? - she asked calmly.

-Why wouldn't I stay?- I answered the question with a question.

-I lied and not every woman wants to be saved by a woman.- she said and looked away.

-You know, I don't see any difference. It doesn't matter whether you are a woman or a man, I still... love you... - I replied and Mizu turned her wide-eyed gaze to me. She came and crouched down to me.

-So you promise to love me even when I will pretend to be a man? - she asked and grabbed my hands.

-I promise, even if by some miracle you're two at the same time.- I promised and smiled. Mizu kissed me and fell on two knees. I grabbed her cheek and moved closer to get more of the kiss, which almost made my coat fall off me, but Mizu grabbed it and pulled it over us.

The end.

[twistmusings]

Can i request leona, azul, jade, malleus, and jamil reacting to someone trying to hit on their s/o? Yay tension lmao. Also, happy holidays!! Love your stuff ❤

Happy holidays! Thank you so much!!

How would these five react to someone else hitting on their significant other?

TW: Emetophobia warning (Jamil's part, nondescript), jealousy, Octavinelle implied to do illegal shit (as per usual).

Note: Their partners do not reciprocate the flirting here, and these also assumes that they have never discussed having open or poly relationships with their partners in the past.

Leona Kingscholar

Well he isn't going to react well that's for sure! Leona is pretty territorial when it comes to the people he cares about without even realizing he is, but especially so when it comes to his partner. Now, it would be a different story if his partner would have approached them and maybe they had talked about it beforehand, but that's not what happened and it pisses him off.

And if his partner doesn't want to be hit on or is uncomfortable because of them? There will be hell to pay. If you're going to disrespect him, you had damn well better respect the person he loves if nothing else.

He immediately gets into their personal space and put himself between the person trying to hit on them and his partner and uses his height to his full advantage. If his partner looks closer, they can probably see his tail bristling too.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother before I make you regret waking up this morning." Leona's voice is cold, and there's the low rumble of a growl from deep in his chest . He scowls at the intruder, lip curling in distaste.

They shrink back, apparently not expecting him to step in. Leona without looking behind him, reaches a hand behind him to where they are, brushing his knuckles against them gently so that they know that the anger isn't directed at them. They didn't do anything wrong.

Azul Ashengrotto

So long as his partner doesn't flirt back then the situation will be fine. Azul is too level-headed to jump to pure rage at someone flirting with his partner, and there was probably a misunderstanding somewhere that lead them to think that they were single.

More than likely things would be just fine... so long as Jade and Floyd aren't there. While Azul is the sort of person who takes an indirect approach, those two would be more than a little likely to go to bat for his honor without his prompting.

It's fine... ah, that's... como se dice a fucking lie. Azul would be furious, and all the more so if it makes his partner uncomfortable. If neither of his two right-hand-men are there at the time, he will step in and make sure his partner is okay and that they are aware they accounted for... and then then will be hell to pay later after Azul calls in a few favors.

"Ah, there you are, dearest." Azul says it loud and clear, enough to startle both of them. He will offer his hand to his partner, smiling at them warmly. "Could you come with me for a moment? I would like to get your opinion on a few centerpieces I'm considering."

And then, when they get close, he will link their arms, fingers curling around their bicep fondly as they do.

And, perhaps, as he and his love walk away from their uninvited guest, he may just throw a rather cruel smile their direction, knowing that his revenge is soon at hand.

Jade Leech

Jade isn't nearly so patient as Azul is. The moment he sees someone else is hitting on his partner, it upsets him. Not that anyone would be able to guess that with the carefully monitored expression on his face, but to his partner it's probably exceptionally clear that he's angry.

He slides right into their conversation like he belongs there. After all, they had enough nerve to step on his toes, didn't they? So why shouldn't he? His lovely partner is spoken for, and they certainly haven't discussed adding anyone, so to him this is a threat to someone he holds very, very dear to him.

He smiles a little wider than usual, just to be extra sure to show the sharp points of his teeth so that they're well aware that should they do something stupid and try to fight him they're outmatched in size and natural weaponry.

"A friend of yours dear?" He said, giving his partner a quick glance to see their response. It takes little more than a shake of their head for him to immediately know how to proceed. "Oh, I see. How kind of you to strike up a conversation then."

Jade perches his chin on his knuckle, eyes narrowing and a wide grin splitting his face, transforming his usually gentlemanly face into a perfect visage of the predatory animal he really is. It's just a quick flash, but it's deeply threatening.

"It truly is a shame, then, that we should be needing to get along on our way, dear." He places a gentle but firm hand at the dip of their back. "Come along, now."

Jamil Viper

Jamil is normally pretty good at keeping his anger and frustration under wraps, but I think that given everything he's been through that seeing his partner being chatted up by someone they've never met might just be the thing to make him snap.

Jamil is... well, a schemer. It's what he does. Especially if the other makes his partner uncomfortable. He's not the kind of person who forgets, nor is he the sort to forgive easily. He'll be sure to thoroughly think out the best plan of action after he gets his partner away from them.

Jamil is glad that his partner seems to be in better spirits after having had some time to themselves away from the interloper who'd been pestering them this evening. They're at a table with friends-- ones that Jamil trusts-- so he has no worries about an encore performance as he stands.

"I'm going to take a quick trip to the bathroom, I promise I'll be right back." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against their temple.

"Don't take too long, food should be coming soon." Jamil smiles, smoothing a hair through their hair softly.

"I know. I'll make it fast."

He enters the bathroom and makes quick work of doing what he needs to, and as he's washing his hands, he hears the slam of the door behind him. He glances into the mirror with just enough time to see the unknown flirt from earlier scamper into the restroom. It's barely a moment before there's a rather painful sounding retch, and Jamil smiles at his own reflection rather smugly.

Syrup of ipecac is good for more than just emergency poison treatment. He says a silent thank you to Kalim for helping him to be prepared for a moment just like this.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus isn't angry perse. It is a pretty understandable mistake-- most people weren't aware that they were dating as of yet because of his status as prince. Now that doesn't mean that he's not upset. He definitely steps in to interrupt even if he can't exactly out their relationship just yet, though.

It starts to storm. Violently. Which is weird because the weather reports said it should be clear. And if it just so happens that the thunder claps whenever the intrusive flirt opens their mouth, that's just a coincidence. He swears.

He is not pouting. (He is. He's quite grumpy about this whole situation.)

The moment his partner shows even the slightest sign of being uncomfortable with the other's presence, he's sweeping them off to do whatever other thing he can find to do.

"Child of man, shall we dance?" He says it abruptly, smiling at them in a manner that looks just a touch forced.

"Oh? Sure." They reply, honestly a little surprised at Malleus being so forward, but there is no hesitation at all as he takes their hand in his own and guides them away from the conversation, shooting a very visibly cruel grin over his shoulder toward the suitor whom he'd swept the rug out from under. They gape after the two of them, and Malleus can't help the cruel seed of joy that brings him.

"Have you ever ballroom danced? I can show you the steps if you'd like." He chatters, though his emotions show in the tense line of his shoulders. Truly, he'd like nothing more than to sweep them away to his room and into his arms until the both of them forget this little social faux pas. He, quietly, promises himself that as soon as he is able, he will proclaim to the world who his beloved is. He would truly like to see who would be brave enough to flirt with them in front of his face then.

[under-the-aspen-tree]

A Moth To You (Chapter 4 - Spiders and Snakes) Aegon II Targaryen x (Bastard Velaryon) Reader

Series Summary: After a year travelling abroad, you have been called home to Kingslanding by your mother, Rhaenyra. Turns out your family has grown in your time apart. Word Count: 2.8k

Your mind was swirled with wine by the time you got back to your apartments, hot and exhausted. Your meal had taken three courses, and you were unable to leave until Alicent deemed it so. The dinner was not long by any means, but you were tired, embarrassed, and entirely furious by the time you stormed out. Jace had offered you his guidance to your chambers, but you had brushed him off politely, telling him you would like a moment of solitude. It seemed he more than understood, likely having needed to cool down himself.

You were decisively less gentle with your handmaidens when they came rushing to your doors to unpin your hair and prepare you for bed. 

"I can do both just fine, thank you," You had told them through gritted teeth. You couldn't be absolutely certain, but you had a notion that they had dressed you purposefully. You had given the girls full reigns over your appearance tonight, worrying your time away from court had you at a disadvantage with the trends of Westeros. Green was a clear sign across the Seven Kingdoms; War with Oldtown. Regardless of their disposition, whether the decision had been biased or not, you did not trust the girls in your service any longer. You had managed just fine in your time away, and you would continue to do so.

As soon as you entered your rooms, you tore the retched dress off and stood in only your undergarments for a while, drinking wine from a chalice left in your chambers in your absence. The embers had long gone out, and Kingslanding's nights neft a cool chill in the air, but your own shame and fury warmed you from the inside out. When you looked upon yourself in the mirror, you saw a woman half mad, with wild eyes and red cheeks in her nakedness.

It should have shaken you, how much a single night in Westeros had undone you. During your year away you had been carefree and gentle, always a laugh away from delighted. Now, after a single night in these lands, you were furious and ashamed. You could not leave the night as it was.

Perhaps it was how much you had to drink, though you felt tipsy more than you did drunk, but you made quick work of finding a dress from your wardrobe; silver as the moon, and cool against your skin. You left your hair pinned and slipped from your chambers during the hour of the bat, blood cold as ice and heart hammering against your chest. You would put this to right, damned be your manners.

The hallways of the Red Keep were silent as a mouse, only the distant twitters of mice reaching your ears. The occasional guard roamed past your vision, but you paid them no heed. You were well within your rights to walk these walls, you were a Princess, no matter how long you had spent in distant lands.

You came to his chamber doors quicker than imagined, having walked there without so much as a second thought given to directions. Though your brain was slightly muddled by time and drink, your bones knew where to go, and your legs where to take them. With no guards in view, you resigned yourself to knocking, knowing that the men of the realm often kept weaponry in their possession, and would not take kindly to an uninvited guest at such an hour.

Aegon came to the door quickly, hair dishevelled and a scowl upon his face at being disturbed, but it disappeared upon meeting your eyes. His expression melted into one of confusion, then of cockiness as his violet eyes travelled from your own to the silver of your dress swaying in the breeze from the windows. Saying not a word, still drinking in your appearance, he opened the door.

You had never been inside the Prince's chambers, only to stand beside them in your youth, though you were certain they were only this tidy due to the help of a serving girl. The bed was a pristine white and gold, his curtains not yet drawn. Beside them stood a lavish table of deep oak, two plush chairs, and a vase of wine between them. The fire was but a pit of embers; It seemed that Aegon, too, preferred the cold tonight.

You could scarcely keep your words within, whirling before Aegon had even gotten the door closed, looking up at him with glimmering ashes in your eyes.

"I have not been back a day and you are already conducting yourself in such a manner." Your voice was a snarl, completely unlike that which you spoke at the table, a manner entirely unladylike. If Aegon was shocked at your change in tone, he did not show it, sneering at you as he cocked his head.

"And what manner would that be?" He drawled, shifting as strands of silver swept across his eyes. A pale hand came up to push them back. His hair had defied the oils he had used to keep it at bay, and wavy locks layered about his face.

"A vile one." Your voice was a low hiss, spitting out the words with fire on your tongue. Aegon grinned, flashing pearly white teeth, though the cracks in his lips were stained an Arbour red.

"Your family has welcomed you to Kingslanding, must I share in the same festivities?"

"No, I would even prefer if you didn't," Your words were scalding, and you were brought into an even greater fury as Aegon crossed past you slowly. His shirt was unbuttoned by a few notches, his belt discarded beside the bed. "But to conduct yourself in such a shameful manner, to-to dishonour my brothers and I-"

"Dishonour you?" Aegon turned for a moment, looming above you, looking down from those lilac eyes with a near-sarcastic smile gracing his lips. "Why, Princess, I only spoke the truth."

Your fingers trembled from where you held them at your sides, blood running cold as ice at his words. Your vision was as red as the glimmering ashes in his heath, your words pure steel. "You are a blasphemy to the face of the Targaryen name."

"As are you."

His own voice was equally cold, drained of the amusement still held beneath his eyes. His hand now played upon his chalice, fingers skirting the rim of the silver cup. "Do not forget yourself in this matter, (Y/N), your ferocity only proves it." You stepped after him, furious at his attempts at being casual at such a time. "You are truly your father's daughter."

His lips moved to the syllables, but you heard only one. Bastard. You had skirted the words for a year, been adored for a month; Lords and Ladies had not dared to utter it in your presence. The time spent had left you proud and quick to tempter. Heat rose up your neck, and you understood suddenly why Luke had lifted a blade against Aemond all those years ago in Driftmark.

"I dare you to say that again." There was pure fire in your eyes now as you spoke. The fire of the Targaryens and the brutal, crashing waves of the Velaryons. You could not have it said otherwise. You were a Valyrian pure, Blood of The Dragon, a beast in disguise. 

"A year apart and you are still so much like your brothers." Aegon laughed, throwing himself back into his chair as he pulled his chalice to his lips, skirting the cold edge along soft flesh. The action gave you goosebumps, as though you were intruding upon a tender moment. You were reminded strangely of the Valyrian traditions, of slicing open the mouth with Dragonstone and sharing your blood with another, "A shame truly. I meant what I said you to this evening, green really is your colour."

It had left you tired, this meeting, this bizarre likeness brought to mind. Suddenly, you were not sure why you stood here, forcing an argument when you could have gone to bed and dwelled on your thoughts. Perhaps his cruel words had sobered you.

"Why do you hate me so?" You finally mustered, weaker than you meant to be. Aegon downed his cup and went to refill it, ignoring your moment of weakness and, in doing so, the dragon was awoken

once more. This hot and cold, this ridiculous game of chess, left you confused and hurt and angry to your very core. In a second of thoughtlessness, of pride, you staggered forward and ripped the cup from his hand, relishing in the look of pure shock on his face as cool wine slipped down your fingers. Finally, an emotion beyond arrogance or mindless cruelty. 

It was not long you held your victory though, for Aegon's face morphed from shock to complete fury in a blink. You had never seen that look on his face but for once, and even then it was not so terrifying. His lilac eyes melted into cold, sharp steel as he threw his hand against the table, standing so quickly you stumbled back. His hands came down hard upon your shoulder and wrist, your vision blurring as he spun you with strength you did not perceive him to have. The chalice fell tumbling from your grip as your arm hit the wall, stinging ferociously as the silver twanged against the floor. Wine exploded from the cup, staining the silver of your gown and the black of his boots as it spilt dark red against the stone ground.

"I don't hate you, Princess." 

Aegon's words were seething and you were suddenly terrified. You had not realised how much he had grown until now. A year ago his growth spurt had not yet hit, and you rejoiced in the opportunity to look down at the Prince. Now, he utterly devoured you. His frame was looming, his face nearly pressed against yours as he glared down with nothing but distaste. You tried to cower further into the wall, but the cold, jagged stone was relentless against your back.

"I abhor you."

His grip was crushing against your bones and you were doing all that you could not to yelp in pain. His arms were shaking with the force he used to keep you in place, or perhaps his anger, but his face was utterly calm. You had jested in days past that Aegon and his brother were nothing but green boys, drunk on power and prestige, but this man was utterly terrifying. Tears danced in your eyes, emotions swirling in your chest and stomach and throat; loathing, disgrace, humiliation, fear. With the last of your strength, you pushed back with all your might, though you knew it was not your own strength, but the Prince relenting in his grip, that had him stumbling back. 

Your steps were so quick you were almost in a run by the time you hit the door, palms slamming into the wood as you did your best to disguise your tears. Aegon did not move from his place, content with the distance you put between you both, but picked up his fallen cup and sat back down against his chair, refilling his wine. You could not leave like this, disgraced from his chambers as he sat cooly with his drinks. You said the first thing that came to mind.

"It would do you well to remember whose mother and brother are heirs to the iron throne." Your voice betrayed your previous terror, still shaking and jumping with the notch in your throat. It burned hot against your flesh.

"Go back to Pentos, Princess. It suits you better." You slammed the door before he could do so much as look at you, brushing angry tears from your cheeks as your wet gown dragged against the floor.

An hour had passed and you had still not returned to your chambers, having found a quiet place in the Red Keep. Your skin burned against the cold of the night, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, and yet you did not seek rest. Your heart had not yet calmed, still beating ferociously within your chest as you started at the grounds in your silence. It was peaceful here, at this hour, deep and blue and quiet. It left you to your thoughts and, if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine a colder night in Pentos. Even in the moonlight, it was still warm there, but it stilled your mind to pretend for a moment. You had wandered to halls for a while, hoping the walk would leave you time to debate your thoughts, but the endless stream of guards had you seeking solitude. So now you stood, overlooking a balcony that beheld the gardens on a floor that housed nobody, wishing you were anybody but yourself.

"I trust you are enjoying your time spent back here." You did not hear the man approaching, but Daemon's voice was as cold as the night and relieving to your ponderous mind.

Your voice was scratchy from a while of crying, and you had to cough to sound somewhat like yourself, refusing to look his way lest he see the red that marked your eyes. "As well as I can be."

"Yes, it really is a shit hole, isn't it?" His words startled you into a giggle, ever a reprieve in the misery of Kingslanding. You had forgotten his rash manners at court. It was what you liked about Daemon, his unwillingness to exert himself for others, to abide by the rules. He was utterly himself and your mother had always loved him for it. 

You were both quiet for a moment, enjoying the peace of this tranquil spot you had found, before you ignored your years of lessons in etiquette for a second time this night, speaking from your own heart. Perhaps this year apart had made you selfish.

"If tensions are so high, why not leave as mother did after Joffreys birth?" You questioned, turning to look at him. His white gold hair blew in the gentle breeze of the gardens and you noticed a cup gleaming in the moonlight in his hand. He looked down, contemplating for a moment, before speaking.

"The Kingdom is too unstable. If we were to abandon our positions in Kingslanding your mother's birthright could slip through the cracks."

You nodded, sighing through your nose as you bit the corner of the cheek, wishing for a cup of your own. "By cracks you mean the queen," You assumed. Daemon hummed in response, swirling his wine for a moment before throwing it down into the darkness below you. 'A waste,' you thought, bitterly.

"You're a smart girl." He said, finally turning to look at you through eyes that were almost an icy blue, if not for the flecks of Valyrian purple. "You have managed to wrap the seven kingdoms around your finger, you have friends in the right places- more so than your mother, and more than our benevolent Queen." He said the title with a sneer, rolling his shoulders as he stepped away from the balcony. "Be weary, Princess. You wield more power than you know."

You scrunched your nose at the thought, thinking of the weight behind his words. He most likely spoke of you as a bargaining chip, to be married off at your mother's or the king's will to unite the Targaryens with one house or another. You knew the day had awaited you, but when you thought of marriage you imagined the steel ferocity of Cregan Stark, or the soft eyes of Illestrio, miles away in Pentos. 

"Spiders and snakes lay in wait around us, tread lightly," Daemon confused you now, eliciting a frown. It was the second time this eve you had thought of that phrase. "They will bite at your ankles at the first opportunity."

He made a point of looking down at your skirts, where the wine had dried into a running red stain at the hem of your dress, and your cheeks flushed. He gave you no time to defend yourself though, and it seemed he did not expect it of you, as he walked into the darkness of the corridors that brought him back to his chambers. 

You leaned back against the balcony for a moment, but the silence suddenly felt lonely without his presence, and your spine stung against the cold stone where Aegon's jagged walls had bitten into your flesh only an hour ago. When you left to return to your chambers and threw your silver dress to the floor to join the green, you could not see the wine any longer. It was the thought of blood on your silks that had you shivering naked in your bed, the blood that came with a snake's poisoned bite.

[amandacanwrite]

Ohhh, can I play? I just ate one of these so the word is peaches 🍑 x

Alright -cracks knuckes- MINORS DNI with the following snippet. This is a little bit from the beginning of my Peaky Blinders meets Fae Court Politics book called Of Foxes and Follies.

Context: Rheannon is a girl with a mountain of debt owed to one of the most notorious street gang bosses, The Half-Blind Barber. She is the type to steal from Peter to pay Paul, sneaking into soirees uninvited and stealing from guests who are too tipsy to notice when a necklace is slipped off their neck, or an earring is nabbed off their table.

Only when she crashes a party hosted by a notorious gangster known as The Magpie she is quickly caught and invited to his parlor for a game of cards. The wager? If she wins, he gets his priceless timepiece, if he wins, he gets a dance.

This scene takes place shortly after his winning hand, but Rheannon isn't ready to give up her prize quite yet. Hope you enjoy!!

...But I also couldn’t deny the enticing nature of him, even if he would only use me and throw me away, I couldn’t deny the pull he had over me.   

We went into the next series of steps at the music picked up in tempo and Cilean spun me again. It was all going just fine; just as easy as it had been before, when my shoe caught something slick on the floor and I lost my footing.   

Cilean didn’t miss a beat, he quickly caught me and kept me from humiliating myself by falling back on my own arse. I looked back to where I’d slipped as he took me out of the path of the other dancers and balked at what I saw.   

I’d expected a discarded hors d’oeuvre, or perhaps a misplaced handkerchief. Instead, what I saw was something entirely shocking.   

It was a pool of blood, red as spider lilies against the ivory marble floors.   

Or at least it had been when I caught the slickness of it with my foot, now it appeared as a streaking, pink mess on the white tile of the floor. I inhaled to ask about it, but Cilean was already leading me away from the dance floor.   

“Careful, darling,” he said. “Should we take a step outside? It’s getting a little stuffy in here, isn’t it?”  

“S-sure,” I said. “W-wait, hold on a minute.”  

“You want another dance?” he asked, looking at me, his brows raised.   

“Th--What I just saw on the floor. That was blood,” I said. “I slipped in someone else’s blood.”  

“You really do need some air,” he said, smirking back at me. “Why would there be blood on the dance floor?”  

“Hell if I should know, but I know what I saw,” I said.   

“You saw some red liquid on the floor? Do you know how many casks of wine I keep in my cellar, Miss Todd?” he asked. “I promise you it wasn’t blood.”  

I pressed my mouth and looked back at the floor again as he led me away, but whatever mess I’d slipped in was either hastily cleaned up or blocked from my view by the dozens of spinning dancers on the floor. I wanted to argue with him more, but I worried I truly was wrong about what I’d seen. I didn’t want to appear as if I was delusional.   

So, I followed, feeling a bit uneasy about the strangeness of things I’d seen since I’d gotten here. How did I wind up at the card table of The Magpie himself? How was I now frolicking with him through his hallways.  

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I asked.   

“Why would you want for me to ruin the surprise?”  

“I’m not entirely sure a surprise from you would be something I’d like to willingly walk into,” I said.   

“A little late to be worried, isn’t it?” he asked.   

“Touche,” I said as I let myself get carried away in his undertow.  

Finally, he came to a nondescript door, a plain wooden one with hardly any embellishments of note, aside from an ornate handle attached to twine—a servant’s bell.  

“Are you taking me to the servant’s quarters?” I asked.   

“Easiest way to get out of doors,” he said looking back at me. “Do you have some sort of objection to taking the back way?”  

“Only if it’s because you mean to hide me from someone,” I snipped. “Perhaps you didn’t invite me and perhaps I am not the kind of girl you like to cavort with, but I have enough stubborn pride to refuse the indignity of sneaking around like some kind of dirty little secret.”  

He pushed the door open and led me into the corridor. It was dark and smelled of food. I could only imagine it was from all of the dishes that had been carried through the small, poorly ventilated space. He took a few more steps before I dug in my heels and brought us to a stop.   

I had expected him to sigh, to gripe about me being a prude or an annoyance. To try and shame me for thinking that someone like me could ever think that someone as wealthy and handsome as he was could see me as anything more than a spirited tryst in the stables. I could handle it, I was ready to give him an earful of exactly what I thought about that.   

But he didn’t sigh and he didn’t gripe. He didn’t yank his hand away to leave me and sulk. No, he did quite the opposite. I could see the outline of him only faintly in the dark corridor as he crowded me. He stepped into my space so quickly that I had no choice but to give way, backing one step, then another. As soon as my back brushed against the wallpaper, his hands were on me.   

My waist, my thigh, my back. My heart leapt into my throat, and I heard my own shocked gasp fall out of my mouth. Finally, he cupped the side of my face in his hand. It still smelled of tobacco from his pipe, I could smell his sweat and how it mingled with the fragrance of his aftershave and the pleasant earthiness of whatever cologne he was wearing.   

His nose brushed along the edge of mine and I hitched in a shaky breath.   

“Do you think, sweet Rheanon, that I would let anyone dare make me feel ashamed in my endeavors with a woman?” he asked.   

Somehow, his voice had dropped even lower than his already natural baritone. His voice rumbled in his chest like rolling thunder, and just like real thunder, I could feel the weight of that sound in the very marrow of my bones.   

“Is there a problem with wanting a bit of privacy?” he continued, his warm breath cloying, brushing across my lips. “Then again, maybe that’s something you like, hm?”  

“Like?” I asked, my head fuzzy. “What do I like?”  

“Do you like the risk of getting caught? Do you like the rush of knowing that any moment now, my butler could walk through that door—or one of the chambermaids—or one of my guests. Does your heart race when you think of what they’ll see as the light spills into the hallway?”  

He hefted me up into his arms with such speed that I shouted out in surprise. He pressed me against the wall, every line of his chest and abdomen melding with my own. When the skirt of my gown got in his way, he pushed it up so that it bunched and bustled around my hips, only the thin fabric of my shift and my undergarments remaining between us.    

One of his fingers snagged the strap of my garter belt and tugged, pressing the fabric of my stockings against my inner thigh.   

“What will they think when they see me like this, Rheannon?” He asked as his hand coursed up the curve of my thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “With your beautiful thighs wrapped around my waist, with my hand curved around this...”  

He cupped the swell of my backside before kneading wantonly, “...this perfect peach of an ass you have?”  

“Y-you’ve...you’re misinterpreting--” I mumbled. “It’s not that I’m some kind of...exhibitionist.”  

“Am I?” he asked. “Then why are you so breathless, lass?”  

Cruel. He was a cruel and sadistic man to subject me to this. He was a cat playing with his food. It was enough to make me want to box his ears.   

“Are you just going to torture me and make me feel like a deviant, or are you going to shut up and kiss me?” I said, sounding far less angry than I’d been trying for.   

“I’m not sure—did you leave your manners somewhere?” he asked, an edge coming to his smile that I could see even in the dark. “Is that how you ask for something that you want?”  

I couldn’t tell if I was flustered or furious. He truly wanted to play with me.   

“Oh, you really didn’t like that, did you?” he asked.   

“Does being patronizing usually work for you?” I said.   

“Lass, I don’t typically have to work for anything when it comes to my romantic exploits,” he said. “Usually women and men alike are clamoring for my attention.”  

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said. “If you wanted an ass pat, you should have asked one of your invitees to join you.”  

“I’m not disappointed,” he said, smoothing his hand up the front of me, brushing over my breast before grasping my chin in a firm hand. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in ages.”  

Then, despite my refusal to beg and my prickly griping, Cilean closed the distance between us and kissed me.   

I had been expecting his mouth to be hard on mine with the sort of quiet command that rolled off of him in waves. I’d expected a clash of tongue and teeth, I’d expected biting and mis-matched trajectories.   

What I got instead was something entirely different.   

His hand was tight where he grasped my chin, but his lips were feather soft as they closed on mine. It was hard to describe how it made me feel. The brush of his lips was so sweet and light that it pulled me in, the tender brush a siren’s song seducing me.   

My eyes fluttered closed as I surrendered to it, his hand on my chin releasing its grasp before ghosting gently up the curve of my jaw and slipping into my hair.   

The kiss ended, but he didn’t part from me. He still held me against the wall without a single hint of discomfort or exertion, our noses still touched. I opened my eyes and found him watching me.   

This close, I could see the beautiful curve of his long lashes backlit by some distant moonglow deeper in the servant’s quarters. His eyes flickered as they stared into mine, then dropped to my lips.   

“What is it?” I asked in a whisper.   

His eyes met mine again, dark and desirous. There was something else in that stare, some emotion I couldn’t identify. I tried to read it, but before I could discern anything he closed that small distance and kissed me again. His mouth seized my lower lip, a faint suction pulling it between his teeth that only barely brushed against the tender flesh there. His tongue swept in deftly, teasing the opening of my mouth and asking to be invited within.   

The skin on the back of my neck blazed and burned like I had a fever. His thumb brushed down the side of my neck in a sloping line, pressing against my pulse point. He huffed a sound of amusement through his nose and I knew he could feel my heart hammering like a hare’s in my neck.   

How embarrassing. He’d barely started to kiss me and I was already as wound up as a virgin the first time she pinked her knees with her sweetheart. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing to me—well enough that he felt satisfied to smile into the kiss as he deepened it—well enough that he didn’t even need to say anything to make me feel plenty self-conscious about it.   

His tongue, like the rest of his mouth, was unintrusive in its pursuit of mine. I was used to Eian and the other boys; the clumsy tangle of tongues that tasted of stale ale and hastily hand-rolled cigarettes, the hurried and frantic nature of their desire as they pawed at me.   

Cilean kissed me like a connoisseur enjoyed a fine vintage. He took his time, tasted me slowly, savored me. His full lips were slick and pillow soft, his tongue, despite the smoke and drink he’d been consuming, tasted of summer-ripe berries and honey licked off of sticky fingers. I felt like I was melting in the palms of his hands, like I’d rather die than kiss any other man than this one standing before me.   

I reached out my hand for his chest, wanting desperately to feel his body. I wanted to undress him, to taste more than his mouth, to taste his skin, his sweat, his blood. I wanted to bleed for him. I wanted to give him anything he would have from me. I no longer cared about the strange things I’d seen—the group sex, the blood on the dance floor, his strangely silent minions—I’d do anything if only he would stay close to me.   

I coursed my hand over his chest. He gave a low hum that rumbled through my body.  

I was so pleased to hear that sweet sound come out of him, so happy to make him feel good. I brushed my hand higher, sliding in a trajectory toward his neck where I hoped to twist my fingers in his dark, thick curls.  

But I felt something cold on my skin as I reached the seam of his shirt collar. Cool and metallic. A golden chain.   

My eyes fluttered open and it was as if a spell had been broken. I remembered all at once who I was, why I’d come here, the exact nature of the predicament I was in.   

I’d come here to steal, to settle my debts and move on with my life with my new found freedom. I’d come here to swipe a few worthwhile pieces to pawn them off so I could give the money to The Barber. Sure, I’d played along with Ciliean to this point—with The Magpie. But’d gotten in over my head. I’d let him beat me at cards, let him charm me with a few dances, and now I’d fallen in too deep with him.   

I knew where kissing like this ended up.   

Gods—what had I been thinking? What would Eian think if he came to my flat tomorrow and I wasn’t there. How hurt would he be to know that I’d fallen in bed with another man the very same day I promised to give him a chance to court me.   

There was only one way I could justify something so egregious, and I was in the perfect position to follow through on it.   

I made sure to keep the pace he was setting for us, I made sure to seem as lost in his kiss as I had been mere seconds before, and I got to work.   

If anything, this was going to be easier than the usual conquest. When I pickpocketed, I always had to find some reason to bump into someone, find some reason that my hands wound up on their body. Sometimes it was a spilled glass of wine, other times it was manufactured clumsiness. But I wouldn’t have to do anything like that now. I had more than enough reason to have my hands on him—to even be a little heavy handed.   

The trick to a good pickpocket was sleight of hand and misdirection. It wasn’t enough just to steal from drunkards—even drunks could tell when something was missing if you were too quick and careless with the theft. The key was to make your mark think the watch was still on their wrist, the necklace still around their throat, the earrings still looped in their lobes.   

Gold was heavy so when it came to Cilean. I’d have to find a way to keep the illusion of weight in his coat’s interior pocket as long as I could.  

But I knew he was perceptive. I couldn’t be sloppy, not when he had me pressed against the wall with his hand on my throat. If I was going to steal the pocket watch, I’d need to replace it with something else.   

It was a risky move, but I could only hope that he wouldn’t recognize what I left with him—that I could sneak out of the party as soon as I got the watch and that he’d continue to get so drunk that he wouldn’t even remember this strange little tryst we were engaging in. I reached down with my still-free hand and slipped my brooch out of the sash I was wearing. I was practiced enough with it to do it with one hand and to do it quickly enough that the movement hadn’t been noticed.   

I passed the beetle brooch into my other hand, hiding the swap with a covetous stroke from his stomach to his neck, then back down again where I let my hand pull on the chain, adding tension on it—pulling it taut so that, if there was any difference in weight between my jeweled brooch and the gold watch in his pocket, it could be written off as my hand leaving the chain.   

From there, it was simple. A slip here, a slide there, a little pluck and the watch and chain was in my hand.   

I was suddenly glad for the humiliating racing of my heart earlier, because it was the perfect cover for how my heart was hammering in my chest now. There was nothing like the thrill of a good score, and this one was by far my largest catch.   

I made a gesture like I was trying to reach back against the wall to steady myself and hid the watch down the back of my dress, hooking the chain on the neckline and letting is slide into my corset, already stretched and displaced from all of the dancing and kissing.   

It was a haphazard place to put it, but it would have to do until I could get myself away from The Magpie.   

With my winnings secured, I broke from the kiss and made a good show of panting.  

He cupped my face as I let my head loll and my lashes flutter.   

“Alright, lass?” he asked, his voice husky and warm. “Have I need to grab the smelling salts?”  

“Mmn--” I said, making my voice syrupy and dreamy. “I could use a bit of fresh air.” I gently played with his silky bow tie. “Maybe we could go back into your gardens? Lie down under the stars for a spell? Have a sip of water before we...”  

I bit my lower lip, finding it soft and swollen from kissing. “Carry on? With our diversions?”  

His eyes crinkled with mirth, though his own swollen lips just barely twitched at the corners. He brushed the edge of his nose against mine once more, taking a deep breath in. “You are turning out to be quite diverting, indeed, my little vixen,” he said.   

I giggled, trying to keep my mind clear about me as, even now, the threat of being ensorcelled once more by his enigmatic charm and his skilled lips loomed in front of me. Truth be told, I would have loved to learn what a man who could kiss me breathless could do with the rest of my body; to see what his fingers and his hips could do for me.  

More concerningly than that, was that I craved the opportunity to please him.   

To be called a vixen, his vixen, was almost as intoxicating as the kiss. I wanted to know what he’d say to me while I rocked and ground along the length of his shaft, wanted to watch the adorable tension men always got in their jaw when they were ready to lose all control and spill into me.   

But I couldn’t get distracted. I couldn’t indulge—for plenty of reasons.   

“Well,” he said after a few breaths passed between us. “Let us get you some air and some water, shall we, Darling?”   

[countlessrealities]

@mcltiples sent:

Midnight rolled around making it so that it wasn't Thanksgiving anymore. However, Rick still found it appropriate to portal into the other's hideout. Wobbling in every step that he took, almost tripping over himself. Though, he made his way over to his counterpart. From there, he basically sat down on the other's lap, forehead pressed against forehead.

"Th-There you are," He spoke, obviously drunk off his ass. "I need to tell ya somethin',"

The accent that he concealed usually was out in full force. A side effect from the alcohol in his system and a sign of where he had been all day. If anyone knew him well enough to figure it out.

He curled his fingers against the back of his counterpart's neck, grazing the skin gently with his fingernails, igniting a pleasant abrasion. "Ya know what day it is, so I'm gonna come out right with it, I'm thankful to have met you, I don't care if we started out hatin' each other, yer the best thing that's happened in a while,"

Bright blue eyes were glossed over, tilting his head to the side. In a way that looked as if he were about to kiss his counterpart, but he didn't. Instead, he kept on talking.

"And maybe I like you or somethin', I don't know, I don't give a shit about what I wanna call it right now," He chuckled at that. "But, what I do know is I wanna just drink lots of liquor, put on a movie, and share a tub of ice cream with ya,"

Without a second thought, he pressed his lips softly against the other's ones. A delicate peck. Unlike anything they've ever done before. No heat, no passion. Just simple, loving, and casual.

Then came a soft hum, clearing his throat. "But, you're gonna have to carry me to the couch, I'm too drunk to stand on my own, love~" His accent had somewhat diminished, replaced by his usual tone, mixed with something more lighthearted.

{ To your Weird Rick from my Weird Rick 🤭 // a small confession perhaps ? xD }

Saying that Rick disliked the holidays would have been a gross understatement. He had never understood them, their so-called "spirit". For his younger self, they had always been just another day of misery, torment and anger. He used to force himself to celebrate, or at least to pretend to, because it was what was demanded from his family and later, with Diane, expected.

The moment the choice had been his and his alone, he had decided to never bother with them again. Why should he have? There had never been any happiness or enjoyment for him to be found in festivities. They were all a pretty lie to cover up the horrifying truth. Just as everything else.

From the outside, one couldn't have guessed his despise for them, especially seeing how much fun he had building themed explosives and other kind of weapons so he could use them on each recurrence. You could have easily assumed that it was his fucked up way of celebrating, but instead it was all out of spite.

And that was how he spent his Thanksgiving too that year, ruining it for anyone who was so unlucky to cross his path. Being thankful? For what? To whom? He was the one who made things happen. He pulled all the strings, created all the stages. A god didn't say "thank you", didn't owe shit to anyone.

And yet, at times, he failed at ignoring it. The emptiness, the ache, the ugliness. It made him want to gag and all he could do was drowning it in liquor and destruction.

That was the reason why, when his uninvited guest showed up unexpectedly, Rick wasn't any less drunk that his other self. The only difference was that, even when he was that intoxicated, he still managed not to slip back into his hometown's speech patterns.

The moment he realised who his visitor was, a sharp, mocking smirk opened on his lips as he prepared to great his counterpart with some rude, witty jab. Hopefully something that would have been infuriating enough to get him to fuck off right away. He wasn't in the mood for company. Not even his own.

However, he wasn't given the chance to even start, as he was cut off by suddenly finding himself with his lap full and his forehead trapped against the other's. Confusion exploded inside his dazed mind, causing him to forget everything else. He didn't know what to do, what to think, how to feel.

The only certainty he had was that this was unlike anything that had taken place between the two of them. Everything was different. His counterpart's touch, his body language, the way he moved. The curl of his lips, his expression, the look in his eyes.

He couldn't tell if it was a good or a bad thing and that fact both irked and terrified him.

"What the fuck..." Was all he could muttered before his other self's words silenced him once again.

Hearing that accent in his own voice made his stomach twist with nauseous coldness, especially because it clued him on where his other self had been for a prolonged amount of time. Why would he go back there, to that piece of Hell on Earth?

Why, why, why.

He couldn't fathom a single explanation, a single reason. Or, perhaps, he was too burnt by it all to handle even mere speculation on the subject.

Before his building panic could properly grip at his throat, however, his brain seemed to finally registered what his counterpart was saying, and he found stunned and bewildered once again. This time, though, underneath the confusion, instead of uneasiness and dread, there was something warm smothering him in the softest way.

I'm thankful to have met you. Yer the best thing that's happened in a while.

The soft grazing of those fingers against his scalp weren't helping and Rick found himself stupidly wondering if he should worried about his heart. It was beating so loud, so fast, it felt like it was about to explode out of his chest.

And then came that kiss, so starking different from all the others they had exchange. Gentle instead of vicious, light instead of oppressing, loving instead of violent. No one had ever kissed him like that. No one had ever touched him like that, in any way. It stole his breath away and he couldn't stop himself from clinging to it like a dying man would to his one and last hope.

He was pathetic, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not right now.

"...Yes," was the word that escaped his lips, breathless and far too eager. He didn't even know what exactly he was answering to, just that he wanted everything the other was offering.

Just that he wanted this man.

"I'm really fuckin' drunk too, if I try to carry you, both our asses will end up on the floor," he went on then, voice shaking with laughter. "Like two stupid sacks of stupid potatoes!"

For some reason, that undignified image was hilarious. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the sudden euphoria that had filled him. He couldn't care. He didn't give a fuck. Not when he felt this good.

Despite what he had said, he stumbled on his feet, pulling his counterpart up with him, holding him bridal style. He risked tripping and falling at least four times before he could properly get on his feet, but eventually he managed and starting to stagger towards the living room.

"Labels are for losers. We're gods, love, we don't need 'em," he managed to say, slurring the words out a little more, as he focused on walking. "It's our...thing, it's ours. You want it, I want it...That's all it can be. Whatever we want, whenever, however."

He didn't know if they would make it to their destination, but it wasn't so important. Even if they had ended up sprawled on the floor together, with no movie or ice cream, it would have still been one of his best nights ever.

[enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog]

Chapter 8-

He was fuming as he made his way to the dungeons, Dis and Balin quickly following suit.

"She agreed to be locked in the cell, she is doing no harm." Balin huffed.

"It's a Dire Wolf, Balin." Thorin seethed. "It could swallow the lot of us whole in the matter of mere moments."

As they drew closer to the bigger cells, they heard faint murmurings. Thorin slowed his pace holding his hand up to silence his sister and advisor. He silently crept up to the side of the cell that held the wolf and its master. He peeked around the corner, his eyes widening slightly at the sight before him.

Mistlynn was sitting on the floor, her legs outstretched in front of her with the wolfs head resting upon her lap. Her hands were buried in the white fur of the animal, gently caressing and stroking it while murmuring in a sweet soothing tone words he could not make out.

It was the first time he saw her truly relaxed except for when she was unconscious in the infirmary. No longer aware of his sister and Balin still waiting behind him, he strained to hear what she was whispering to her beast. Just then, he noticed the faint glistening of a tear as it fell down her cheek, Thorin went to take a step, wanting desperately to wipe it from her cheek but stopped himself before she saw and pulled back into the shadows where she could not see him.

"I've made a royal mess of things Luna." She hiccupped as she fought to control her tears. "Your hurt because of me. I had no idea where we were at or where we were going." She paused, sniffing and taking a deep breath.

"I had no right to take you from our home. All because I couldn't face my father and Valinn. Because of my shame." Her hand came up to stroke the wolf's ears, and she shuddered as more tears fell.

"I have been an incomprehensible ass to the King who has given us aid. I've insulted him in the worst imaginable ways and I'm too afraid to even look him in the eyes again. I don't deserve his mercy or forgiveness. I'm frightened about what will be done with us."

Thorin sighed as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall where the cell bars were imbedded. A gentle nudge shifted him, making him open his eyes to see Dis looking over his shoulder with an encouraging look on her face. "Go on." She whispered, nudging him again. He had to place his foot forward to brace himself, and it was enough of a movement for Mistlynn and the wolf to look over at him abruptly in surprise.

Mistlynn's grip in Luna's fur tightened and dread began to fil her stomach. 'Shite.' She cursed to herself. She felt her wet cheeks, she knew it would be obvious to him that she had been crying. She swallowed thickly and quickly wiped her face, hoping her eyes were not as bloodshot as they felt.

Luna was still holding her head up, looking at the imposing dark figure that was slowly approaching the door of the cell. It was apparent that the wolf felt no threat coming from their uninvited guest, and to the shock of her owner she wagged her tail weakly, so that it 'thumped' on the stone floor. And then, to everyone's surprise Luna started to move to stand up. Mistlynn gasped. "Luna no." she admonished softly, trying to soothe her by stroking her neck. Luna ignored her and pushed herself up on her feet, her injured front paw now held in a sling. She started to hop towards the cell bars, her head bowed low as her eyes held the gaze of their visitor.

Thorin watched in shock as the massive, injured wolf approached him. If standing to its full height, the wolf's head would easily be the same height as his. Instead, it approached with its neck lowered as if in submission. The wolf came as far as it could go, its molten gold eyes boring into his. It was unnerving to say the least, but at the same time he felt no fear or threat coming from the animal. Questioning his own sanity, he slowly slipped his hand through the bars, hovering it over the wolf's head. He heard a gasp from Dis and Balin as the wolf raised its head until Thorin's palm was resting between its ears. Thorin slowly ran his fingers thru the beast's hair taking in the softness of her fur.

Mistlynn felt her jaw go slack, her mouth slightly agape in shock. Thorin was gently petting her wolf! And Luna appeared to be enjoying the attention. To see her accept him with unwavering certainty scared her. Thorin cleared his throat before speaking softly. "I see that she…or he… is recovering nicely."

Mistlynn nodded, shocked that he was speaking to her. "Y-yes, yes thank you, she should be good in the next week or two. The healer that saw to her was very capable."

Thorin nodded, unsure how to continue or what to say next. "That is very good to hear." He continued to pet the soft fur, his gaze still on the wolf. Not once did he look up at her. She shifted from one foot to another, trying to disperse her nervous energy.

Dis and Balin looked at each other, pained with the awkwardness of the situation. Dis threw up her hands in resignation. How did a good-looking dwarf, such as her brother, struggle so with talking to a female? Especially so when this female was supposed to be his soul mate one that Mahal himself crafted for him.

Thorin cleared his throat, seeing his sister's impatient gesture of acute social duress, and gently pulled his hand away from the wolf. He stepped back slightly before bringing his eyes up to meet hers. "There is the matter of where you will be staying for your duration of your… visit, that we must discuss. Since you are recovering from your injuries and…the like." His voice was gruff as he struggled to formulate a plan in his head on the spot.

He, at first, had pictured tossing her out and pointing her towards the little cozy inn in Dale. But after hearing her heartfelt confession to her … pet? He couldn't bring himself to follow through with the plan, The thought of her alone in Dale did not sit well in his mind the more he thought about it. She wasn't from here, and a dam could not just be removed from his kingdom in such a state. Never mind his distaste of her? Was that what he was feeling? Surely it was, that must be what the unease he was feeling was… distaste. She at least needed somewhere safe and under his eye to recover. This way he could make sure she recovered properly before she took her leave. And leave she must he thought to himself, but not too soon of course, he would not want to be seen as inhospitable and barbaric to his neighbors. A room wouldn't be out of the question, since Oin undoubtedly wasn't keen on the idea of having her back in the infirmary for obvious reasons. Normal housing was out of the question. She would draw way too much attention living amongst the residents of Erebor.

That left the royal quarters. She was technically a princess. It wouldn't be odd for him to give her a room fitting of her station. "Yes, the Royal Quarters would be the sensible option" he thought to himself.

"I think it may be prudent to just forget our prior…disagreement." His lips twisted in a humorless smirk. 'Since it is befitting your station, you will be given one of the rooms in the royal quarters until you are well enough to continue on your way."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't expect you to go out of your way to place me in such quarters. I appreciate your offer, but it would please me to stay here with Luna until we are healed enough."

Thorin's eyebrows raised in disbelief. "That is out of the question. I will not allow a guest of our kingdom to sleep on the floor of the dungeons like a prisoner."

Her stance became defensive and was tensing to deliver a quick retort, but an exasperated sigh interrupted her thought.

"That is just preposterous! For once I agree with my brother." Mistlynn watched as Dis walked out from behind the wall, poise and confidence gave her a commanding presence, adding to her striking, natural beauty. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought Dis and Thorin to be twins. Dis shot her bother an unamused glower before looking at Mistlynn, her face instantly brightening with a dazzling smile. "Mistlynn, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I was hoping to meet you earlier, but you were otherwise detained." That last word was dripping with accusing sarcasm, directed once again at her sibling, who only rolled his eyes in response while leaning against the cell bars, his one arm above his head, the other coming to rest on his hip. Mistlynn's eyes widened at his pose, before licking her dry lips, quickly turning her gaze to Dis, eager for distraction. This reaction wasn't missed by Dis, or Balin who had come out to stand alongside her.

"I must insist you come stay in the the royal quarters with us. I would feel better as your host to see to your speedy recovery and ensure proper rest and nourishment. I promise your wolf will be seen to most intently. You will have unlimited access to her daily." Dis encouraged, yet her tone not giving any room for argument.

Mistlynn crossed her arms over her chest. However, not in retaliation but insecurity. Thorin's frown deepened. He was starting to get whiplash from her abrupt changes of attitude.

Luna had gone back to Mistlynn, and gingerly laid down on the straw-filled mat that had been provided for her placed in the back of the cell.

"It grieves me to leave her down here. She is of no threat to anyone, especially in her state. Could she at least stay in my quarters while we are here?"

"I beg you understand that the presence of your Dire-Wolf among our citizens would cause alarm. She is a creature of legend, not seen for many centuries in our lands. Let us see how the situation proceeds before we consider moving her anywhere else. She will be well taken care of here, safe from prying eyes while she recovers. I give you my word." Dis was a good diplomat, Mistlynn would give her that. She could not find fault with her logic. She pursed her lips together as she looked at Luna, worry and fear still evident in her eyes. Luna looked at her for a long moment, before letting out a huff and closing them, looking comfortable laying on her side.

Mistlynn sighed. "Very well. I shall come back to check on her tomorrow."

Thorin grunted, pleased with his sisters take over. "Very well. Have a good evening."

Dis looked at his retreating form in exasperation before looking back at her guest. "Thank you for indulging my wishes. I, for one, am very eager to learn more about you. It has been a very long time since we've had such exciting company."

Mistlynn couldn't help but smile at Dis as Balin began to unlock the cell door, allowing her to step out and join them. It was comforting to be in the presence of another female.

“Come on Lassie. Let's get you settled in and fed." Balin gently touched her arm, guiding her out to walk in-between him and Dis.

*Mistlynn*

Her jaw dropped the moment Balin opened the door to what was now her quarters. She had never imagined such luxury existed. The 4-poster bed was intricately carved dark wood, jewel tone blankets of deep emerald and sapphire made up the bed with thick black furs arranged at the end. Settees, plush armchairs of similar make and color were arranged tastefully throughout the room, in front of a whimsical writing desk in the corner by the massive stone fireplace. A fire had been lit prior her arrival, and it blazed merrily as warm radiated from the hearth.

A dining table of the likes she had never seen before had food set upon it, steaming invitingly. The smell coming from the food made her mouth instantly water.

"I took the initiative to have some food brought. I can only imagine how long it has been since you have had a proper meal. You are skin and bones my dear, I hope you don't mind me saying." Dis chatted as she swept around the room, making sure that everything was in place for her. "I have also had a bath drawn for you. I had them bring hot water so that you could eat at your leisure."

Mistlynn nodded as she slowly approached the table of food. "You are very kind, my Lady."

"Oh, hush. Please, call me Dis. It has been far too long since I've had a friend. The dwarrowdam's of the court I keep at arm's length, but I feel like I can trust you to be a confidant. True friends are few and far between."

Mistlynn looked over at her sharply, surprise written all over her face. "I am honored you think of me as such."

Dis smiled at her warmly. "My instincts have never been wrong. We will be great friends, you and I." She watched Mistlynn smile spread shyly across her face. "Oh, don't let me stop you I am sure you are famished."

Mistlynn looked back at the table of food. "I am, actually." But she paused as she looked at the foreign food in front of her. "I don't even know what to start with."

Balin gestured towards the small basket covered with a cloth napkin. "Bombur's rolls are divine, especially when you dip it in the stew. If it wasn't so late, we would have had more of a dinner course available to you, but he has the kitchen closed down until the early morning…."

"Oh no this is more than sufficient I assure you!" Mistlynn assured him quickly. She reached for the basket of bread and lifted the napkin, seeing the most curious little golden balls she had ever seen. She picked up one, surprised to see it was still warm. "What is a roll?" she asked, still looking at the soft object in her hand curiously.

Balin and Dis were genuinely surprised. "It is bread." Dis explained, confused.

“Bread?" she lifted it up to her nose and sniffed it. It was a pleasantly warm with a slightly sweet aroma.

Dis and Balin looked at each other. "You've never had bread?" Dis asked, trying to mask her astonishment.

"No. I've never heard, seen, or even smelled something such as this." She looked up at her companions, bashful at the realization she was once again at a distinct disadvantage.

Balin smiled encouragingly. "Well then Lass, there is no better time than the present! Take a bite, tell us what you think."

She sniffed it again, savoring the mouth-watering smell, taking a tentative bite. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise. She couldn't help but sigh with the explosion of soft, sweet bread that seemed to just melt in her mouth. "This is amazing!" she gushed, her eyes alight with happiness.

Dis stepped forward lifting a small dish filled with little golden spheres that glistened in the firelight. "Here, if you think they are good alone, you should try it with butter."

"Butter?"

Dis nodded, a pleased smile on her face. She picked up the knife and put some on it for Mistlynn. "Here, just spread it across the bread." She did as Dis instructed, the golden substance spread smoothly on the top of her roll. As she took a bite her eyes fell shut in bliss. "This is incredible." Her voice was filled with awe.

Dis and Balin watched, fascinated with her child like joy of discovering a new favorite food. They never thought that a simple roll could be so lifechanging for one.

Mistlynn sat down in front of the bowl of stew promptly dipping the small remainder of her bread into its gravy like broth. "I've never tasted anything like this, it is amazing." The stew was rich and hearty with tender meat and other root like vegetables she had never seen or tasted before. This meal was truly delightful.

"Well, you have truly made my evening Lassie." Balin beamed, "I am glad you are enjoying your meal."

Mistlynn nodded her head gratefully, her mouth full of stew, finally over her shyness as she began to devour the delicious meal before her.

"Your dressing maid will be in shortly to help with your bath and to turn down your bed. Let her know if there are any special requests you need, we have a selection of oils and perfumes that can be added, especially to help you sleep." Dis stated her voice soft and loving,

“Oh that won't be necessary, I have already had my monthly bath a week ago and truthfully I'm not sure what a dressing maid or perfumed oils are."

"Monthly bath? Oh dear, that won't work here my dear the weather alone won't allow for you to go any longer than a week without smelling like a goat's behind. A dressing maid is someone who will help you undress, dress, draw your baths and set up your bed before and after sleep."

Mistlynn stared at Dis as though the words she spoke were that of a foreign tongue. "I really don't believe that will be necessary but I will accept your kindness.

“Do you not have maids in the White Kingdom?" Dis asked, surpised that a princess would not have a maid charged with her care.

"We have those to assist us, but I have never had a person to assist with my sleeping routine. As the princess there are ones to take care of my dirtied leathers and replace them with clean ones. We have ones that cook or clean after others but since we are a nomadic people everyone must do their part and assist in the keeping of the village."

Balin simply shook his head as he watched Dis struggle with trying to find the right words. 'It seems we have a lot to learn about you lass, and you will be learning a whole new way of life as well. It will be intereting to say the least."

Mistlynn smiled as she reached for another roll. "I look forward to it Master Balin."

[belicioustummy]

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A KINK STORY. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.

A vampire hunter shows up at a party prepared to slay the vampire host, but finds it more difficult than expected.

(full disclosure: this story doesn’t focus on belly kink as much as my other stuff, but it’s still present. hope you enjoy anyway!)

“Bradley Givens is a librarian who works the night shift. He’s been described by people who know him as friendly, scholarly, and handsome. He also happens to be a vampire.”

Lloyd Brewer chewed his lip as he typed up the information his team would need for their little outing that night.

“Every few months, like every vampire, Bradley will get an irresistible craving for human blood. We know this because he’s been posting online for a couple years about events where a real vampire will feed on you.” He grimaced. To think a killer creature of the night had been menacing innocent, misguided people for so long! It was enough to make you sick… though he had to admit, he was a little excited too. As a vampire hunter, he’d had several false starts that were embarrassing to look back on. But tonight, this little vampire party? This would be the one. He’d bring an end to this monster, and nobody would have to worry about getting their blood sucked in this town again!

Lloyd was feeling slightly less confident upon arriving at the door of a nice-looking two-story house. Luckily several other vampire hunters were with him for backup- a couple of old college pals and a guy he’d met on a vampire information forum. True, none of them had any real experience with vampires either, but there was safety in numbers.

He’d been expecting a ravenous, snarling monster descending on clueless and terrified partygoers to kill them, but what he found upon arriving was a charming, well-dressed fellow feeding on guests all too eager to give him a taste. The guests themselves came in a wide variety, he noted as he glanced from goths in full makeup to guys in casual dress chatting about a film festival with a middle-aged businesswoman. There was a table covered in plates of delicious-looking food, which partygoers periodically stopped to enjoy.

Lloyd noticed a few people looking nervous or uncomfortable as they approached the vampire Bradley, and watched them, ready to jump in at the moment he struck. The moment never came, though. Bradley seemed perfectly happy to let them decline, directing them to go mingle or try the snacks. It wasn’t as though there was any short supply of people willing to give him a sip straight from the source. Lloyd wondered if this many people showed up to all Bradley’s parties- were they repeat guests? He definitely seemed familiar with some of them. His suspicions were confirmed when he overheard a duo of women gushing over how Bradley had “filled out” since a few years ago. The fact that he’d gained that weight from snacking on people didn’t seem to bother them, judging from the bandages on their fingers. Lloyd tried to ignore the uninvited thought that Bradley’s large figure was pretty attractive. That was how they got you.

As the night progressed, he and his fellow hunters kept to themselves. He didn’t even sample the food, not trusting it. However, when all the guests willing to be bitten had gotten enough blood drained away, Bradley turned his bright eyes to the many new guests who’d declined a drink.

“Come now, it’s a party!” he said, grinning at them with his sharp teeth on display. “You may not have wanted to have me feed from you, but there’s no reason you can’t eat some of this spread! I want all my guests to enjoy themselves.”

Lloyd took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped forward, his hand on the holster that concealed his stake.

“Actually,” he said, willing his voice not to shake, “I’d enjoy myself more if I could slay you.”

Several guests around his target gasped, but Bradley himself only gave him an easy smile. “Really? That’s exciting. Come over, then.”

Lloyd made his way across the floor. Though it was only a few feet to the vampire, the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him made it feel a lot longer. Bradley made no move to defend himself, sitting prone in his chair with the grace of an aristocrat.

“Shall I unbutton my shirt? It will make for easier access,” he said. When Lloyd didn’t answer, he began to do just that. Two buttons were open before Lloyd finally found the guts to say something.

“I’d rather do this somewhere we don’t have so many people watching,” he said.

A woman beside Bradley began to whisper something in his ear, but he murmured something to her that seemed to put her at ease.

“Of course. Come with me.” And with that, Bradley took his hand and led him upstairs, then down a long hallway. Lloyd began to wish he’d taken along one of his slayer friends. They’d come after him if he was gone too long, though… wouldn’t they?

Bradley opened the door to a room with a large, curtained four-poster bed. It was very clean, with unlit candles in jars and moonlight streaming in through a window. He lay on the bed, exposing his pale collarbone in a way that made Lloyd blush. It wasn’t bedroom eyes, he told himself. He was just trying to mess with his head.

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. The only way to win this was to beat the vampire at his own game. “Would you mind taking off your shirt?” he asked. “For practicality’s sake.”

“So polite for someone trying to kill me,” Bradley remarked, undoing the third button. There were soft, dark curls of hair on his broad chest.

“If I was too cocky, you might get sick of playing with me and decide I’m perfect for dessert.”

“You think so?” He undid another button, requiring a bit more attention than the others before it. Lloyd hadn’t noticed before, but the shirt looked rather tight around the middle. It must have been all the fresh blood Bradley had drank- and yet, his clothes were spotless, as though he hadn’t spilled one drop.

“It’s not hard to tell you’re playing mind games.”

“Mind games? I’ve been nothing but courteous to you,” he said calmly, undoing yet another button. “In fact, I’d say I’ve gone beyond being a good host.” The last button free, he shrugged off the shirt and placed it beside him on a pillow.

Lloyd stared. No wonder the shirt had looked a little strained. The vampire was so bloated with blood that his round stomach had a slight pink blush. He was a predator after a hunt, full and sleepy and, most of all, vulnerable. He gazed up at him, almost seeming to expect something.

“I don’t think good hosts usually eat the guests,” Lloyd shot back, pulling his stake from his holster and advancing on him. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not for a minute. He wouldn’t be next.

Bradley shrugged. “It’s not as if that was in fine print on the invitation. These people like when I feed from them. As long as my guests leave happy, what’s the issue?”

“I think we need-“ Lloyd thrust out his non-occupied hand, pinning it to Bradley’s chest “-to get to the heart of the matter.”

There was a brief pause.

“Your hand is warm,” Bradley said.

“I just- can’t find a pulse,” Lloyd said, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Your heart is here, right?”

“No, that’s my breast. It would still hurt if you stabbed me there, though.”

Lloyd scowled and hoped the blush creeping up his neck wasn’t visible. He moved his hand over and readied the stake. He searched the creature’s eyes for a spark of fear, anger, anything to show that he realized what was about to happen-

And he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Is this your first time?”

He blinked.

Those bright eyes were looking at him, not with fear, but with curiosity. Lloyd swallowed, not lowering the stake.

“I… yes. Why should that matter?”

“You seem like you’re the type of person who wants their first slaying to be special.” He didn’t make a move to grab for Lloyd’s weapon. His hand, pressing gently into his shoulder, felt almost comforting. “Is that right?”

He nodded slowly. “I was so sure tonight was going to be the night. Everything seemed perfect, but now that it’s time to actually do it…”

“You have performance anxiety?”

Lloyd sighed and finally put the stake down. “I really blew it, I guess.”

“No,” Bradley said consolingly, patting his hand. “You did a lot just by coming here! If you’re not comfortable with slaying me tonight, that’s your choice.”

“Are you sure that’s not just your instinct to stay alive talking?”

“Well, partially,” he admitted. “But I’d still say that even if you weren’t bent on putting a stake in me.” He pushed his hair back. “I don’t take blood from anyone who isn’t ready, either. But you already know that. I saw you watching me all night.”

Lloyd had thought he’d been subtle. He sat on the corner of the bed, brows furrowed in resignation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said. “Everyone expected me to slay you tonight, but you’re not hurting anyone. I can’t.”

Bradley considered this. “You could go back and say that you put up a hell of a fight, but I got away. I could even tear your clothes a little to really sell it.”

“I feel like they might come to look for you,” Lloyd said. Bradley seemed like he could handle himself, but he didn’t want his friends to try and finish the job. “Couldn’t you turn into a bat and hide out of sight til we leave?”

“Ordinarily, sure. But at the moment, I’m so full that it’s not feasible.” He rubbed his belly. “It’s going to take me a while to digest all this.”

“Ah. Too bad,” said Lloyd, trying not to imagine how it would feel if he brushed his fingers over that satiated stomach. There were more important things at hand. “Maybe if we-“

The sound of quick footsteps came from down the hall, followed by another pair close behind. The door handle turned. One of Lloyd’s friends threw open the door, stake poised at the ready. Their eyes met Lloyd’s panicked ones, then traveled to Bradley, lying shirtless and slightly bemused on the bed.

“Oh,” they said, and then, dropping their stake, “oh, shit. Sorry.” The woman from earlier caught up to them as they closed the door. Lloyd caught her expression change from concern to relief right before it shut.

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Lloyd started to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“That could’ve gone worse,” he said. “I know it’s kind of bold to ask this as a party crasher, but can I take a minute before I go face the music?”

“Stay as long as you like,” Bradley said. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

Lloyd lay on his side along the width of the bed, perpendicular to his new friend. “Is it cool to ask how you became a vampire?”

“Sure, but you have to tell me what got you into vampire hunting afterwards…”

A little while later, they came downstairs together. Bradley had his shirt back on, though he hadn’t bothered to button it. Lloyd’s friends were gawking at the two of them with various astonished expressions, but he found he didn’t really mind. 

After he’d ushered them out of the house, Bradley gave Lloyd a quick peck on the cheek. “Feel free to come to the next one,” he said. “I always appreciate good company.”

Lloyd squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[angrelysimpping]

lol, meet my newest oc, Danny.

(picrew)

hes semi possessed and not thrilled about it

some porn of him uwu

(noncon touching; forced mastrubation; possession; talking about murder; anal fingering; uuuuuh, i think that's it?)

Someone had been killed here. 

Murdered, right in this very bed. It's something Danny knew from the moment he stepped into the shitty little motel room. He didn't even have to think, didn't have to ask anyone, or try researching it like he used to. No, not now. Not after he killed someone himself, felt their hot blood on his skin, watched the life fade from their eyes, and…changed. Now, he felt it in the air, could almost see how it all happened if he bit his lip and focused. 

Still, that didn't stop him from flopping back onto the thin mattress fully clothed. The rough sheets and lumpy pillow might have bothered others, but Danny couldn't give a shit about things like that anymore. 

Sleeping on a prison cot for the better part of a year does things like that.

Unfortunately, his stint in prison didn’t help with his inability to fall asleep.

Danny isn’t sure how long he lays there, willing his mind to shut down, his body to rest. Eventually, he feels it creeping over him. His body lighter, fingers twitching keeping him present just a little longer before he can finally drift off. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy to murderers.

Danny sighs deeply as the thought floats through his half-awake mind, unsure if it’s even a thought from his own brain or…from it. The thing that clawed its way into his body, had twisted its essence into his soul by mistake and was now stuck with him. He hopes it was from his own mind, not wanting to deal with his uninvited guest just as sleep was starting to seem like it would actually envelop him. 

Of course, it’s not that easy. Nothing has been since the night he agreed to that stupid ritual. Sure, he didn’t have any qualms killing the man, had even enjoyed it really, but now he has to deal with some fucker in his head all the time. Like now. 

It’s with a jolt that Danny feels his hand move at his side. Not a half-asleep twitch but move. On its own. Or, by someone else’s will. 

“Knock it off,” he mumbles, tongue heavy and eyes still closed, begging silently for sleep to take him.

It doesn’t listen.

His hand comes up, scared palm slipping under the fabric of his tattered jacket and gliding across the plane of his stomach. It feels…odd. It’s his hand but it doesn’t quite feel like he’s touching himself. But, well, it’s not bad, really. Just…disconcerting that he’s not the one in control of his own limbs.   

Oh. Wait. No. No, that’s bad, wasn’t it? He wasn’t in control. The entity was. The thing that had tried to steal his body. The thing that had let that young prison guard get ripped to shreds. 

Danny struggles to sit up, more than sleep making his thoughts and movements sluggish. It’s weighing him down, trying to push him back into that horrid subconsciousness that had paralyzed him when the entity had yanked the controls of his exhausted body from him to save both of their lives.  

“Fuck off,” Danny wheezes, chest heavy, full of lead, as he manages to prop himself up against the headboard. 

Relax.

Not his thoughts, then. Not his at all. 

His hand travels up, tracing along his sternum before resting across his heart. What now? Was it going to try to rip his heart from his chest like some kinda B horror monster? Was-

Danny’s thoughts sputter out as the pad of his thumb grazes over his nipple, slowly rolling the soft bud until it stiffened. 

“What are-” he cuts himself off, biting down on his bottom lip as his own nails scrape across his chest. Fingers latch onto his other nipple, tugging at the piercing more than teasing the flesh like it had with the other. The taste of copper fills his mouth, sharp teeth piercing the thin skin of his lip. Laughter fills his head as his other hand springs to life and starts to snake under his jeans. 

“S-stop it.” He wants to die. He wants to die and take this thing with him. He hates it. Hates how his voice breaks and how heat is starting to pool in his gut. It feels like eons since the last time he was touched like this, even by himself. Too much to do, too stressed, too exhausted. When would he have had the time to jack off? Maybe he should have made the time because now his cock is twitching to life even as Danny tries to fight off the thing giving him pleasure in the first place.  

Worst of all, it knows what it’s doing. Knows just how he likes to be touched. Feather-light teasing of fingertips across his thighs. Harsh squeeze to the balls before lovingly stroking over the soft skin. Ghosting over the piercings on the underside of his cock, barely touching them at all.

Then it’s gone, retreating from his pants, and there’s a glorious moment of hope where Danny thinks the thing has decided to stop. Or, maybe, hopefully, he succeeded in taking back control of his own body.

Alas, it’s a short-lived moment, jeans roughly pulled down over sharp hips. 

Relax, Daniel.

“Go to hell, fucking- shit!”

Hate. Hate is what’s burning through him as his own fingers seek out his rim, breaching the tight ring of muscle with no warning or prep. Hate and nothing else. Nothing that would make his cock jump to attention, nothing that would make a fat bead of precum swell at his tip. 

So stressed, poor little vessel. 

“Not a - ah - a, a vessel.” God, he hates himself for moaning. It’s not his fault, his body reacting as another finger is forced into him, but that doesn’t stop the shame burning across his face. 

Especially not when that spot is hit inside him, that bundle of nerves that makes his whole body light up in pleasure. 

Danny doesn’t think, partly him and partly the entity forcing thoughts from his head. If he doesn't think, he won’t have to face the fact that he’s hiking his leg up, giving better access for the fingers pressing inside him. He won’t have to think of the small sounds leaving his throat, the whimpers and whines that make his ears burn. 

When was the last time he was touched like this? Some dirty-mouthed redhead with bright eyes and a wicked tongue. There had been laughter then, hot kisses on his neck and a rough hand between his legs. Strong thighs pressed to his sides as a tight heat devoured his cock, sucking hickies to their broad chest. If Danny just closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was back in that field, back pressed into soft grass and with a firecracker of a one-night stand instead of…of…here, getting fucked on his own fingers in a run-down motel by some backstabbing bastard. 

Fingers moving inside him, fingers targeting his prostate with a seeming laser focus, teasing his chest, he can’t help but let his head fall back against the headboard with a dull thud. He must look a mess, panting pathetically, sharp teeth stained red from his attempts to silence himself by biting into his bottom lip or the inside of his cheek. Too much red. Too much blood. The cuts on his right side, stretching from his hip to shoulder, burn. The being that meshed their soul with his feeding off his blood, making him writhe even more as pain laces together with the pleasure thrumming through him. 

The hand on his chest migrates, nails dragging, until it finds the edge of the cuts, the intricate fucking symbol that ties him to whatever that fucking entity is. It’s almost gentle, loving, the way it touches the mark. Really, if he just let himself enjoy it, if he just pictured that redhead instead-

Danny screams as his fingers press into the cut, digging into his side and alighting every nerve with blinding white pain.

Stay with me, Daniel.

It presses down on his prostate, moving in tandem with the fingers digging into his side. Danny’s eyes go wide, mouth agape as all his senses are overwhelmed at once. It’s a blinding mixture, pain and pleasure coursing through him in waves. Tears well in his eyes, quickly slipping free and streaking down his cheeks. As the entity pushes him closer to the edge, tortures him by prying open the marks on his side, it gains an even greater foothold in him. Eyes shifting, turning from a deep brown to purple, the whites going gray than black. If he were capable of any thought at the moment, he’d worry about the horns sprouting, getting stuck in that form and being unable to make it subside. Or, maybe he’d worry about the tingling at the base of his spine, the itching that would surely sprout a tail. 

He can’t though. There’s not a thought in Danny’s head that isn’t about the force inside him. The one controlling his hands, the one fucking him open and ripping him apart at the same time.

It takes a monumental effort, but, eventually, Danny’s voice returns enough for him to get out a broken “Please.” 

Please?

It’s a leading question, one that demands Danny answer but he’s already lost his ability to speak again, head lolling to the side, tongue hanging past his lips. His tongue stud glints in the dim light of the room, drool dripping softly to the sheets below as his body is pulled from one extreme to the other. Well and truly lost, cum leaks freely down his cock, pooling under his ass and staining the sheets. 

He wouldn’t know how to answer anyway. 'Please stop?' ‘Please more?’ 'Please let me cum?' All were equally viable answers. All were begging, deferring to the entity. That was enough for it to decide to let the human rest. 

Danny’s eyes roll back, a silent cry trapped in his throat as he cums, cock untouched, painting his stomach and chest with white. Blood from his side mixes with the tacky substance, staining his skin pink. 

The moment he cums, everything stops. The pain in his side recedes, the fingers abusing his hole slide out. He lays limp, dark hair matted to his face with sweat, chest heaving, jacket hanging loose from his shoulders. Dimly, Danny becomes aware of himself enough to close his mouth, idly wiping the drool and blood off his chin. He can’t stop a groan from slipping free as he shifts to lie down, trying to get comfortable in his now damp sheets. 

Goodnight, little vessel. Sleep well.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles back, even as he settles down into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

[remma3760]

Chapter 5

Summary:

Preparations are afoot in Cloud Recesses for Wei Ying's ribbon ceremony, but will a visitor to Cloud Recesses prevent the adoption?

The guards were flustered, unsure and intimidated as the woman in white waited patiently at the gate and requested entry. She had no invitation and wasn't expected, so it should be straightforward to simply refuse her, but somehow they couldn't. She had been perfectly polite, yet there was an aura about her, a hidden power that was overwhelming. What should they do? The rules were quite clear -no invitation, no entry. 

Taking a deep breath and bowing low, the senior guard tried again. "Apologies, Madam. Cloud Recesses is not accepting guests at this time."

She took pity on them. Fun as it was to terrorise little Lans she had, perhaps, teased them enough. She gave them her name, again requesting an audience with Lan Qiren. The shock on their faces was gratifying. As was the frantic bowing and apologising as the younger took off at a fast walk to announce her presence. 

Lan Qiren raised an eyebrow at the agitated disciple who had burst into his room. With a gasp, the poor boy went back out, knocked, and then came back in, bowing repeatedly. Clearing his throat. Lan Qiren indicated for him to make his report.

"Lan Xiansheng, a visitor."

"A visitor?"

"Yes, Xiansheng. At the gate."

Surely dealing with one single uninvited guest was not beyond the capabilities of Lan disciples. "Is there any reason you have come to me with this?"

"Xiansheng, she asked to see you. She says she is Baoshen Sanren."

Baoshen Sanren here? Now? With Wei Ying's ribbon ceremony only two days away? This could not be a coincidence. It would have to be dealt with immediately. "Bring her to me."

Bowing again, the disciple scurried off to carry out Lan Qiren's orders. 

***

"Fengmian, why have you not yet brought That Brat back to Lotus Pier? It's been four months!"

"My Lady, I am writing to Lan Qiren twice a week as it is, and I have had both Yanli and Cheng send messages directly to Wei Ying. I am doing all I can."

"All you can? What good is writing when Lan Qiren ignores you? Have you told him to send The Brat back or have you not?"

"Not directly, but he must know what I mean."

"Of course he knows! He clearly doesn't care. You need to go there and demand The Brat's return. Lan Qiren can't ignore you when you are standing right in front of him."

"Ziyuan, be reasonable. I can't just go uninvited. You know how the Lans are."

"You think they would leave you standing at the gate like a beggar? You are Jiang Zongzhu. Act like it! If you were any kind of man, then you would never have let those Lans take what was ours in the first place."

Yes, that had been a mistake. He had been so shocked that his wife had used Zidian on the child that he had miscalculated. Overreacted. There were perfectly good healers here, at Lotus Pier. He should have insisted A-Ying be taken to them. A-Ying would have been fine in no time, and it would all have blown over. Now, there was all this mess. "I couldn't know that they would keep him. What do they want with him anyway? Lan Qiren didn't even like Cangse Sanren, and he barely knew Changze. Wei Ying means nothing to him."

"They must want something. They think they can gain something by holding onto The Brat. He's worthless otherwise." 

"My lady!"

"What? Tell me, what value does that Brat have to anyone but you?"

But, didn't Ziyuan want him home, too? She had been as adamant for his return as he had been, so surely she must value him too? "Do you not also want him returned?"

"Of course I do. He belongs to us. I won't have anyone think they can come here and steal our property as though we were nothing. The disrespect! I won't stand for it."

"But if they refuse..."

"They have no right to refuse. We will go there ourselves and make our demands. We will leave first thing in the morning."

"But..."

"And we will take the children. Even the Lan wouldn't dare to leave gentry children standing on their doorstep."

And so it was decided. The Jiang would go to Cloud Recesses to retrieve their stolen property. 

***

Lan Qiren bowed low, then waited. 

Baoshen Sanren watching speculatively. "So, I've heard some rumours since I left my mountain."

"Lans don't gossip."

"Of course you don't. But you will, I'm sure, be willing to confirm or deny the information I have received."

Lan Qiren reluctantly nodded. 

"Good. Is my Cangse dead?"

That was not the question Lan Qiren had been expecting. Could she really not have known this? "You didn't know?"

"It's true, then."

"It is. I am sorry. I know that she was your disciple, so..."

"My daughter."

"What?"

"Cangse was my daughter."

How could this be? "I hadn't realised that you were, that you... your daughter?"

"Adopted, but yes, my daughter none the less. Tell me, once you adopt my grandson, will he be any less your son because you do not share blood?"

"No, of course not. He will be mine in everything but name."

"You're not giving him the Lan name? Why not?"

"His choice, and I agreed. I have no desire to erase his parents from his life. Do you often adopt your disciples?"

"She was the only one. My special one. There was something magical about my Cangse. So bright and brilliant. Her smile was like sunshine on a rainy day. I loved her."

"I am sorry for your loss. Wei Ying has her smile."

"I'm glad something of her remains in this world. Do you know how she died?"

"I do not. It was a night hunt I believe. They can't have expected trouble as they left Wei Ying alone at the inn."

"So they thought to return to him soon."

"I would imagine so."

"Hmn. Why are you adopting him?"

"Many reasons. He needs a home, and I want to give him one."

"Do you love him?"

Did he? Lan Qiren considered. He thought of the child's joy with the world, how easily he smiled in spite of the traumas he had suffered. How he would run and hug Lan Qiren's leg whenever they had been parted even a short time. How contented A-Zhan was in his company. How much better his life was with Wei Ying in it. "Yes. I do."

"Good."

Lan Qiren breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that Baoshen Sanren would try to take Wei Ying, even more so once he realised he was her grandson. She had the right, after all. "You will allow the adoption, then?"

"I want my grandson to be happy. If he is, then I won't interfere. Now, I have a few more questions."

"Of course."

"He was found by Jiang Fengmian and taken to live at Lotus Pier?"

"He was. Wei Changze was a disciple at Lotus Pier, and a good friend to Jiang Fengmian before he married your daughter, so it seemed appropriate."

"How badly was he mistreated there, Lan Qiren?"

"I can't be sure. Our healer examined him, and reported a number of older injuries, but I was not witness to any of it so cannot comment. Until the last."

"Yes. The last. When Yu Ziyuan struck my grandson with a spiritual weapon. You saw that?"

"I saw the aftermath. I was with Jiang Fengmian in his office and so only saw the tail end. Wei Ying was on the ground, my nephew in front of him while that woman was preparing to strike my A-Zhan. Presumably  so she could get at Wei Ying again. I stopped that, at least."

"I see. So that part is also true. Your small nephew stood up to an enraged adult wielding a terrifying lightening whip to protect my grandson. Impressive."

"Mnn. My A-Zhan always wants to do what is just. I am never sure whether to be scared or proud."

"Be both. I want to meet my grandson."

"Of course. Tea?"

"Thank-you. that would be lovely."

***

Lan Zhan held tightly to Wei Ying's hand. He knew he probably shouldn't be here, only Wei Ying had been summoned after all. But Wei Ying might need him. What if there was danger? Admittedly, peril was improbable in Shufu's office, but still. Better to be safe. 

They entered the office together, Lan Zhan surprised at finding his uncle wan't alone. Who was this smiling lady in white? She looked kind, but who knew? The white robes were Lan like and so comforting, but Lan Zhan would be on his guard just in case. 

She smiled wider coming towards them and Lan Zhan held even tighter to his Wei Ying. Wei Ying was less cautious and bounced happily at meeting a new person. Lan Zhan bowed, pulling Wei Ying down with him. Whoever she was, manners were important. 

She bowed back, easing Lan Zhan's concern. Bad people wouldn't be polite, would they? And Shufu was letting her close to them, so she must be trustworthy. He relaxed his grip on Wei Ying, waiting to be introduced.

"What well-behaved children."

Lan Zhan was pleased to make a good impression, while Wei Ying nodded vigorously. "We are, we are. We follow all the rules. Mostly. I did run a bit yesterday, and sometimes I laugh for no reason and I do get loud, but A-Die said as long as I try to be good then it's okay. I'm young still and learning. Lan Zhan is perfect." 

No, Lan Zhan knew he was not perfect. "Not perfect." 

Wei Ying turned to Lan Zhan, clutching his hand, "you are, you are. Lan Zhan, you're so good."

Lan Zhan huffed, turning to the strange lady and declaring solemnly, "not perfect."

"Lan Qiren, they're precious. Please, introduce me."

"Of course. Boys, this is Baoshen Sanren. She is your grandmother, A-Ying."

Wei Ying bounced and squealed, "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan my grandmother! I have a grandmother! Look. She's here. My grandmother. Do you see her?"

Grandmother? Wei Ying had a grandmother? Where did she come from? She wasn't going to take him away was she? "you're not taking him away?"

"No." 

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, of course I won't go away. I'm being adopted. I'm going to stay with you forever. But now I have a grandmother too. I'm so lucky. Ooh, can my grandmother come to my ribbon ceremony? Can she, can she please?"

Lan Qiren looked to Baoshen Sanren. "She would be very welcome should she wish to attend."

"I would like that. Thank you for inviting me, A-Ying."

"Yay!" Wei Ying waved his hands in the air, even the one holding Lan Zhan and so also ended up waving Lan Zhan's hand in the air. He ran forward, dragging Lan Zhan so he could hug his new grandmother's leg. 

"Dear child. So like your mother."

"You knew my mother?"

"She was my daughter, A-Ying."

Lan Zhan had a question. He raised his hand and waited to be called on. Wei Ying didn't wait. "Oh, oh, Lan Zhan has a question. This is Lan Zhan. He's so good. He always takes care of me. He helps me all the time with everything. Did you know he saved me from Madam Yu?"

"I did know that. A true hero."

Lan Zhan disagreed. He had only done what was right. How could that make him a hero? "Not a hero."

Letting go of Baoshen Sanren's leg he gripped Lan Zhan instead, squeezing his waist tightly. "He is! Lan Zhan is a hero. Lan Zhan, you are! No-one else ever saved me, but you did, and you didn't even know me."

Lan Zhan still disagreed. "Only did what was right."

"And that is heroic." Baoshen Sanren crouched down on a level with the two boys. "Child, many know what is right, but very few are willing to do it. You are righteous, A-Zhan, and brave. I am glad my grandson will have such a good and kind friend at his side in his journey through life. Now, you had a question?"

Lan Zhan took a moment. No-one had ever spoken to him in that way before. It would need to be thought about. But for now, he had his question. "If you are Wei Ying's grandmother, why didn't you take better care of him?"

"A-Zhan..."

"No, Lan Qiren. He's right. And I regret not taking action sooner. But you see, I didn't know that my daughter and her husband, Wei Ying's Mama and Baba, had died. I live on a mountain far away, and so I don't always know what is happening in the world."

Lan Zhan nodded sagely. "Because you don't gossip." 

"Well that, yes, but also because there isn't really anyone to gossip with. My people mostly stay secluded on my mountain so it's only on the rare occasions that I leave that I get any news. I promise, if I had known, I would have come. And now that I know about you. A-Ying, I will try to visit more often."

Wei Ying beamed at her. His Grandmother! "Oh, oh, what should I call you? I have an A-Die now, and a Tangge. Lan Zhan is still Lan Zhan, because that's just who he is. So what do I call you?"

"How about LaoLao?"

"LaoLao. My LaoLao. What about Lan Zhan? Can you be his LaoLao too?"

Lan Zhan looked at her. He thought this lady seemed kind and would be a good LaoLao.

Baoshen Sanren laughed, hugging both boys. "Yes, yes of course Lan Zhan too if he would like."

"Mnn." Lan Zhan would like.

Lan Qiren was amazed. He had certainly never expected the day to turn out like this when he woke that morning. It would seem that, once again, his family had grown and now contained an immortal. 

"A-Ying, perhaps LaoLao would like to see your parents shrine?"

"Yes! A-Die made tablets for Mama and Baba and I got to pick where they go. I found such a pretty place behind our house so I can go visit them often. Do you want to see?"

"That sounds wonderful. Lan Qiren, that was thoughtful of you. Thank-you."

"This is A-Ying's home now. It's only right."

"Right. Yes."

Still chattering, Wei Ying led his grandmother away, Lan Zhan holding her free hand. She turned as she left, giving Lan Qiren a respectful nod.

[scotianostra]

On 14th July 1820 John Gibson Lockhart, the Scottish biographer, was born.

John Gibson was a descendant of many Scottish ministers and he was expected to follow their steps. Unfortunately in January 1803 two of John Gibson’s siblings died (probably from diphtheria) and he also caught the illness, which left him partially deaf.

He was grieving over his brother and sister so much that he had to interrupt his high school studies, to which he never returned because at the age of 11 he went straight to Glasgow University. John Gibson was such an excellent student – he had already learnt seven foreign languages – that he soon received a bursary to study at Oxford. John had many doubts about religion for the majority of his life and decided to study law instead of divinity.

After graduation, Lockhart returned to his parents’ house in Glasgow and started his legal career, but he became more and more attracted to literature. Since his teenage years he would draw and write prose and poetry, and in 1817 Lockhart decided to move to Edinburgh and seek both literary inspiration and a job.

He immediately found new friends in the capital and they joined the new, brave Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, which instantly became extremely popular among the readers and not so much among the ridiculed or attacked authors.

Blackwood payed for Lockhart’s travels to the Netherlands and Germany, where he studied literature, met Goethe, and wrote several interesting texts about his stay and trip. German language and literature interested only a small group of intellectuals at that time and Walter Scott was one of them. The first meeting with Scott was fateful for Lockhart, although he has never been a great fan of Scott’s novels. Scott was suffering from an attack of gallstones and new friendship with Lockhart cheered him up very much. During the period of Scott’s illness Lockhart got on very well with the authors family, protected them from many uninvited guests, and became especially close with Scott’s eldest daughter Sophia, whom he married on the 28th April 1820.

Lockhart’s literary production was very diverse, he wrote a number of more or less mocking articles for the Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine between 1817 and 1825 and at the same time he published all his novels – Peter’s Letters to his Kinsfolk, Valerius , Adam Blair, Reginald Dalton, and Matthew Wald. Lockhart was a very innovative writer, all his novels could be categorized as psychological, but unluckily Adam Blair and Matthew Wald were at that time considered too controversial. He also translated old Spanish ballads and edited a new edition of Don Quixote.

Lockhart was also an editor of the Quarterly Review, one of the most influential literary journals in the world, between 1825 and 1853. John Wilson Croker, an Irish writer and political commentator, and Elizabeth Rigby Lady Eastlake, a writer, art historian, and traveller, were his closest friends and colleagues. Today, Lockhart is well known as the first and best biographer of Scott. Lockhart also wrote two another very influential biographies: Life of Robert Burns and History of Napoleon.

After Sophia’s sudden death in 1837 Lockhart stopped writing and he never married again. He died there on 25 th November 1854 and was buried at Dryburgh Abbey beside the grave of his father in law.

[bazyboo13]

Smiling Critters: New Family Part 1 chapter 2 segment 4 : AN UNINVITED BUT WELCOMED GUEST

*later that night*

"what's in the box?, Adam and Jane shouldn't have come this early"

-"just open it"-

"IT COULD BE A CAMERA, PLAYTIME CO COULD BE TRYING TO FIND US!"

"It will be ok, I hope"

"please, just open it"

"let me get a knife"

*all of a sudden muffled screaming starts from within the box*

"SOMEONE'S IN THE BOX!"

"I'M BACK WITH THE KNIFE!"

*the screaming intensifies*

"SOMEONE'S IN THERE!"

"I'll be careful"

*Baz cuts the tape on the box, the screaming becomes unmuffled and quieter*

"Oh my God..."

*There is a smiling Critters doll, one Baz never ordered nor saw on the site. The plushie was a gray fox with some blue hands and feet. The tips of his ears have the same blue. His charm was a cloud. He was in a bit of disrepair, some of his scratches had blood on them*

+"Uh... Hey..."+

"WHO THE HECK IS THAT"

"JAMES, HOW DID YOU GET HERE?!"

"I'm so confused..."

*Baz notices that Edgar is starting to tear up*

"Edgar, are you ok"

*Edgar seems to just notice that he's tearing up*

"OH, yeah... I'm ok"

"how did you get here?"

+"I learned about how you guys got here from Sarah"+

"of course it was her haha"

"who's Anna?"

"she is the Hoppy Plushie"

"ok"

"so, how didn't you get caught"

+"I did, so when Huggy Wuggy escaped again I ran away"+

"THE FACTORY IS MILES AWAY!"

+"that's why I'm in a fair bit of disrepair"+

"I can help with that"

+"what do you mean by that?"+

"I can sew the holes, replace missing stuffing and clean up the blood"

+"thanks"+

"welcome to the family!"

*Baz gives James a big hug*

"by the way, which plushies were you supposed to be"

+"oh... I'm an upcoming character in the Smiling Critters TV series called Frowny Fox"+

"wait, there's an actual Smiling Critters Series? You know what, nevermind"

*Baz picks James up*

"let's get you fixed up

(there is chapter 2, done! And there is a new family member!)

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