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cowboygenesis · 11 days

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18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader

summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.

pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.

It still made little sense to you.

You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.

"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.

You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.

"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.

Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.

He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."

You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.

After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.

Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.

At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"

"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.

You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.

"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"

Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.

"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."

Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."

Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.

"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.

Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."

Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.

“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.

He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”

Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.

Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.

He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.

"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."

"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.

Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.

"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"

You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.

"Maybe I would." You don’t.

For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.

"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."

You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.

“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”

The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.

Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.

"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”

Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”

Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.

“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”

Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”

His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.

“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”

Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.

“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”

His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.

Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.

“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.

You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.

Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”

You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.

“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”

You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.

And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.

“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”

“Like I need a third one,”

You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.

“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”

You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.

Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.

“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”

Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.

“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.

“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”

Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.

“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.

He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”

Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”

His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.

“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”

And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.

You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.

The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.

“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.

All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.

“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.

“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.

His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?

But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.

Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.

“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.

You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?

Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.

You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.

“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.

His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”

His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.

“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.

Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.

You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.

He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.

When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.

This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.

The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.

He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.

The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.

“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”

His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.

“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.

His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”

’Next time?’

You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.

His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.

“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”

His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.

When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.

He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.

You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.

With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.

The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.

“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”

Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.

You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…

You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.

He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.

“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”

“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”

He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.

“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”

And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.

You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.

“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”

You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.

“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”

He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.

You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.

“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”

His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.

“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”

Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.

His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.

The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.

He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.

When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.

He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.

He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.

“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”

He does.

His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.

The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.

Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.

Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.

Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.

“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.

“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.

“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”

“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.

He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.

“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.

The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.

Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.

“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.

His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.

“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.

“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.

“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.

A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.

When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.

“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”

Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.

It happens within seconds.

Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.

When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.

He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.

He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.

Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.

“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”

You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”

His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.

His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”

The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”

And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.

You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.

When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.

You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.

Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.

Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.

Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.

His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.

“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”

Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.

You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.

Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.

Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.

You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.

The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.

His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.

With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.

The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.

“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.

“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.

“O-Okay— I… I—”

He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.

Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.

Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.

Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.

Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.

White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.

Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.

Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.

The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.

You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.

You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”

You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.

He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”

You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.

You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.

You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.

When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.

You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.

He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.

You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.

And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.

“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.

You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.

He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.

It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.

“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.

He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”

You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.

“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.

You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.

“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.

“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”

You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.

“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”

He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.

“You would never.”

He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.

“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.

You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.

As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.

Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.

“As long as I'll live, I never could.”

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bpmiranda · 9 days

Note

can you do a fic where Logan and Y/N have a mutant baby and Logan is trying to help his baby girl out with her new powers and trying to help her control them 🥹 (fluff)

New Generation (Logan Howlett)

A/N: so fluffy, dad!logan, mutant!reader(heat resistance) mutant!daughter(electrical manipulation)

There wasn’t a way to know early on if your little girl would have any abilities like those of her father or your own, but you found out pretty quickly after her first scraped knee that she did in fact inherit his regenerative mutation. “Look at that.” Logan chuckled as he wiped her tears and gently lifted her knee up so she could see how quickly the scrape had healed after he wiped off the gravel and dirt. “All better, princess. You’re just as strong as daddy, aren’t you?” He kissed her nose and she sniffed as she gave him a nod.

“I suppose her getting a broken arm is one last thing we have to worry about.” You sigh, resting your hand on his shoulder as you both watch her get back up on her bicycle.

“Do you think she’ll be all the way like me?” He asks, unconsciously rubbing the back of his hands as he watches her ride up and down the street.

You look at him with a small smile as you notice the worry in his eyes and you kiss his cheek. “She already is, baby, and I couldn’t be happier about that.” Logan looks down at you and he chuckles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a kiss.

As your little girl gets older, she falls sick and Logan reassures you that the same happened to him at her age. You are by her side all day until Logan returns from work and he stays with her during the night, giving you time to rest and research what could ailing your daughter. “Baby, she doesn’t need that,” Logan insists as you bring in some more cold medicine. “That won’t do anything. This is how it happens.”

You know he’s right, you do, but it doesn’t stop you from worrying. Until one morning, you walk into her bedroom and find that all the lights are on. “Did we leave these on all night, sweetheart? I’m sorry.” You say as you go to turn the switch off only to find that the lights won’t turn off. Your brows furrow and you play with the switch a few more times until your daughter begins giggling.

“Gotcha, mommy!” She laughs before she blinks really hard and the lights go off. You let out a small laugh and hurry to her side, feeling her face to find that her fever is gone and she’s grinning up at you in her usual, happy way.

Logan comes home and is elated to find her singing her songs at the kitchen table while you’re making some muffins. “Are you feeling better, princess?” He asks, lifting her up into a tight hug and kissing her cheek.

“Daddy, watch!” She says, pointing to the oven behind you and you move to the side with a little smirk as you cross your arms and watch the oven light go on and off in tandem with her forced blinks. Logan’s eyes widen and he looks at you for confirmation, you give him a nod, and he laughs.

“See, I told you she’d be fine.” Logan chuckles, kissing your daughter’s cheeks and sighing as he holds her close. “Let’s see what else you can do.” He says quickly as he whisks her away to the rest of the house and you laugh lightly, shaking your head as you turn the oven light off and pull the muffins out without needing an oven mitt.

Logan teaches her how to turn lights on and off with just her mind, without the need to blink as a catalyst. They spend hours outside during a thunder storm because Logan figured out she can redirect the lightening and they both think it’s really cool. He teaches her Morse code with the lights and now that’s how she chooses to communicate when she has a bad day and doesn’t want to talk. Your daughter didn’t get Logan’s claws, instead she got his ability to heal and she didn’t get your heat resistant skin, but the same way you can conduct heat, she can conduct electricity through her hands which pairs with her ability to control existing electricity with her mind.

“You know,” You call from the bathroom at Logan who’s sitting on your shared bed. “She could be a doctor. If someone is declared brain dead, she could create the electrical stimulation to restart their brain.” You tell him as you finish brushing your teeth before shutting the light off and crawling into bed beside him.

“She’s like a walking defibrillator.” He chuckles, his head resting on yours as it lays on his shoulder. “She could knock me out with a high five.” He says in reference to his adamantium skeleton which makes you laugh. “I guess you’ll have to play the bad cop from here on out, mama.” He teases, tickling your side to get you to move off him so he can move on top of you. Your cheeks warm up as he looks lovingly down at you and your fingers lightly scratch through his beard. “Thank you for giving me such a wonderful daughter.”

“Thank you for choosing me to be her mother.” You whisper as you kiss him, smiling against his lips as his hand moves up your thigh. “I can hardly believe she’ll grow up in a new generation of mutants.” You sigh as his lips move down to your neck.

“Hm,” He hums, nipping lightly at your skin as his fingers curls into the waistband of your pajama shorts. “It can be pretty lonely,” He says, kissing down your chest as you hum in agreement, your eyes closed as he sucks gently on the top of your breasts. “She might like a sibling to keep her company.”

I love dad!logan🥹💙

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett fic #logan fluff #wolverine #logan x reader #wolverine fluff #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine

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incidentallysunny · 3 months

Text

I Was Never There.

Death Island Leon x Reader

Real!Dad Leon

Dead dove warning.

13k word count. Proof read 3 times until I got to around 11k then I stopped worrying and just skimmed. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I’d like to appear in the tagz pls so here’s a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing f*cked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don’t be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, daddy-issues, age-gap, overall disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, mentions of oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, any probably some other irrelevant shit I’m forgetting my b.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it’s a long one.

The drive from your college town to where your home had been all your life was as expected. Nostalgia and homesickness being mixed in your gut like a can of paint in one of those weird machines at the hardware store that your dad would take you to. Speaking of dad, you hardly remember him. He was present for a short while, your mom always excusing his absence with work this and work that. He really did get busy, though. Almost dying several times. You still remember your moms panicked phone calls, her countless prescription drugs for the same problems you now suffer from, and her late-night bathroom breakdowns. Apparently he couldn’t get out of this job though. Some real fucked up government shit he was tied to, your mom explained. All you know about him is that he saved the president’s daughter. Whatever.

So yeah- a perfect life with a perfect set of parents. One being mentally driven through the dirt and the other that you haven’t seen in 8 years or maybe more. You can’t seem to remember if the last few times you saw your dad were daisied dreams or reality. Bastard has never FaceTimed or video called you, either. Dunno if he even had a phone capable of that. Either way, it must be for the better, because your grades had been sufficient without stressors on your mind. And we all know a low-effort dad would definitely be one. But perhaps he’d rather just be there in person. Older people are like that.

You grunted, trying to drag your over-packed suitcase up the steep suburban driveway before sighing and standing in place. Sure, you didn’t need to bring so much shit home, but would you really want to risk some bitch at college stealing anything from your quad-dorm?

Before you could think and figure out how you’d even get the plastic luggage up the pristine, hand-painted porch steps and inside (without scratching them up and having your parents on your ass about their perfect house having a flaw) a voice called out to you. Unrecognized and not ringing any of the bells in your head. (If there were any left)

“Hey there, sweetheart. It’s been a while, huh?”

You turned to see a middle-aged man, similar to the last memory of your dad that had been printing-pressed into your mind for safe keeping. He was just emerging from the front door, broad chest accentuated by a well-fitted T-shirt. You immediately felt angry that his tits were bigger than yours. Would probably look better with a bra, too.

You didn’t answer.

Fuck- nerves were getting the better of you. Your palms were slick with sweat and you didn’t know if it was from the building summer humidity or anxiety. Was this normal? No the fuck it wasn’t.

“Uhh.. dad?” You queried- almost certain the gorgeous man at the door was just a hotter, older version of your dad and not actually him. The fuck is wrong with you? You’re getting this worked up over your father? Did college drinking really rewire your brain to be this fucked or is it all of the anxiety meds? Maybe both. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because you rarely saw him and have zero attachment.

“Yeah, it’s me. Your old man. Missed you, kiddo.” There’s a pause for a moment- because you’re not sure why he’s talking so casually as if you see each other every weekend- like it hasn’t been years and years since you’ve seen him.

“Don’t remember me,huh?” He laughs satirically- like you’re supposed to be so sure. It makes you slightly furious and the feeling of anger bubbles up again- replacing any strange thoughts you were having moments ago.

No, my apologies dearest dad. I totally recognize you despite having met you enough times to count on almost two hands.

But the better part of you that managed to exist underneath the scores of problems you had just replied in jest- like someone without said scores of problems. It was best to keep the peace for now.

“You look a little different… sorry.” Is that all you can manage? It’s pitiful the state that your sullied mind is in.

He chuckles, though, like he knows your’re right. The sound is more pleasant and striking when it’s genuine. Makes you feel damp in other areas than just your armpits (thank you, heatwave).

“I suppose there’s truth to that. But It’s alright, sweetheart. I know it’s been a long time. People change, right?” His eyes scan you in an undecided way.

“But you, shit. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. College treating you well?” His words sound a little huffed then, he’s clearly beating around the bigger issue with a stick. But him calling you beautiful and being all fucking sappy makes your face feel hot and sticky like it’ll melt off. Got you wanting to rip the hair from your scalp to hear him say it again.

“Please?” You called out gently- gesturing to the suitcase and ignoring any other question. You were very much overstimulated- having overexerted muscles in your arms by being a weak bitch about a crammed carry-on. Just get your ass out here and help your daughter, thanks.

He shook his head- again laughing hotly while looking down as he stepped off the porch- his brown bangs were peppered with greys and they brushed his face on one side, his hair somehow pornographic on its own. Christ. He looked like one of those men you saw on Viagra commercials that obviously didn’t actually need it. Even the sight of your perfectly trimmed lawn and faux-looking home completed the scene. Where was the camera?

He walked over to you- there was a slight stiff in his stride; like he had a bad back or something. Maybe he did. Almost dying was the likely cause for that. Serves him right for leaving you with issues on top of issues. Maybe you should stop being mean, you’re the one getting hot over your own father. Again- because of him. Circle back to square one.

Leon towered over your frame as he hinged at the hips, picking up the suitcase with ease- the muscles in his arm flexed with each small movement. His face was a tinge of smug with a mix of something else…satisfaction? Maybe he was just pleased he was able to lift it without rupturing a hernia. Jesus Christ, his veins. You wonder if he has them anywhere else. No- maybe you should be wondering about taking your ass to an inpatient facility immediately. A few screws are loose and you don’t exactly have the tools to tighten them.

“I guess college did treat you well. You’re here in one piece.” He says- cutting you thickly from your thoughts and answering his own question from earlier. His blue eyes are sweet and gently lined with signs of aging. Which only makes him hotter- just like the fiery pits of hell that await you.

You scoff.

“Well, it’s not like I went to war or something.”

“Still. It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.” The word rolls off his tongue again. Your insides are trapezing around in their own miniature, fleshy circus- you’re wishing you could stab yourself in the stomach to stop the swarm of butterflies that don’t even feel metaphorical anymore. You’re sure they’re real now.

He continues, though.

“I know I haven’t been around much in your life- this fucking job and-“ You stare up at him- glossy doe-eyes and stupid look on your face. An apology- or even an explanation from your daddy might be part of what your scrambled brain needs.

“Work kept me away, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you every day. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. Shit… What I mean to say, is- things will be different. I’ve retired. Your mother wanted me to tell you over dinner later but I figured you’d be happy to know. I’m not the best at keeping secrets.” He jokes at the end, but how is that true in the slightest? He’s kept his job a secret for your entire life, so he clearly can’t be that horrible at it.

“Oh.” Leaves your lips quietly, ghosting over Leon and leaving him wondering if he said something wrong. But then he realizes it’s probably just overwhelming for you. The worst part of him thinks you hate him. A feeling overcomes you though, and you rush in to wrap your arms around his waist- hugging him tightly. You now wonder why he didn’t hug you to begin with. Maybe he wasn’t an affectionate guy.

He says nothing at first- he’s even more awkward than you are if it’s possible. But he’s trying. He sets down your suitcase before returning your hold. One arm comes around the back of you and the other is overlapped on top- a hand nestling on the back of your head. Seems he’s getting a bit emotional, too. The attention from him is nice, though.

When you make a small grunt as to wanting to end the hug, his hands linger on your shoulders and he smiles at you. You actually return to, not feeling anything horrid become of your thoughts right now. Whether it be anger or incestual lust.

—

Your dad pushes the front door open with one of his large hands encased on the knob. Hands you immediately find attractive, wondering if they’d feel nice scissoring your cunt open. You now begin to understand why your mom was getting suicidal over him possibly not returning home. You’d kill yourself over him too. But that’s too morbid- especially after the moment you just shared.

That’s already lost to you.

He shut the door firmly, sighing, then gestures to the stairs.

You went up first, self conscious about your backside being right in front of his view but he was your dad. Wouldn’t be looking at you that way. You’re just brain-rotted and have an ill opinion of men.

Your old bedroom still looked the same, basically. Just emptier and more hollow without your things. But the walls were still painted a babydoll-pink and lined with the few girlish decorations you left on the wall. No way you would have been caught dead with those in your dorm. Not unless you wanted to endure torment and bullying that’d lead you to jumping off the dormitory roof.

He sets your luggage down and takes a seat on your bed. A groan escapes him as he puts a hand on his lower back for a moment.

“I see this room hasn’t changed much, has it?” he muses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Your mom and I had a blast putting it together for you when she was pregnant.”

Yikes. You almost feel guilt for both the incestuous thoughts and the fact you may have ruined your parents' marriage. Maybe that’s not true. It was his work- not you. After all, he’s insinuating how happy they were to have you brought into this world. Plus- they were fine. Never argued or anything.

“I’m sorry. I dont- I don’t know what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, throwing your hands slightly up by your side.

His face doesn’t drop, though. It seems he understands perfectly fine.

“It’s okay. We can start from scratch. Not talk about… your room or childhood stuff. I know it’s a sore spot for you, sweetheart.”

Wrong. It’s more like a festering wound with the rusted knife still wedged in it. The knife being Leon and the wound your daddy issues, by the way. And having no attachment to him as a father figure makes the attraction worse. Notably when he calls you any term of endearment. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

What the fuck. Was he sculpted by Satan himself as some kind of hell-on-earth punishment? Is this purgatory? Everything he did now was driving you up the wall like a roach- every movement and small flex showing a vein or bulge of muscle. And his arm hair didn’t help. Fucking Christ- shave it off or something. You don’t know how you’ll be able to stand it.

“Okay…. How does that work?” You cocked your head to the side a little, shifting your weight onto one leg. A nervous habit.

“Well- what do most parents do with their kids? We could go out for dinner, catch a movie, just… hang out. I’d like to spend time with my daughter, you know.”

Okay, so maybe he did care. That’s a start.

“Uh… all three?” You questioned, an eyebrow lifting along with the infliction of your voice towards the end of your sentence. You’re indecisive like your mom.

He smiled, lines and the corners of his mouth pressed. Happy. Something you heard wasn’t common for him, anyways.

“Of course. We can go out tomorrow, honey. Your mom just wants us to all have dinner together when she gets home. She missed you- not as much as I did, I bet.” He does that stupid fucking wink again. It makes you switch emotions and want to throw something at his head. Maybe your lamp. You feel bad, It’s not his fault you’re acting like a mental freak about him. You don’t even bother to fixate on the fact you’ll have to have dinner with your cunt of a mom. Okay, maybe that’s harsh.

“Okay.” You breathe out, looking around your room. Leon takes that as a cue to stand up from your old bed- the thing creaking from his weight and leaving an indent on your comforter.

“It’s a date, then. I’m going to start dinner. As much as I love your mother, she can be…scary.” He says, still rocking that pressed-in-cheek smile and cracking your door closed behind him. By the way, what he really meant was probably ‘bitchy’- not scary. But dad seems too kind to say that. He loves your mom.

You can breathe again without his presence. It was smothering, like you had to overperform. You find yourself rushing to your dresser mirror to check how you looked. Hair looks great, face too- though a little tired from college over-studying and then driving 4 hours home with no break.

You might as well write ‘whore’ on your mirror with lipstick. Or a marker- since that’s a more permanent reminder with the way you’re acting. But part of you wanted to know what he thought of you- how he perceived you. For now though, it doesn’t matter. Had barely been 15 minutes since you arrived. You turn your attention to your suitcase and push it over flat, unzipping it before the teeth give out and some of your things spill from inside.

You had less than a sufficient amount of energy to care about it being broken now- so you just put your things away quickly before plopping onto the bed and indulging your senses with the smell of the floral detergent your mom always used on your sheets.

—

It’s some time later when you’re abruptly awoken by your moms manicured hand shaking you awake by the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping when you could be spending time with your father. He was excited for you to be home.”

‘Way to wake me up.’ You thought. She was always having a stick up her ass about this kind of thing. Or anything, really..

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Besides, we’re going out tomorrow to do a bunch of stuff.” You argue sleepily, sitting up as your back aches with your vision still adjusting. She cuts on the lamp, sizzling your retinas.

Her face perks up but is pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, okay..” silence.

“I’m sorry, honey. It was just a long day at work and I’m just over-the-moon for you two to finally have some daddy-daughter time.”

You wrinkle your face in disgust, but not fully disgust since you were just fawning over your hot dad earlier. Maybe daddy doesn’t sound so bad.

“Ew- mom. He’s just my dad. I’m not five.” She laughs, waving her hand off at you.

“Well anyhow- come down for dinner, will you? He put in a lot of effort to cook something for us.”

You cursed under your breath and straighten out your shirt- hoping she wouldn’t bitch about it being slightly wrinkled from you sleeping in it. You seat yourself at the table- adjacent from your mother sitting at the end. She’s already changed out of her office clothes and sure enough, here comes your daddy dad from the kitchen with utensils.

“Sorry ladies- almost forgot these.” He laughs, placing down everyone’s set before seating himself next to you. Fuck.

“You know- your father has only been home a few months and he’s already shown the extent of his memory loss.” She jokes, giving him a loving yet teasing look that makes you want to vomit. And yet jealousy curls up like a cat in your lap, wanting to be lavished with attention from you. The metaphorical jealousy pounces off your lap as you’re met with your dad’s hand on your denim-clad thigh. It’s an innocent gesture but you want to his hand to go further than just sitting politely.

“She’s right, but I can be useful otherwise.” He’s bantering back with her- and you realize he’s making an innuendo when you look over at his face. But it’s weird that he’s saying it while his digits cradle your thigh so gently.

“Gross.” You take a bite of your food- momentarily shocked that a dad of any sort could make such a pleasant meal, especially when he’s spent such little time doing domestic duties.

“Oh honey- you’re grown. We’re just teasing each other.” Your mom nods to Leon, taking a bite off of her fork. His hand slides off of your thigh and he grabs his whiskey glass to take a proper sip.

Jeez, he drinks that shit like its water. No grimacing. No face was made when he swallowed it. Just a guy thing you suppose.

Dinner drags on- the both of them forcing you to talk about your less-than-thrilling college experience. No mom, no boyfriend. No dad, I’m not failing. No you two, I’m not having unprotected sex- fuck off.

After that eventful meal and conversation where your parents basically eye-fucked each other over dinner, you’re left to clean up the mess while your mom gets ready for bed. She has to leave for work early in the morning- as usual. Guess she’s going to take your dad’s spot for the absent parent now that you’re grown and traumatized full and proper.

Sleep came and went- leaving you to trudge out of bed and do your morning routine. It felt out of place trying to do it back at home- but it was also a sentimental feeling to be doing just that.

Leon is already in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking. Seems impractical, but holy fuck. You’d gorilla glue your eyelids open just to not miss a single second of what you’re seeing. Maybe that wasn’t needed- because you've been staring long enough that your eyes prick with tears. You remind yourself to blink and you seat yourself at the high-top, the stool swiveling slightly when your bottom meets the material.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He asks, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His traps are distracting you. You want to chew your fingernails past the nail bed- bite a finger off too. You can’t stand it. For a moment- the way he talks to you- you’re pretending you’re not his daughter. And then a moment later, you’re not being delusional anymore.

“Mhm.” You mumble sleepily- wishing you’d have stayed in bed longer. But piercing morning light, lack of blackout curtains, and the chirping of birds outside made that idea inconceivable. Leon chuckled to himself- turned away from you.

You decide to scroll through your phone for a moment’s time before he slides a plate to you from across the island.

“Breakfast a la Leon.” He says- clearly being silly. Corny as fuck, anyways.

“You’re old.” You snort, setting aside your phone and grabbing a fork to pick at your food until he turns away again. You didn’t enjoy the idea of having a hot, shirtless man watching you eat.

He shakes his head, sitting down next to you at the island.

Christ. Fucking go away. It’s actually enraging now.

You want to scream at him- it’s irrational and crazy- but you do. Screaming at him and being sent away to a ward sounds more appealing than the anxiety crawling up your spine like a horde of fire ants. Potentially- just like the butterflies- they’re real too.

He seems undisturbed as he settles- taking a bite. You do the same- trying to ignore the fact he's so close you can nearly feel his arm hair touching you every second or so. He breaks the silence after a moment.

“So- after this, I’ve got a whole day planned out. Mall, movies, and dinner. Sound good?” You nod, a soft ‘mhm’ reverberating on the roof of your mouth.

He finishes before you and makes his way upstairs- the occasional pain in his back unmistakeable every few steps. And yet he wants to take you to the mall to walk around? You didn’t even know how to feel about a day with your dad. What’s a dad? What’s daddy-daughter bonding? That’s lost to you- well- more like it was never even discovered. Not even Columbus could have ventured out and conquered it.

Since he’s no longer in the room, you hastily eat the rest of your breakfast before you discard the plate and fork into the way-too-elaborate dishwasher your mom had installed (you totally didn’t spend 10 minutes trying to turn it on).

Back in your room, you settle on a simple, totally not underlyingly slutty outfit. Shorts and a crop top. Can never go wrong with that. It’s just soft/core prom enough for an outing with your dad. When you leave your room- Leon is just headed down the stairs. He turns to look at you, his smile is as jovial as it has been since you’ve seen him. For a moment though, you think you catch his eyes landing on your exposed legs- but you know you’re just crazy. You’re the one lusting after him, not the other way around. Your dad isn’t abnormal like you. His head is on correctly- even if it’s been battered and spun on his shoulders throughout the years.

“Ready?” He asks, stopping in place to wait for you. You nod stupidly, breaking from your trance to follow him in a descent down the stairs.

He’s dressed similar to how he was yesterday- jeans and a t-shirt that should be considered indecent. If you were your mom, you’d beg him to wear something that doesn’t highlight every curve and dip of his chest. Hell, if you were your mom, you’d never let him go outside. Too risky. But you’re not your mom. You’re just unusual.

As a perfect man does, he opens the door for you. Then opens the SUV door, allowing you in before shutting it behind. You’re sure you've never met a guy that does that in real life, but maybe it was a ‘you’ problem and not the guy. Who knows.

When he gets in, he cranks the vehicle only for rock music to start playing from the radio- making the corners of his mouth dimple with a pleased look. Really are the simple things for him. As for you, you’re suffocated in a Hellish torment by both his presence and the expensive scent of cologne and leather seats combo.

The ride isn’t long, nor bad. Albeit you two only talk here and there so he can focus on the road- and so you can focus on not dying (he’s not a perfect driver, but not terrible either). Just enough to keep your nerves teetering between a light anxiety attack and full blown panic.

You’re relieved to get there alive. Maybe not. Your thoughts have you thinking suicide may be your only option for now disgusting they are. And it only gets worse when he helps you down from the step up of the SUV- a hand on your exposed waist and the other on your shoulder. It’s harmless. Just a dad being gentlemanly. He was shaped and carved out in that perfect, chivalrous image with only a mallet and hammer. No reason to make it weird.

Inside the mall is a tad busy- the perfect amount to be comforting. You feel a bit more at ease in a public setting since you can now focus on anything but your dad’s chest. As long as he doesn’t require eye contact or talk to you, that is.

He looks around, arms crossed. It’s almost whorish. He has to know his arms look good. Or that his everything looks good. The fuck.

“So…” He cranes his head to the side, bangs brushing over his nose for a moment. The way he looks around makes his Adam’s apple and neck muscles a little more prominent. A perfect, stubbled spot to attack with your lips.

“What do you feel like doing first, kiddo?”

You. Is what you want to say.

He looks back to you, smiling down amused. He seems genuinely happy to be able to take you out. But really- his face is making you nauseous. Obviously not because it’s bad. But because it’s good-bad. Too good it’s bad.

“Uhh… “ you look away from him, scanning the entrance area and looking at any signs. Almost like an escape.

“How about new clothes maybe? Seems like something got ahold to the other half of your pants anyways.” He nudges you with an elbow, gesturing to your shorts with his head.

So he probably did look at your legs earlier. Maybe not in the way you think, though.

You glare at him.

“Seriously?”

Leon puts his hands up in defense. He’s always on the defense in life anyways.

“Joking, joking. You’re…grown.” His forehead lines crease when he raises his brows. You did get rather annoyed at his comment, however.

“I could always buy some even shorter.” You spit sarcastically.

“Yes- because every father wants to walk around with their daughter who has her ass out.” He’s quick to remark, this time he seems grumpier when he talks. Sorta like he’s uncomfortable with the conversation. Or that he’s mad.

“Sorry my legs make you so uncomfortable. I guess I should’ve left them at home.” The back and forth here could go on forever between you two but he catches you off guard.

“Shit- no. It’s not that- ‘s just you’ve got nice legs. Can’t have these…shitheads eying down my little girl. I may be old, but I can fight when I need to.”

You know he meant his words innocently enough, but the fact that he said nice legs has you giddy inside. Same feeling when your crush calls you pretty. Yeah- that sorta feeling. And his little girl. It has a ring to it. Could even legally change your name to it so that he can call you by it more often. Maybe he’ll even let you jump on his dick right away.

Your face is pure rose-shaded. A perfect, neutral shade to make your embarrassment pop on your skin. You’re sure it’s visible to him, too. Your mom always teased you about how blotchy it would get when you were humiliated. Particularly when she would tell awkward stories about you at family dinners. Bitch.

“What’s wrong? Don’t be pissed at me, sweetheart. I was just teasin-“

“It’s not that.” You interrupt- heart thumping into your rib cage. If it doesn’t stop, or you don’t stop your word-vomit, it might crack a rib or four. Probably more. Better have hospital bill and therapy money ready, dad.

“Then what’s the matter? I just want us to have a good time together. I’m not trying to upset y-“

“You said I have nice legs.” You’re quick to cut him off again.

“And…?” He trails off, cocking his head to the side like he’s confused. Because he is confused. You stare off to the side- eyes glued to the fountain. Maybe you could go drown yourself in the penny-flavored water that you guarantee hasn’t been changed out since you were still the unlucky sperm in your dad’s ball-sack.

“I like that. You saying that.” You speak a little lower now- afraid someone will hear. Or because the tinnitus is so loud in your ears. What you’re getting at is almost clear now. Or at least clear enough.

Leon’s expression is taken aback but still confused to an extent because he’s not even certain what you’re saying. Though, he has an idea.

“Oh- uh. Okay. Sweethea-“

“Holy fuck- stop calling me that. You’re not making this easy. Wanting to fuck you. I know- I sound mental.” You spill it out, guts on the floor and the sword still in hand. Holy shit. Just told your dad you want to fuck him. You could have backtracked- fucking dumbass. You won’t be shocked if he packs his bags and leaves off again tomorrow.

He’s silent for a moment.

“Okay- clearly I wasn’t around enough. I get that. But I mean- fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking around. Probably thinking the same thing about the fountain that you did. Still- he looked hot while having a crisis and contemplating immediate suicide. He paces while your nerves are being electrocuted in your body. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Just- sweetheart, no. None of that’s.. I can’t.” He starts, turning back to you. It seems he can look you in the eyes now. So maybe he’s not entirely disgusted by you. His face isn’t contorted with disgust, so there’s a chance. Yeah, you’re off your rocker now. You know.

“Look- let’s not talk about this. C’mon. Let’s go catch a movie like I promised.” He starts walking- leaving you standing in a puddle of shame and embarrassment for a moment before stopping to let you catch up.

Luckily- the theater is joined to the mall. It’ll be a short walk.

—

Leon is lax on the couch until he hears the crunchy sound of tires on concrete. You’re home. Despite his shitty back, he's huffing as he gets up fast and is already opening the door. The air is hot as it greets his skin and he watches you struggle with your suitcase through the heat-haze that spans over the distance.

He calls out to you- making your head snap in his direction. Your face is that of awe and confusion. You don’t seem to immediately recognize him- okay. He gets it. It’s been a while. Nevertheless, you’re beautiful. He’d seen pictures of you from your mother, but he’s in awe just as you are. Though, he doesn’t think that highly of himself so he often wonders if you’re even his kid. Couldn’t have made something that perfect, in his mind. He helps you with your bag and follows you to your room. But your demeanor around him is noticeably mousey. At first, it doesn't seem like much. You’re just getting used to him.

Plus, Leon knows he can come off intimidating. Sometimes. But for him, he’s got a good eye and his job has led him to being able to read even the tiniest bits of body language. Doesn’t take him long to see how you’re worming around shyly- subconsciously smoothing your hair down and biting at your lip. Same way your mom acted around him before they started dating. But again- maybe it’s just in his head. Leon’s been wrong a time or two.

A better man would have left it alone. Leon gets that. But an innocent thigh squeeze at dinner can help him test his theory. A thigh squeeze that’s under the guise of friendly, fatherly touch. You tense- he can hear your small, sucked in breaths as long as his hand is there, along with heat radiating off your body like a wildfire. If wildfires could be horny college-aged daughters with daddy issues, that is.

The idea disgusts him. Because he should feel disgusted and just kill himself. Where did these thoughts come from? He even has the urge to let his hand wander other places. Bets that you have a cute pussy. No matter what it does or doesn’t look like, it’s yours and he knows it's cute. He’d give you two thick digits in your hole (three if you allow him) and have his tongue kitten-lick your clit.

“There we go. Good girl.” Is what he envisions saying before diving back in for a mouth full of you. Girls like you love being praised. Especially by their estranged father-figure or a middle aged man. It’s all the same. He’d pry the daddy issues right out of you with his dick. It’s long and fat enough, and solves all of his matters properly. Your mom is in a bad mood? His dick will fix that. He can’t sleep? His dick will fix that. His daughter is a horny freak and begging for it? His dick will fix that, too- obviously.

It’s only when your mom makes some stupid fucking joke about his memory loss that he snaps back into reality and he loses the momentum he had going for an erection. Which is good. Maybe thinking about fucking your mom will make him normal again. So he drops a quip right back- something about… being useful. Yeah. Again, his cock is useful. Your mom bites at his words, but you’re annoyed and disgusted with his comment- especially with his hand on you while he says it.

Trust me, baby. Much rather be splitting you open than having performative, mandatory spousal sex. It’s like a switch flipped. He’s not interested in your mom. Should’ve had that realization years ago, even. Technically he did. He’s just now saying it in his head finally. Mostly he was exhausted because she had nothing to do with Leon even when he was home (unless it was for dick). Too bad he was a golden retriever following after her every step like a good doggy. Marriage did that to a guy. He just did what he was supposed to. Kept the lights on, blew out her back occasionally, listened to her complain, and took care of the lawn when he could. Easy enough. That’s what men do, right? He doesn’t really know what being a man is, honestly. Thanks, Major Krauser. Anyhow- he chokes down his food with a smile. The need to upchuck after everything he just thought up is a given.

He takes the liberty to fuck your mom later that night as promised per (faux) flirting over dinner. He has her face down-ass up, though. For… imagination’s sake. At least fucking a pussy and imagining you is better than his hand and imagining you. Or so he tells himself. Call it killing two birds with one stone, satisfying your mom and quelling his own desires. And it’s not hard to imagine any of it, because you look so much like your mother. He lies awake for a short while after- contemplating his existence and fucked up thoughts. He’s still holding back vomit and the urge to grab his gun from the nightstand and off himself all over the wallpaper, while in the process, traumatizing your mom. After an hour of this- he figures it’s fine, men think of perverted or weird shit sometimes. Jerk off to weird shit too. He hasn’t technically done anything morally wrong… sort of. It’s denial. At least he’s good at playing the part of a genuine, loving father. Because he is! He loves his family. Always has!

Spending time with you would make you happy, him happy, your mom happy. He loves you dearly. All is great. He’s swearing that his brain won’t be smoothied in his skull by tomorrow. It’ll be normal and function rationally.

But Leon wakes up with the thoughts being real as ever while he stretches an arm out to feel around for your mother- bed empty since she leaves at the ass crack of dawn. Leon had just missed her leave, he’s still getting used to sleeping in ever since he retired.

He gets up and heads downstairs- immediately starting breakfast to take his mind off his…mind. Breakfast is his favorite meal of the day, it makes him feel better to indulge in it right now. Though, he doesn’t bother putting a shirt on at any point- just rocking those generic, green and blue tartan patterned pajama pants. Cooking shirtless is weird- but he’s hungry and part of him wonders if he’ll get to see your priceless face when you walk into the kitchen. He shakes his head- telling himself that he just had this talk with himself last night. None of that shit.

He was right about one thing. God, he could make a killing in betting. He sees your reflection behind him in the small window above the counter but you didn’t know that. Just stood, gawking. It’s okay. He’s observative, you’re not. You’re his dumb little girl. Dumb in the way you shift in your stool next to him when he sits down, dumb how you hold your breath when he’s near, dumb how you can’t even eat next to him, and dumb how your thighs seem to wriggle when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushes yours. Oh, he’s definitely not wrong.

Still- he knows when to back off. He hounds down his food, before you even make a dent in your plate, and heads upstairs to shower. He’s analyzing every detail of himself, contemplating how he can get under your skin the most- his knuckles gripping the sink with distaste for himself. Because it’s wrong. He’s acting like a teenager. This is a date with his daughter, not his highschool girlfriend.

Leon skips over shaving his face. Likes to keep it a little grown out but not too much so. Just in case he gets the chance to eat (your) pussy or kiss (your) a neck. Then comes the Dior ‘Sauvage’ body wash he never failed to keep with him. He takes pride in smelling good if anything. And this particularly expensive wash, plus the cologne, was his lifeline for that. When he traveled for work- the D.S.O. better have god damned had some sent to his room as courtesy. Ever since Raccoon City- he’s adamant about not smelling less than great. He swears he can still smell the sewer on himself sometimes, even if it’s not really there.

His hair routine was even more extensive and involved a weekly hair mask. Hey- it wasn’t wrong for a guy to have nice hair. It paid off.

Heat protectant, blow dry, hot-comb to get any cow licks or fly-aways he might have- though it’s unlikely- and a little spritz of biotin spray to keep it healthy and shiny. All of that in reasonable time, too. And no- it's not weird for him to spend longer on his hair than your mom does.

Besides, you seem to appreciate the way he looks when you come out of your bedroom- watching him descend the stairs. Leon looks back at you- eyes on your legs momentarily then coming back up. He knows it was a quick look- quick enough to make you question it. You do. Very much. Still, taking you out in public wearing those shorts is less than ideal for him, but he’s the one who needs to be watched closely. Aforementioned, Leon’s great at pretending. Pretending to be normal. Pretending to not have ulterior motives. Pretending to not want your legs on his shoulders as he-

“All ready?” He interrupts himself here. Can’t let his thoughts keep going too far. Even if he does want to rest a hand on your leg while he drives. Or veer off the road and into a tree so that he can’t continue to be disgusting. He’d die with the image of being a good, wholesome dad in everyone’s mind. And if you did or didn’t die too, at least you would have died not having been fucked silly by your old man. He manages to not kill you both, though. He wasn’t planning to- his driving is just ass. He knows whiskey with his breakfast isn’t ideal but when you’re a recovering alcoholic plus post traumatic stressed failure of a father, it helps.

Can’t complain though since he gets to put his hands on you while helping you out of the vehicle.

Now you’re both in the mall- Leon questioning what exactly he’s supposed to do now. He hasn’t been to one since… he doesn’t have enough fingers for that. But you’re seemingly calm. Until he makes a stupid joke about your shorts. Sure. As much as he’s thinking about ripping a hole in the crotch to fuck you cause he’s impatient and stupid- he said it out of genuine concern.

He still has fatherly instinct. Some sick bastard could get a glimpse of your exposed legs and go jerk off to it or take a photo. Ironic coming from him right now. The call is coming from inside the house but the dad is too busy fiending after his own daughter to answer.

You’re royally pissed. He knows it. Women don’t like having it insinuated that they’re dressed like a whore. Big whoop, though. Someone has to say it. Then you blindside him. Big, needy eyes and saying you like it when he tells you your legs are nice. Then something about how you want to fuck him. Christ. What the fuck. He’s not sure if this is some kind of screwy set-up or you’re actually just so slutty that the only dick you’ll accept is your dad’s. He’s rocking a semi now. Would be a full hard-on if he weren’t in public but his head spins cause all the blood went to his loins too fast.

Leon doesn’t accept the advances yet. Not now, anyways. He’s mortified. He really thought he had himself going in delusion about how you were behaving- but he was actually right. And now being confronted with it… he’s fucking scared - that’s for sure. Hmm. Be a morally acceptable human or fuck your needy, whore daughter silly? He shakes his head and lets out an exhale.

That question needs some thought. No, it doesn’t. He knows better than to do any of that shit, right? He takes a moment to start walking while you follow along shamefully- the two of you headed to the theater. A movie is perfect. Don’t have to talk or anything. No interacting, really. But how the fuck is he just going to forget what you said? Sure, he’s been having questionable thoughts but they’re just thoughts. Your words, however, spoke it into existence. Like a fucked up, frankenstein’s monster of father-daughter reality.

Don’t mind us, everyone. Daughter’s got it real bad for me but I’m just going to take her to the movies and pretend it’s normal. Reality was distorted for him ever since the existence of zombies and BOWs anyway.

He lets you pick the movie- telling the attendant that he needs two tickets. It’s a horror movie. Of course. Something to trigger his PTSD, maybe. Then he could say anything he did after that was just accidental. A mental slip. He goes to fork over the $60 for tickets and popcorn- god, when did shit get so expensive? As he’s pulling out the cash, he sees you give him a look like you want to say something. His mind is racing looking at you- it makes him nervous.

“Uh.. what about candy?” You ask, looking away from him and at the display.

“What? Sour worms?” He questions you, laughing. Not in a mean way- but because it’s your favorite. So insignificant but he remembers. You were still a kid when he and your mom took you to see some milked out children’s movie that was a part of an entirely too long series. He bought you two boxes of sour worms then. You were a weird kid, though. The worms were split into two colors, and you’d always bite them down the middle and make him eat the side you didn’t like. But he’d do it. Gladly.

You nod, a little befuddled that he’d remember something like that. Cute. Too bad your weird ass just told him you wanted to fuck him about 15 minutes ago. So not entirely a cute moment.

“Oh- and two boxes of Sour Worms, please.” He adds, now pulling out a little more cash.

You both respectively grab your own drinks- Leon with popcorn in tow and you, your worms and cherry soda. His hands are full but he manages to flash the movie ticket between his index and middle finger to the usher, who then ripped it in half and pointed to the left end of the hallway.

You both don’t say anything, but you immediately race to the very top row like a child once inside the screening. Leon swears under his breath as he follows you like a geriatric snail. If a snail could have lumbar issues. He’s able to make it up the stairs to you quite some time after and takes the seat next to you that’s closest to the aisle. Safety and all that jazz.

Previews are already playing so it gives him peace of mind to not address the awkwardness between the two of you. Your soda is in the cup holder that’s separating you both, but you lean over to take a sip, cheeks hollowed out while you drink. Of course Leon looks over, fuck.

Pretty little lips wrapped around the straw until you pull off of it with a satisfied sigh. Cause you were thirsty from anxiety- like someone shoved gauze and cotton into your mouth.

He shifts in his seat and looks back at the screen. He doesn’t even know if you’re doing it on purpose. You’re not, however. He’s just a perverted dickhead.

Time passes and not a single soul has come into this screening. It’s Monday at 11am, after all. Who the hell would come watch a horror movie at this time? No one except two fucking weirdos. It’s making Leon’s nails dig into the armrest with the other set scratching at his jeans.

The movie doesn’t start off bad, to Leon’s shock. He’s actually enjoying it and you seem just as entranced, pulling open the box of Sour Worms without looking down. You do wind up looking down, however, to bite one in half because it just so happened to be a blue and orange combo, and you hated the orange side.

“Here.” Leon turns to look at you- your eyes coming up to meet his blue ones that are oddly blue enough to the point that any light from the screen makes them pop. Pretty.

“The orange half. I know you don’t like them.” His voice is husky and low since the speakers are blaring some generic string-quartet horror piece. He nods down to the half chewed candy in your palm.

You pinch it between your fingers, bringing it to his mouth as your cunt throbs. He was expecting you to hand it to him, but the way you confidentially yet instinctively brought it to his lips isn’t entirely unwelcome. The emptiness of the theater makes it that way. Allows room for incest of whatever. He opens his mouth for you, and you go to place the sour treat on his tongue. His lips gently close around it, before he grabs your wrist to hold your arm in place. A hold gentle enough to tell you that if you want to snatch your hand away- feel free to do so. But you don’t. And you won’t. He knows.

Candy in cheek, he brings your fingers to his lips and nurses your knuckles with a kiss before puppeteering your hand with his larger one, working each digit so that he can equally suck each one clean. You’re amazed, aroused, and alarmed all at the same time. Amazed because he looks so gorgeous sucking on your fingers. Aroused for the obvious reason. Alarmed because duh, he’s your father and things can only go further from here.

Leon places your hand back onto the arm rest between you, chewing the halved sour worm now. As if he didn’t just give you the most visually appealing form of sexual affection in the history of womankind. The dryness of your mouth returns and you take another sip of your Cherry soda. Maybe you can drown yourself in it. No, stupid. That’s what the public bathroom toilets are for.

Right before you set the plastic cup into the cupholder again, Leon speaks.

“Ah, ah. Put it over there.” You don’t even hesitate to listen. Record timing for you doing anything. You don’t even know why you followed his instructions so quick.

“Good girl.” His words send lightning of excitement down your nerves and straight to your clit as he pushes the armrest between you upwards and out of the way. Because that’s a thing, for some reason. It’s like theaters want people to fuck, give head, and spread their diseases everywhere. And why does he know they move? You don’t even want to question it. Maybe he’s just a knowledgeable guy.

“Come here, honey. Let daddy kiss that pretty mouth.” Fucking Christ. This can’t be real. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause again, there’s zero hesitation on your part. Leon likes that. A woman that can follow orders. He’s so used to taking them, not giving them. And your mom isn’t one to listen to other people. Either way, if this goes south, Leon can always just off himself. He wasn’t around much so what difference would it make if he was permanently gone? The reassurance of being able to log out forever gives him courage here. It’s rational.

You scoot over since you’re free from any barriers or restrictions, and he puts an arm over you. You swear you almost hear your skin sizzle from the contact. You’re not a witch- and as far as you know, he’s not water. Even if he gets you wet. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and swipe a thumb over your bottom lip- teasing you.

“D-dad.” You stutter a protest- cringing that you sounded the way you did just now. Maybe you shouldn’t be embarrassed ‘cause he’s your dad- but you are embarrassed ‘cause he’s hot. You can’t even figure out why you wanna back out suddenly. Probably because the idea was better than betraying your mom and knowing yourself as someone who fucks their dad. Anywho- didn’t he say something about kissing you? Cause he’s not even doing as promised.

Your dad leans in, his free hand is now on your neck and angling it just to show you how easy he can manhandle your body. He plants a kiss on your earlobe before saying anything.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t go giving daddy blue-balls now. It’s not polite to start things you don’t wanna finish.”

Leon’s words simultaneously gross you out and turn you on in a self-deprecating, disgusting kind of way. Not to mention he’s literally contradicting himself since he would gladly eat the half of the sour worms you didn’t want to finish- therefore entirely enabling you to start things you couldn’t finish. Hm. That must explain a large portion of your life, then. And besides all do that, doesn’t the know blue-balls is some kinda stupid myth or whatever?

His thumb falls down your lip and traces your jawline with intentional slowness while his eyes look over your face appreciatively- but it also seems as if he’s looking for or at something specific.

You get the courage to speak, air sucked fully into your lungs.

“Sorry, daddy.” The fuck is wrong with you? You could have said anything but that. It’ll only spur him on. But you want that, obviously.

He smirks, lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth do that same, pitted thing they do that you like so much. Must go hand in hand with how his chin is also dimpled. It’s sexy. But little do you know, it’s one of the reasons he keeps his stubble. Doesn’t feel like having his butt chin on display to the world- even if every woman that’s ever laid eye on him sees it and wants it buried in their cunt.

“That’s my girl. Didn’t even have to be around much to teach you that, did I?” Leon queries, grabbing your chin to crane your head just so that he can plant his lips onto your neck. His other hand is on your knee, unmoving. You want it to move, though. God- you’re sure whatever higher power is in the great sky is throwing up right now, moments away from pressing the reset button. The same higher power will make a new rule on humanity.

No free will and absolutely no incest. Yeah. Probably should have written that into the books ages ago, one fears.

You fidget as he kisses your neck, stubble scratching your epidermis yet tickling all the same.

“Not gonna answer me, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your throat, the neck kiss he gives it uses a bit of tongue- making your body jolt. “I know your mother taught you manners.”’

You mumble something pathetically apologetic, hands gripping the fabric over his shoulders. Hopefully your mom won’t notice his shirt being stretched out there- cause she notices everything.

“N-no, daddy. I knew it on my own.” You huff, that hand you wanted him to move is slowly doing so- fingers dragging along your inner thigh as if everything he’s doing to you is purposefully meant to be some kind of forewarning. But for what, exactly?

“Such a smart girl. Get that from daddy, you know it?” Ok, cocky…

Leon kisses his way back up your neck, jawbone, and then your cheek. It’s sweet- if being lavished with saccharine, sexual and inappropriate attention from your dad could be sweet.

You nod, feeling his grip loosen from your chin and now sliding up the back of your neck to tangle in your hair, threading it. He’s slow and deliberate- part of you wishes he’d not give you time to think about your actions. Not that you can really think anyways. Your heartbeat is muddled in your ears and the movie is still rumbling through the speakers while someone gets murdered on screen. Lucky them.

The hand on your thigh presses firmer into the skin just below the edge of your shorts, a silent telling for you to keep your attention on him.

“Sorry baby, daddy got distracted. Just so pretty.” He must be able to tell you’re impatient because he kisses your cheek (with an oddly dark undertone to it) before slimming the distance between your lips. He pauses right when they touch and you’re breathing in the taste-turned-scent of the sour worm you fed him earlier. Sugar and that weird orange flavor that is only specific to orange candy. You’re obviously not a fan, but it suits him.

You don’t get any time left to process before it’s a full on kiss- well, make out, actually. It’s slow. You can’t recall being kissed like this, ever. Normally it’s straight to tongue with guys, and not in, like, the good way. The ‘having an eel invading your oral cavity’ kind of way. Eugh.

But your dad’s tongue does brush yours, tastefully. You can actually feel the texture and it’s easy to tell there’s an erection fueling his actions- but not so much so that it takes over the whole kiss.

He uses your hair to pull you closer, teeth clashing momentarily. Not exactly the best feeling but everything else envelops your senses to the point that it’s only a flash of a moment. Your thigh is neglected by his touch, hand moving up and around onto your backside. He gives a squeeze to the fat of your ass and groans against your mouth before pulling you into his lap- legs folded on either side of his thighs.

You break the kiss, looking over your shoulder and to where the entrance is- the exit sign casting a nearby glow that gives you anxiety..

“Can’t- we’ll get caught.” You pant, that weird feeling that’s the grotesque love child of nervousness and excitement is swimming in your gut like a parasite before settling. The severity and realness of the situation sinks in.

Leon laughs low and mean, retracting his hand from your hair and moving to run it through the top of your scalp to push it back. He juts his hips upwards to prod his denimed erection into the cunt of your shorts. You mewl quietly, or maybe it was loud. The movie is just too deafening to distinguish which.

“Suppose you’re right, baby.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, leaning in to give you a light peck on the lips. “Told you you’re a smart girl, didn’t I? Can’t let me go around thinking with my dick, huh?”

His hand pats your thigh as if to tell you to get off.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Up.” He commands you with a huffed voice- not because he’s annoyed but because he’s a middle-aged man. Moving is hard. You ignominiously climb off of his lap, putting your bottom back onto the seat next to him. He’s looking at you, meandering a hand back onto your thigh just to rest in place.

You stare at the screen- but you can’t even register it because you’re too disassociated from what just happened. You almost want to beg him to fuck you right here- plead for forgiveness that you suggested stopping in the first place. And you can still taste that damned orange sour worm in your mouth.

Leon behaves, though. He’s good about that. Respectful. In the way of consent- not in the way of not tongue fucking his daughter in a public space. When the movie ends, he gestures for you to stand and you walk past him, carrying your empty cup and boxes of sour worms while the uncomfortable feeling of your slick clinging the gusset of your panties to your cunt. You look back at your father, the sight of him in the palely lit theater is a bit intimidating. He’s adjusting his pants for obvious reasons. You look away quickly and keep walking- a giddy feeling of satisfaction overcoming you. Shortly enough, you’re both back in the main area of the mall. You brush your shirt out and fix your hair- the thought occurs to you that maybe you look a little mussed and should have straightened up sooner.

But the daylight beaming through the sky roof brings you back to your senses.

“Hmm. What does my sweet girl want to get up to now?” Leon asks, intersecting his arms as he looks over you.

You think, mind fizzling as it short circuits. You almost smell smoke emanating from your head, too. How can you look him in the face right now?

“Uhh..” You really don’t know what to say. What can you focus on doing after everything that’s happened today?

“How about this? We can go home a little early and I’ll cook something up for lunch. The drive will give us time to work up an appetite.” He says, nonchalant. Right back to his same fatherly tone from earlier today instead of the ‘I want to split you open with my dick’ tone he had moments ago. Maybe he’s just being sweet and you’re overthinking.

You’re befuddled that he’s not saying anything else about… that. How can he so easily go from publicly groping you to acting cheery and normal? It’s frustrating. Disturbing even. Leon can see the disappointment on your face- but you don’t know that. You assume it’s well hidden, just like the fact you kissed your own father. He thinks it’s cute though. You’re just cock dumb for him. On the other hand, this whole situation is something he has to deal with.

“Got it.” You manage to say, walking a little faster than he does. This is the second time you’ve walked off from your dad, and it does irritate him because he can’t keep up like he used to. Displaced disc in his spine or whatever. Plus, he thinks you’re pissed. Which is worrying. Should have known better than to mess around with his own daughter, he supposes.

The drive back is silent and less terrifying than the previous, part of you thankful. Maybe he was only a bad driver in the morning. Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe it was the fact that he drank whiskey with his breakfast. Hm. ‘Responsible’ in hindsight.

It’s still early in the afternoon when you arrive back home. The concrete is sizzling from the heat and the sun beats down way too uncomfortably for even a walk from the driveway to the front door.

Leon side-steps you to unlock the house before he urges you in. He may be morally reprehensible but he still didn’t want to let any cool air out- AC’s expensive. You plop down on the couch and he locks the door, walking past you and straight to the kitchen.

The tension is thick for you- but for Leon- not at all. You watch him disappear through the doorway as he goes to prep food. Why is it so hard to read his emotions? He’s like a fucking light switch. You’re annoyed- leaning back on the couch, until he calls for you. You’re quick to get up, scrambling into the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart. Mind giving me a hand?”

“Yeah. What is it?” You faintly cock your head to the side.

Leon looks to the side- directly at you. You’re cute when you’re confused. He can tell that all you’re thinking about is continuing where you two left off earlier. Shit, you’re no better than your mother. ‘S just that you’re not crabby and sour all the time like she is.

“Can you grab the saucepan from the bottom cabinet. Your old dad can’t exactly bend over too well.” He laughs- shaking his head. Yes, dad. I get it. I know you have a bad back.

You walk over to the cabinet where he’s leaned onto one hand which is rested on the marbled countertop. You feel a bit apprehensive to be close to him again. Mostly because you don’t trust yourself to not jump his bones, but Leon’s already ahead of you. As soon as you bend over, he pulls you back by the hips so that your ass is flush with his groin.

You’re taken aback but definitely not surprised. He’s a dirty old man, as you’ve learned.

“Gonna let daddy fuck this pussy now, or are you getting flaky on me?” He coos against your ear while he runs his hands up your sides and down again- creeping his hands to your front and over the buttons of your shorts- unhooking them through the slits.

“Yes.. want it.” You breathe in quick- the word coming out on its own. If god could hear you right now, he’d set your house ablaze with lightning.

“Need you to loosen up if I’m going to. You’re way too stiff.” Your shorts are the opposite of you, loose and unfastened fully so they fall to your ankles, and Leon nudges your feet apart with his boot. You realize he’s got a point as you feel his calloused hand glide down your hip and yank you in place. The other hand is spreading your pussy lips apart before finding that fleshy bud between them. A moan rumbles in your throat as your legs almost give out below you. He mutters a curse under his breath, and you realize his cock is now out while he rubs up against your ass- getting off on not only playing with your pussy but from dry humping you.

“Fucking christ. Got the prettiest ass, baby. Think daddy needs to see it bouncing on his cock.” You can practically feel that stupid, smug look as he grabs his dick- slapping it on your ass. It makes you cringe a little, but maybe you should be cringing at the fact your dad is the one doing it. You figure it’s just something he saw in porn, so it doesn’t leave your expectations high at the moment. Great. Leon adjusted himself back into his pants, for now.

His finger continues circling that bundle of nerves, your legs shaky as you’re being pressed into the counter, a hand is on your lower back to keep you down so he can do what he wants. You sound stupid- tears welling in your eyes as you babble nonsensically about wanting to cum. He moves his hand off of your back and sinks to his knees to be face level with you (even if it makes his back hurt a little), sliding his fingers up your inner thigh until there’s a digit prodding your hole, slowly pushing in.

He watches your cunt swallow his finger, barely able to fit it inside.

“Fucking shit, baby. Gonna have to stretch this pussy out if I want my cock in you, huh? Think you can let daddy do that?” He asks, breathy and sounding like he’s trying not to bust all over himself.

You eagerly shake your head.

“Yes, daddy. Need you to get me loose.” The words spill like a hot cup of tea from your lips, scalding Leon with desire.

“God damned. Such a polite fucking girl I’ve got. Might have to eat your mother out later to thank her for making you so respectful.”

You scrunch your face in disgust.

“That’s fucking gross.” You moan, Leon slipping a second finger into you, which should technically feel like four with how worn and big his hands are.

He tuts, planting a kiss to your asscheek.

“Now, didn’t daddy just compliment you? Could be a bit more grateful since he’s trying to make you cum” He grits, sounding a bit (terrifyingly) stern.

You apologize again.

“Sorry, daddy. Just don’t wanna hear about you and mom. Makes me jealous.” You admit, briefly thinking about their dinner conversation last night. Then about how fucking weird you are. You’re really hoping you get the courage to bash your head on the marble countertop and get amnesia.

Leon laughs, but in a way that makes you think he’s amused more than actually laughing.

“God. Want me to stop fucking my own wife just ‘cause you’ve got a needy pussy?” A third finger slips in, making an almost unbearable stretch as you feel a slight ache, but the previous two fingers already did enough work that it’s not completely unbearable.

“Maybe you’re not that grateful. Giving you three fingers here and she’s still too tight.” He twists his hand, letting the inside of you feel every inch of his knuckles and calluses. Your knuckles, however, are ghost-white as you grip at nothing.

“Maybe your fingers are just too small.” You say- mostly from built up tension and annoyance that you didn’t get to let out yet. But you regret the words.

He’s silent- which scares you. He pulls his fingers out of you- the stark contrast in emptiness is clear and the cool air stings you.

Leon groans as he stands up, kicking off his boots before yanking you by the arms to stand straight. He leans into your ear.

“C’mon. You’re gonna come sit on daddy’s dick, since you’re too fucking picky.” Goosebumps form all over you as he leads you to the couch. Leon leaves you standing there so he can get comfortable and discard his clothing, lying back with his hands behind his head. You make a mental note of how his biceps look with his arms bent in this position, even if you kinda feel like it’s lazy. But holy fuck, his toned stomach is perfect- sprinkled with a happy trail that will definitely lead you somewhere that will make you happy. Speaking of, his dick is nice. Fat. Not sure how big it is since you have not much to compare to, but you’d imagine taking it would be a bit of a proper challenge.

You step a little closer- crawling awkwardly over his lap- ass faced towards him so that you settle on his waist. It’s hard not to feel self conscious about your backside in this position, even considering the fact that he was just fingering you from the back moments ago. You’re mostly just upset you can’t gawk at his tits or stomach.

You grab him by the base, shifting yourself to hover directly over him, letting the tip graze your wet hole before slowly sinking down- a drawn out moan escaping you.

“Fuckkk. That’s it. Sit down on it. Take all of daddy.” You glance over your shoulder as you bottom him out; his eyes are half-lidded. Well, at least he’s got a pretty face while you’re fucking him. You almost failed to realize his hands moved from behind his head to your ass- gliding up your back and down again.

You take a moment to adjust, breathing shakily ‘cause his dick is so fat you think you might die. Or maybe you’re having a heart attack at your ripe age.

“Didn’t tell you to take any breaks, did I baby?” You’re annoyed at his pushiness, but you did have a bit of a sour attitude earlier. So you can only blame yourself.

You’re not sure how to entirely do this, but you move yourself up and down. Not at a fast pace, yet. Just that savoring your dad’s dick seems like a reasonable ordeal.

He doesn’t shut up, though. You’re learning just how much he likes to talk- as if he just wants to hear himself. Is he even getting off on you or the sound of his own voice? It makes you roll your eyes even if you do like hearing him say dirty shit.

"That’s my girl. So fucking good. Ride it nice and slow... Work that sweet pussy on daddy's cock.” You just might fall over dead hearing him say any of it- it’s disgusting but sweet Jesus are you eating it up. He must know it too because of how you clench around him involuntarily when he talks like that.

“You like when daddy praises you? Yeah, you love me telling you how good you are.” His words are husky and yet pleased with the previous tidbit of information.

“See how nice I am? Letting you sit on my cock after you made me wait earlier. Wasn’t very nice of you, now was it, baby?” His words have an underlyingly mocking tone, but you’d do anything to make him change it.

“No, daddy. Was really mean of me.” You whine pitifully, bouncing yourself on his dick like it’s your major in college and you’re trying to pass with flying colors.

“I know, baby. But daddy forgives you.” He murmurs, sitting up with you still on top of him. He’s flush against your back now- reaching in front of you to make those same tight circles on your clit. You both exchange your pitchy moans and his grunting and groaning- working up to a good point in both of your impending orgasms.

“Gonna cum in this pussy, got it? Daddy doesn’t like to pull out.”

You scramble a bit, squirming on his lap.

“Fuck, dad! You can’t do that!” You whine as his other arm holds you onto him- wrapped around your stomach. Your nails dig into his forearms, hopefully not leaving noticeable scratches.

“I think I can, baby. You’re squeezing me at the idea- I’m not fucking stupid.” He’s quick to be mean again, but you’d be a liar to say you’d don’t want him to cum in you. And you’re not a liar, that’s just deplorable- coming from someone who is literally fucking their dad with enough energy to power a small village for a month. And yet, you don’t stop riding him.

And your silence tells it all.

“Yeah- my baby wants a nice creampie.” He sounds more strained now, letting go of his hold on your stomach and using his hand to now guide you to roll your hips on him.

Sweat beads down Leon’s forehead, bangs sticking to his face as he watches your ass grinding against his lap.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that. I’m gonna cream this tight fucking pussy. Want that, don’t you? ‘Cause daddy’s gonna give it to you whether you want it or not.”

You should be a little more upset or concerned in any regard right now, but the last two days have made you into a proper whore to the point that you don’t even give a shit. Self respect crawled itself into a space shuttle and launched off of the planet, probably to never be seen again. Stuck in orbit, if you will.

You’re sucked out of the motions when Leon speaks again.

“Stop, stop.” He pats your bottom.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna see your face. Wanna kiss those lips while you’re on my dick.” Your stomach flutters with nervousness and a sickly sweet feeling. You lifted yourself from him with a trail of arousal to follow and maneuvered to turn around- this time he was holding his cock ready for you. Moments went by of you staring, getting a proper look of him since everything had been a quick blur so far.

“Come on, baby. Need you to mount daddy’s cock again. Told you I wanted to kiss you, didn’t I?” He exhaled, sounding a bit pent up. Jeez- seconds without pussy and he’s getting upset. Maybe he needs a therapist and anger management, not his college-aged daughter spearing herself on him.

You replied, yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you wait, daddy.

You dropped yourself down onto him once more- only this time it was easier since you were able to get accustomed to his dick.

“Start moving sweetheart, make daddy cum.” He instructed, leaning in to take you in a kiss. It was more dirty than the last kiss, somehow. His tongue slipped between your lips- Leon lifted you with his hands on your waist before jutting his hips up to slam his cock snugly into your heat, groaning against your mouth delightfully.

His teeth nipped your lower lip- giving you a little further taste of just what kind of lover he is. Or maybe this is just the version you get. Either way, you can’t complain in any area. You feel lucky to receive even a sliver of it.

The familiar roughness of his thumb returns to your already throbbing bud- circling at the same pace he’s now moving at. Despite his age, he seems awfully enthusiastic to do strenuous work involving his hips. Bad back, my ass. Or maybe he’s able to put that on the back burner to please you. Probably worried if he doesn’t give you good dick then you’ll go tattle on him.

Leon didn’t break the kiss whatsoever while he pounded into you ruthlessly, he swallowed up every moan and noise you made like it was alcohol. ‘Cause that was his favorite, obviously.

When he pulled his mouth off of yours, a trail of saliva lingered- stretching out while you giggled on top of him. Something about you laughing almost made him nut immediately, but he held out just to prolong this and let it engrain into his mind for certain.

“Got the prettiest baby- look so good on my cock like this. Want daddy to bust in that pretty pussy?” He asked, looking for your approval.

“Uh-huh. Need daddy to knock me up.” The words came from god knows where, making even your eyes look bewildered for a second.

Leon laughed darkly at you.

“God, baby. Daddy’s so fucking close.” He muttered stupidly, almost like he was drunk. At least this could be an ego boost for you- but the fact it was your dad canceled that out. Dick only counts if it’s from someone that’s not related to you. His eyes did that half-lidded thing from earlier that you found so hot, and he pulled you down onto his cock one last time, spilling thick ropes into your blood-related hole. His dick pulsed as he let out a muted grunt, head lolling back and his adam's apple on full, stubbly display. You could bite it, just like a real apple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned. Jeez. He was a whore, honestly. The way he made noises and didn’t shut the fuck up was honestly… a case that should be studied. Maybe he had been turned out a time or two himself.

His cock didn’t soften though, nor did he not forget about you cumming. He lifted his head back up, looking down at where his thumb was. It was almost like he read your thoughts, not saying a word as he concentrated on making you cum. ‘Cause earlier he had been too eager to get in you and you were too eager to get on him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders (hopefully your mom wouldn’t notice any marks on him when she gets home from work later) and he gently fucked into you while you received proper attention on your aching clit. The combination of his dick keeping you full and the sensation of his digit sent you throbbing through your orgasm around him- low curses and other disgusting things coming out of both your mouths.

‘Cause you’re both disgusting.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy death island #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy #tw inc*st #tw #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #leon s kennedy smut

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shrenvents · 4 months

Text

Guard Dog II

Part one

Warning: minors dni, fluff, smut, fingering, penetration, no protection, language

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x you

Summary: You and Daryl have started seeing each other, but not much has changed between you two. Yet, all you can think about is how much you need it to —need him to touch you, but he hasn’t made a move. Thus, you take charge.

Word count: 1.6k

…

Though it hasn't been said, flat out, you and Daryl are dating. And although nothing about your dynamic has altered, you’re still fairly certain, you're dating now.

But, the routine is just the same. You go somewhere, Daryl follows. However, nowadays you talk regularly, and he's visibly more comfortable. The others even started to notice your relationship and the changes in Daryl as well. One of which is, according to Eugene, is he seems happier, lighter, like a weight has lifted from his shoulders.

So, how is it that you feel something missing? You guessed a relationship with Daryl would be nothing less than this. But deep down, you expected him to at least touch you. And all you really wanted, was a kiss.

Sometimes, when he's close enough, you feel his warmth radiate over your very being. Sometimes, you sense his touch from when he grabbed your wrist, and held you in his arms weeks ago.

It left you craving more. Perhaps it did for him too...

Various times you swore his hand would hover over your skin, debating whether to reach out to you or not. Other times, he follows you to your house, but never steps foot inside, not since that day. He continuously stops short at your front deck, giving you a prolonged nod for a goodbye.

You’re shy in many ways, as is he, so if things were to change, you figure you have to be the one to take the reins. After all, he did admit to "wanting" you, so what did you have to lose?

…

Sighing, you open your door, squinting to welcome the blazing sun.

As of late, your mornings consist of this smouldering summer shine, and a mouthwatering, sleeveless Daryl Dixon, leaning against the pillar upholding your porch, waiting for you to wake.

"Morning!" You greet cheerfully. Daryl looks at you, and his scowl instantly softens. "I'm thinking we should do something today, together," you boast, trudging off the porch. "You know, switch up our usual routine somehow." Pausing thoughtfully, you notice how patiently Daryl observes you, waiting for your word, without any interruptions. It almost shocks you how docile he truly is, beneath that dim, tough exterior.

Your eyes explore Alexandria's landscape, catching areas with dull greenery. Your mouth opens in 'ah!'

Daryl appears disquiet and you holler, "Gardening!"

"No," he contradicts, quickly shutting down your idea. You huff, hindering a small smile. "Oh please, it would be fun!" You persuade, "This place needs more character, it's too-" desperately searching for a word, you make Daryl smirk a bit. "Colourless right now," you proclaim.

"And adding some flowers, will make this place look less like a 'dump'?" He mocks plainly.

"I don't think it's a 'dump,' it just needs some," once more, you seek the appropriate word, and Daryl expels a breathy chuckle. "Sprucing," you finish, and he nods with a tiny shake in disbelief. "Let's go!" You shout, heading to a plain field of grass.

"Yes ma'am," Daryl grumbles behind you, and you giggle.

...

The both of you spend hours outside, digging up weeds, replanting flowers, and spreading plant seeds across the lot. The whole ordeal left you both filthy, decorated in dirt. Though it's nothing new for Daryl, you feel pretty disgusting, not to mention 'hideous.'

Engrossed in your obsessive thoughts, you miss the way Daryl longingly watches you. That’s until you feel a plant stem, tuck your hair behind your ear. You spy Daryl’s calloused fingers, gently placing a pink flower there. His pinkie lightly coasts down your locks, to your shoulder.

You peer into his eyes, struck by his tenderness. His dilated pupils hold so much depth, that you get lost in them. So absentmindedly, you shift closer to Daryl.

His eyes roam your face, down to your lips, focusing on them.

A short breath escapes you, heart dropping, and he stands up. Now on his feet, Daryl brushes the grime on his hands in a clap, then lends one out to you. “You’re covered in dirt,” his throat bobs, “Let’s call it a day,” he heaves you upright, “take a shower.” You nod in agreement, kind of discombobulated.

Hand in hand, you silently walk to your house. Once you get there, he retracts his palm from yours and scratches his crown awkwardly. “You’re not coming?” You mumble shyly, and his wide eyes shoot to yours.

You fight to remain calm, staring at him. He licks his lips, once again, looking at your parted ones. “Separate showers, or...?” He asks airily.

“Whatever you want,” replying in a whisper, you slowly back up your steps, intently watching him. He refuses to break eye contact as he follows you inside.

When the door clicks shut, the only audible sound is his breathing, which is more like panting.

“You sure about…?” He trails off, delicately admiring your face. When you faintly mouth a 'yes,' his eyes train to your figure. You leisurely stride towards him.

“You’re so,” before he finishes, you peck his lips. He jerks his jaw moderately, and his gaze struggles to decide, whether to look at your eyes, or your body.

“Touch me,” you practically beg, nudging his abdomen with your knuckles. His sharp breath fans your face, and his expression distorts right before he instinctively, crashes his mouth into yours. Tongues mingling together, he grunts quietly, and you hum a whine in return.

Bodies pressing hard against each other, his hands tangle into your tresses, cupping your head. He rolls his hips rather harshly and you whine louder.

Breaking away with his name on your tongue, you clutch his hand and haul him upstairs.

Reaching the top of the staircase, he hugs you from behind and buries his face into your neck, breathing in like you're his lifeline.

“Daryl,” you sigh then gasp when he suddenly lifts you up. Your toes drag on the floorboards while he sucks on your nape. “Bathroom,” he rasps.

“To your left,” you huff in response, pushing your backside atop his crotch. Daryl just about growls, hastily carrying you into the bathroom.

Putting you down nicely, he forcibly tugs the shower curtain to the side. You spin to look at him and see him surveying you, staring down at your frame like he's in heat. You bite your lip, raising a hand to push away the black hair blocking his eyes.

“Can I?” He asks politely, gesturing to your clothes.

“Yes,” you nearly moan.

Together, you remove each other’s garments, one by one, piece by piece. Eyes equally wandering, to every newly revealed section of flesh. Daryl adorns your naked body and his lip tilts. You lean towards him to turn the shower knob.

The shower head roars, and Daryl tenses when the tips of your breasts graze his chest. “God,” he groans then takes your dome in his hands again, yanking your mouth upwards.

Your fronts fix together, and he palms your ass, reddening the skin there. His hard-on rubs your cunt, and he ambles you both under the flowing stream of water.

“Fuck,” you moan wildly when your spine hits the cool wall.

“Ya feel amazing,” he resounds into your ear, kissing it with a swipe of his tongue. You grind onto him. “Like that baby, again,” he instructs hoarsely, almost pained.

Moving in sync with each other, his cock continuously moves over your clit. You whine his name over and over, scratching your nails across his biceps. You moan out appraisals and smooch a trail from his chin to chest.

His hushed tone chants your name, trying to get your attention. But, when he gets tired of you ignoring him, his digits abruptly slip into you. You instantly cry out, then move in rhythm with his fingers, riding them. He begins to elicit an orgasm, so you pull away from his aggressive kiss. “Wait, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Good,” he groans with a smirk, trying to capture your mouth again.

“No, no, I wanna cum with you,” you plea, whispering, "on you," barely coherent. His fingers immediately slow and withdraw, at once, replaced by his girthy cock.

You scream a yelp and Daryl releases a lengthy, unreserved, animalistic groan. “So, tight,” his dark voice grates your ears. He cups your breast, playing with its nipple, and you sob while he mutters how badly he needs this.

After a moment of adjusting, Daryl starts thrusting. "Harder!" You express, and his hips lunge into you, untamed and vigorous.

Though his bottom half ruthlessly takes you, his hands and mouth are kind and attentive. His palms glide over your torso, holding you securely, and he kisses your features.

“Daryl, I love it,” you exclaim, then repeat yourself.

“Y-yeah?” He stammers, pinning his forehead to the side of your skull, and you grip his muscular biceps. “Yes, you’re so good.”

He growls your name, pumping even faster, evidently getting closer to his climax.

His hands move to squeeze and spread your ass, and ever-so-slightly, his finger sweeps across your unfilled hole, circling it. You squeal and huddle into him, and he murmurs something so quietly, that you can hardly hear it.

“What?” You gasp, craning your neck back.

“-fucking love you,” Daryl moans roughly, hoisting up your leg by its thigh. “Shit.” Pushing into you one last time, he pulls out to cum on your stomach.

Daryl's confession strikes such a cord, that you also cum when he removes himself.

Blanking, you aimlessly watch him stroke himself, and he grits his teeth at the sight of you flushed and wet.

Eventually, his meaty arms embrace your trembling form, snaking around your curves firmly. And after a short while, you hug him too, burying your face in his sternum.

“Can you, say that again?” You ask meekly, and as if he can hear your smile, he chuckles. “Later,” he pauses to kiss your scalp, “Lemme catch my breath first baby.”

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aliidarling · 5 months

Text

writing this made me think of beth and now i’m sad. i miss beth😒

snowfall

DARYL DIXON x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: you’re out on a run with daryl when you stay overnight at a camp. the temperature drops to freezing and daryl notices how you’re shivering.

warnings: fluff and smut, more smut sided, mean daryl, a lot of banter, p in v, groping, riding, whimpering daryl, daryl learns his place, reader is on top but daryl is in control, hypothermia mentions, creampie, unorotected sex, cuddling with the tip in LMAO

no proofread cuz i’m lazy :P

nsfw content below!!

being on runs with daryl was hard. he was short tempered with a bitchy attitude all the time, gruff with his words and agonizingly quiet. you could hear a pin drop whenever you were with the older man, but the second he got angry it was like hell had been released.

it was a cold winter, to your luck. you were walking alongside daryl in the forest, the both of you sweating from the labor of having to put down walkers and walk miles.

“ya’ wanna settle down camp sum’ where?” he gruffs lowly, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. his words catch your attention, probably the first innocent words he’s spoken to you in hours.

“good with me.” you shrug.

he lets out a huff and nods, motioning you towards another direction. you mindlessly follow, wiping some dirt off onto your pants.

a few minutes pass before you eventually wander across a little clearing that seemed fit for a temporary camp. it was a small area, with trees surrounding it, completely silent so you could hear if any walkers came across you two.

“i’ll go hunt sum’ fish, make a fire.” he grumbles, throwing his stuff down on the grass and immediately making a beeline towards the sound of a nearby lake. you watch as he disappears into the distance, a frown painting your expression.

“uhh.. okay.. yeah, i’ll set up a camp n’ stuff.” you mumble to yourself, your words dying off as he leaves hearing range. he was just dying to get away from you, huh?

ten minutes later, you’re sitting infront of a small campfire, a tree stump under your butt as you wait for the older man to return from his little quest. picking at a piece of weed, you stared off as the fire blazed infront of you.

you flinch when you hear a twig snap behind you. you immediately turn, peering behind your shoulder with your hand hovering over your blade.

daryl appears behind a tree, holding a wiggling fish that looked big enough to feed you two plus seconds.

“do i look like a walker?” he says rudely.

“sorry.” you mutter, lowering your hand and relaxing your posture, staring at him as he steps forward and roughly drops the fish into the fire.

the impact sends some fire sparks towards you, making you tense and shield yourself lightly.

“could you not?” you snap, scowling at him as you sit back up. he rolls his eyes at you, sitting across from you without a word. the fire sat between the two of you as silence washed over the camp, the only sound being the fire sparkling.

“it’s pretty cold, huh?” you say quietly, giving him a small smile. your attempt at small talk was shot down as he immediately glared at you, making you shrink and feel quite silly.

“it should take up to ten, fifteen minutes to cook.” he mumbled after a few minutes of silence. you peeked up at him, frowning. what did he have against you?

you shivered as it began to grow colder every passing second, the wind picking up as the air grew thick. you wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes of warming your body temperature. he noticed but didn’t say a word, instead staring at the cooking fish and waiting for it to be ready.

“where are we sleeping?” you spoke up again.

he doesn’t respond until minutes later, hands occupied with skinning the fish and cutting it in pieces. he hands you a nicely sized portion, blank expression on his face. he never had much of an expression when it came to dealing with you.

“we’ll figure it out, but so far it looks like we’ll have to make do with the grass.” he huffs. he motions around the campsite with one of his over-exaggerated waves. “might snow tonight, so find a spot under a tree so you don’t fuckin’ die from hypothermia.”

you nod along to his words, munching on the fish he made with a hum. you glance back at him and narrow at his sleeveless arms.

“are you not cold?” you scoff lightly, a smile tugging at your lips. his lips twitch, readjusting his position as he suddenly feels very aware of the cold air brushing against his biceps.

“i’ll be alright,” he murmurs, taking another large bite of the fish. “what about you? you’re wearin’ a thin top.” he motions to your long sleeve henley.

“i’ll be alright.” you can’t help but grin, shrugging as you mock his words. he can’t help but chuckle lowly, glancing down at his half eaten fish before resuming his feasting.

after you both finish eating you’re quick to find spots under trees. both trees are next to each other but with a respectable distance, mostly because you both haven’t done nothing more then have a small conversation. a conversation that was less then twenty minutes ago.

the air grew more cold as the wind grew louder, leaves rustling and leaving you cold and huddled up into a tight ball. your weak attempt at warming yourself was proven useless when snow started to fall, painting the floor a frosted color.

“yer’ alright?” he breaks the silence. you peer over your shoulder and look at him. he was leaning against the tree next to yours, his biceps tense as snow fell on top of them. the sight was almost angelic, a big muscular man with snow falling on top of him delicately.

“s’cold.” you mumble quietly, curling back up as you quietly rock yourself. your lashes flutter close as you focus on your breathing and not dying of hypothermia. you shivered.

another few long minutes of silence pass, the sound of both your breathing the only thing audible. you can feel his eyes on your back but you don’t say a word, mostly out of stubbornness.

“jesus christ girl, you’re gonna die like an idiot, just c’mere already.” the words leave his mouth with a bitter tone. he didn’t want you that close to him but he would rather have you invade his personal space then straight up die.

you give him a confused look, your cheeks flushing as you see him pat his thigh in an impatient manner. a moment passes before you finally muster up the courage and shuffle onto his lap, your chest to his as you bury your face into his shoulder. the contact felt unfamiliar, but definitely not unwelcome.

his hands wrap around you immediately, one on your lower back and pressing you into him, the other gently petting your hair and twirling little strands between his rough fingers. you had never felt him be so gentle with you, heck, you were pretty sure this was the first time he had ever genuinely touched you other then the rude shoves and pushes.

you didn’t know why his body was so warm, but all you knew was that you wanted to be as close as possible to him. seek shelter in his arms and fall asleep by being rocked.

his rough fingers gently tug at your shirt hem, pulling it down in order to warm you more. his finger brushed softly against your flesh as he did this, making your heart skip a beat. you didn’t say a word, but the two of you could feel the tension thickening.

he stares at your body, your face, how your legs are straddling him and how your buried so deep into his chest. he brushes his finger against your skin lightly under your shirt again, wanting to see if he had imagined the way you reacted the first.

just like he assumed, your body language tensed just slightly, your hands wrapped around him tightening. a lazy smile forms on his face as he slowly pulls his hand under your shirt, resting against your bare back. you shivered, cuddling closer and tucking your head under his chin.

“you’re warm.” you hum quietly, trying your best not to let any more reactions slip as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“my bare skin is a lot warmer, sweetheart.” he says smoothly, no hesitance in his words. you gulp hard, blinking and processing his words before looking up at him through your lashes.

“i heard, uh, skin to skin is the best way at beating someone up.” you offer a sheepish smile, cheeks flushed from the cold and the feeling of being in his arms. he can’t help but chuckle dryly at your comment, his hands slipped to wrap around your waist and rub further up until one was playing with your bra clasp and the other was rubbing your belly. you curled up into his touch, a soft sigh leaving your throat.

“you want me to warm you up?” he says lowly, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear as he hoists you up further into his lap. his eyes flutter as he looks you up and down, taking in the sight of your body molding perfectly into his.

“yes please.” you nod and slowly sit up on his lap, your hands going to grasp ahold of his shoulders for balance as you started to lean in. he took the hint and gently cupped your waist, eyes flickering from your eyes to lips, watching intently as you grew closer.

a small moan left him as your lips connected to his. he tightened his grip on your soft skin under your shirt and rubbed it, kneading it as he kissed you. his adam’s apple bobbed as he leaned in, pressing his chest flush to yours and starting to slowly peel your shirt off.

you stopped him, frowning. “it’s too cold for that.” he rolled his eyes at your comment and reluctantly let your shirt go. a small huff left him as he looked back at your pretty face.

“let me at least—“ he mumbles, his hands slipping back under your shirt to grope your breasts. he runs his rough palms over your bra and pulls it down, letting your breasts out from its confinement. he could see your nipples poking through your top more clearly now, but he wished nothing more then to be able to feel them without anything in-between you two. maybe next time.

“so fuckin’ pretty.” a smile tugs at him as he gently gropes them, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he was gentle, watching your every reaction closely, fingers working at you like a professional. it felt like he was.

“please, i want more, daryl.” your voice sounded pitifully small as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, straddling his thigh firmly and pressing your core down in hopes of relieving the tension. he watches you with a heavy gaze as you focus on rocking your sensitive core against his thigh, brows furrowed in concentration as you moan softly.

his hands continue groping and gently massing your breasts, rough fingers pulling at your nipples which earns a shallow gasp from you, and pulling you harder down on him. every moan that leaves your throat has him shivering and aching to be inside you more.

“s’enough, baby. c’mon, lemme put it in.” he mutters. his hands grab at his pants belt and he unbuckles it quickly, and in seconds his hard cock slaps against his abdomen, making your eyes widen at his size and his hard he was. you feel your pussy grow even more damp.

“y-yeah, okay.” you nod immediately and start to pull down your pants just enough to have your panties on display. you straddle his hips again, hovering over his cock, your pants around your ankles. it was cold as shit, but you chose to ignore it, too eager to feel him inside you to even care.

one hand on the back of your back and the other pulling your panties to the side, he slowly slides you down until his gruffy patch of hair above his cock brushed against your clit. your lips formed an ‘O’ shape as you felt the slow stretch of him entering you and opening up your inner walls. it felt so good.

“feels so good, daryl.” you cry out softly, shaky hands grabbing onto his shoulders to hold yourself steady on his cock. he hums in acknowledgment, nodding subtly as he wraps his palms around your waist. his fingers knead your doubly flesh, his eyes glued to where you both were conjoined.

“mmm, good girl, jus’ like that,” he grunts, his voice shaky as you start to bounce on his cock. his head leans back against the bark, almost whimpering as he feels your pussy go up and down so him. so god damn tight and wet, he could barely think. it hasn’t even been five minutes and he was already pussy drunk.

“you like that? does it feel good?” you ask breathlessly, eyes dazed as you repeatedly slam yourself down on him. you had never had such a strong and powerful man under you, whimpering as you rode him. you didn’t want this to end, ever.

“feels so good, baby. don’t stop— augh, don’t fuckin’ stop..” his hold on you tightens. maybe you would get bruises, it wouldn’t surprise you, he was holding onto you like you were his lifeline. your hip movements only quicken at his words, moans leaving your throat and eyes rolling back. his fat tip punched that sweet spot inside you everytime you slid down, making you repeatedly chase that feeling.

“i-i’m sorry baby, m’gonna cum,—“ he whimpers, grabbing your hips and starting to slam you down on him at his own speed. a gasp leaves you as your back arches, your hands going to wrap around his shoulders and bury your face into his neck. your body was repeatedly slammed down onto his cock, no break at all between thrusts. he was going fast and hard, eager to feel himself cum inside your soapy walls.

his eyes squeezed shut as he felt himself start to cum inside you, his hands growing faster in pulling you down on him. your tight pussy milked him dry as he whined into your ear, teeth gritted as his fat tip pressed hard onto your sweet spot. his large hand went to rub at your clit as he started to thrust upwards into you, looking to make you cum.

“cum ‘round me sweetheart, i’ve gotcha..” his fingers rub eight figures onto your clit. you shiver on his lap, whimpering loudly into his ear. your hole spasms around him and you clench down hard, making him groan. seconds later, your juices drip down his cock as you slowly go limp, laying like a lifeless doll on his lap with his cock still buried nice and deep inside you.

a few minutes pass of you panting heavily, the cold no longer a problem for you both. daryl held onto you tightly, rubbing your back gently as he calmed down. he eventually started to slide you off him, making you wince and grab onto him tighter.

“jesus— fuck, what’s wrong with ya?” he glares at you. back to his snarky personality, it looked.

“it’s warmer with you inside. just, don’t, okay, please?” you bat your lashes at him, sliding yourself down again, making him hiss at the friction.

“you’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” he grumbles. he pulls your clothes back on the best he could without tempering with his placement inside you, trying to keep you both as warm as possible. you hum dumbly and snuggle back into his chest, nice and cozy.

#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon #Spotify

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alien-magnolia · 5 months

Text

I Need Someone Older

Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!

Word count: 3.1k

Don’t like, don’t read!!

May 5, 2007

7:40 pm

Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.

All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.

You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.

You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.

“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!

You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.

“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.

“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.

“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”

So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.

“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.

Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.

“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.

“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”

“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.

You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”

You were more than happy to give it to him.

You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.

Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.

“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.

“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.

He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.

You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.

You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.

“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.

He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.

“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’

With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.

“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.

He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.

“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.

The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.

The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.

His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.

His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.

His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.

His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.

“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.

“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.

“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.

All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!

“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.

A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.

“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.

You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.

His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.

His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!

“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.

Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.

He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.

Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤#supernatural smut #Dean Winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester hot #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dom!dean winchester #hyperfeminine!reader

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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 year

Text

Hearts Awakened, Live Alive

demon!mingi x human!reader

fantasy au (inspired by howl's moving castle)

word count: ~26k

genres: fluff, really angsty, suggestive, mention of hostage situation, violence warnings, whiplash warning lol

synopsis: you finally run away from the clutches of your stepmother and encounter mingi, infamously known as 'the child of shadows'. you join his gang of three- the high healer wooyoung and the white flame seonghwa and start living with them. you find out mingi is cursed to share a body with the shadow demon that goes by the name erebos and start falling for it and mingi eventually, though tragic consequences await you as you find out more about the demon's curse.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we were writing diff fics side by side on docs and messed up the tenses so bad)

The last thing you remembered as you woke up after what had to be another fainting spell was that your wrists had been tied together and you were locked in the tower of your house– but as you looked around and found nothing but the woods and greens of the forests, you started to feel dread creep up your chest and bubble out in the form of a short sob.

You spent only a few seconds trying to recall how you got here- you had run away from home and this time, you had succeeded, but now you needed to get as far away from the town as possible. You got up, not bothering to brush the leaves and dirt off your cloak and instead tried to figure out what direction you had been aiming for- the setting sun. Thankfully, it wasn’t dark just yet so you followed the rays of the sun and started running a little more carefully this time, head still dizzy from the overwhelmingness of the situation.

Sieun’s plan was perfect. She was one of the servants back at the castle house, a place that had once been your home when your father was still alive- under the reign of your stepmother, though, everything had gone to hell. She was the only one who had dared to help you escape and succeeded. You did not want to think about what had happened to those who failed.

You licked your dry lips and wondered if the sound of water you could hear was actually a stream or just a bait- afterall, this was a town of mages. It might be a trick to lure people- but…

There was someone else in your town now, someone feared by mages and humans alike. ‘The Child of Shadows’, they called him among his many other names. You had only heard rumours about him and you weren’t sure if they were true. What you did know was that as a mere human, you had to avoid him at absolutely all costs. You’d had enough of living in the shadows already.

The sun was starting to set so you decided to find shelter and followed the sound of the stream. The running water was cool to touch and you washed your face and hands before drinking it. You searched in the pockets of your cloak, finding a piece of bread and devouring it in a few bites, almost choking on it- you felt a sudden sense of dread when you realised that something about this whole situation was off-

Silence. It was awfully silent- you didn’t realise when the birds stopped chirping and the bugs stopped buzzing- not even the sound of a leaf in the air. The water and the unsteady beats of your heart were the only thing you could hear. You gulped, trying to recall when exactly the forest fell silent when you heard the sounds of leaves rustling behind you. You whipped your head around and pulled the knife out of your sleeve, pointing it at-

Not one, but a bunch of soldiers. You immediately put your knife back.

“Are you lost, miss?” One of them asked, a middle aged man with a unique moustache. “You look pale.”

“No, I… I’m travelling so I just stopped to eat-”

“Travelling? Alone?” Another soldier said, not buying your story. “Miss, you know the protocols, right? We would need to see your identification.”

This was it.

Without any identification, travelling alone? They were going to put you behind bars. That would be better than going back to the dungeons of your house, you thought, as the little spark of hope you had been harbouring ever since you escaped started to dim-

“She’s not alone,” a deep, raspy voice boomed and for a moment you froze, wondering if it had reverberated inside you. You found yourself unable to turn, instead letting the source of the voice come in your vision.

Nothing about him screamed normal, from his ragged appearance to his unmistakable dark aura, and even the soldiers took a step back. You remained frozen as he passed you a glance- such sharp eyes- and dug something from his bag, showing it to the soldiers. They looked from the card to you and back, straightening, and as if a spell had been casted over them, they bowed and turned back to join their squad.

The man who had just saved you turned and you scanned him again- hair swept back in black and blue spikes adding more sharpness to his pointy features, the dark cloak on his broad body not helping with the air he exuded-

“Who are you?” You managed to ask, taking a step back and finally understanding why the soldiers had too.

He passed an awkward smile and held his bag close. “Just a passerby.”

“What did you show to the soldiers? And where did you come from?”

“So many questions for someone who’s travelling alone, in this state,” he glanced at your rags hidden under your cloak before stepping towards you and you reflexively pointed your knife at him, making him scoff in amusement. “I’m sorry but this knife won’t do much to me,” he waved a hand and the knife turned to ashes and you gaped at it.

“You’re a mage…” your heart sank to your feet- you really were done for this time. He shrugged and started down on the path, turning to you after a few steps.

“Aren’t you gonna follow me?”

You hated how his voice made you obey instantly- more out of curiosity than fear, which was new considering the stories you’d heard about mages. Your own experience with mages was not the best either. You cleared your throat, falling just a step behind him and matching his pace from there. “Where are we going?”

“Where are you going? You seemed to have run away,” he said casually. You wondered if he often encountered runaways on the road.

“I just need to get as far away from this town as possible,” you almost shivered and he nodded.

“I’m travelling anyway. I don’t mind if you join- as long as you don’t make too much noise.”

“I can be as silent as a pin,” you told him and he glanced at you in amusement.

“Aren’t you scared of travelling with a stranger?” You ignored that, wondering what you would do if he tried something with you. However, his shoulders shook from laughter and he said, “Relax. I’m not alone either- I have company.”

You should have known that by company he meant more mages, and you were cursing internally at the thought of being surrounded by mages, because what if someone decided to take advantage of the fact that you were a mere human? Your stepmother had, even when she was human herself- and all she wanted was for you to hand over your assets to her. You wouldn’t put it past this bunch to not do the same.

What you didn’t expect was how incredibly normal they seemed. Their appearance? Not so much, but the way they approached the mage who accompanied you? You frowned as you watched their comfortable interaction- you couldn’t sense anything from them that would give you a hint of who they were, but you wondered if you were the only one who felt that dark, crushing aura of your companion.

“And who’s our new guest?” The man with white hair approached with a gentle smile though he passed a sceptical glance at your companion. “Another one, Mingi? Already?”

“What do you mean, already, it’s been a few decades. Don’t scare her off,” the shorter one tsk-ed at him and approached you with the warmest smile. “I’m Jung Wooyoung- you can call me Wooyoung. You might know me as the High Healer-”

“Wooyoung-”

“The High Healer?” You gasped.

Wooyoung folded his arms. “Yes?”

You looked at the other two in disbelief but when they didn’t react, you shook your head, trying to make sense of it. “You’re the High Healer.”

“I am,” Wooyoung’s voice was low and contained a hint of worry. “What’s the matter?”

You had been out to find him.

“Nothing, just-” you looked at the man who had accompanied you. “Who are you then?”

“Song Mingi,” he told you and you raised a brow, expecting more but he didn’t give in. You looked at the white-haired man.

“Park Seonghwa. The White Flame,” he muttered and you nodded- you had heard of him, alright. The Fallen Angel. You were wondering if that really was the case or if it was just a title he earned because he looked like one. “Did you lose your way while travelling?”

“I ran away,” you straightened- might as well pretend not to be a coward than quivering in their company. The healer hooted at that and you were once again surprised by the man’s behaviour- nothing like your father had told you. “You’re not how I imagined you to be.”

“Ah, I get that a lot,” he winked, “Everyone imagines a boring old balding man with a long beard, don’t they?”

“I mean,” you shrugged. “You are supposed to be old, aren’t you?”

“I’m not even that old,” he waved his hand dismissively. “They’ve got multiple centuries over me- they’re older.”

“Centuries?” You gaped at Mingi- you weren’t surprised about the White Flame- he was as old as time itself, and you wondered if part of his magic was exuding a calm air so you wouldn’t panic in his presence. Because nothing about the White Flame shook you to the core like Mingi’s presence did.

“That’s enough,” Mingi exhaled. “Let’s go home.”

You followed the three, wondering what was up with this odd bunch- the White Flame and the High Healer living in the same place didn’t make sense at all. So who was this Song Mingi? You tried recalling anything that rung a bell, but-

You paused when the three abruptly stopped and watched Mingi wave a hand in the air, and what you saw next took your breath away- it was as if a layer of fog had been lifted and you could suddenly see-

“That’s your home?”

Ruins was what it was. A house falling apart on itself. It was as if someone had gathered planks of wood and nailed them wherever they could- there were windows, yes, but everything was absolutely crooked.

Mingi turned slowly to glare at you, once again making you gulp. Wooyoung butted in between the two of you. “The inside is not that bad, I promise.”

Mingi and Seonghwa ignored the two of you, talking in hushed voices as they started to go inside. You stood frozen in place, feeling an odd sense of danger and calm battling for dominance within you. Wooyoung nudged you along but when you stopped again, he asked, “Do you not want to come inside?”

“Should I?” You locked eyes with him. “I’ve heard you’re a good person, High Healer.”

“I’ve heard that too,” he said with a smug smile.

“People- humans trust you. You help them, right?” When he nodded, you continued. “Tell me then, would I regret joining the three of you? Even if it’s for just one night?”

“If it’s for one night? Not really. You could be on your way tomorrow. But if you choose to stay,” Wooyoung pursed his lips. “I can’t guarantee you won’t regret it.”

“Well, at least you’re candid about it,” you started walking and Wooyoung grinned. “Just know I wouldn’t be walking towards that ‘house’ right now if it weren’t for you.”

“You seem to know me,” Wooyoung’s eyes twinkled. “Have we met?”

You simply smiled- he wouldn’t know you. This was your first time meeting him as well, however, your father was acquainted with him. You decided not to mention it to him right now.

The house did look better inside, you had to agree- it was a mess, still, but it did look like people were actually living in it. Seonghwa was in the kitchen and you tried to let the image of the White Flame doing dishes sink in. Wooyoung was laughing loudly at your expressions and you awkwardly glanced around, taking off your cloak and sitting by the fireplace.

“I always get such a kick out of whenever someone sees Seonghwa in the kitchen,” Wooyoung wiped his eyes, handing you a glass of what looked like orange juice which you gladly accepted. “Who would have thought the White Flame was obsessed with keeping his kitchen clean, right?”

“I don’t know where all of you got the impression that I would be doing something else,” Seonghwa muttered. “I have a house to manage and two kids to take care of.”

“Two children?” You frowned and Wooyoung guiltily raised his hand, you realised he was referring to Wooyoung and Mingi as the two kids. You looked at Wooyoung, “Well, where are the others?”

“What others?”

“You said you get a kick out of people watching Seonghwa in the kitchen. Do you often have visitors or are there others here?”

When Seonghwa and Wooyoung met eyes and shared a look, you knew whatever he’d tell you would be a lie so you decided to ask something else. “What happens to those who decide to stay with you for longer than a day?”

“You’re very sceptical of us,” Seonghwa tossed the washcloth in the sink and folded his arms as he leaned against the counter to almost glare at you. “If you’re going to keep asking questions when we’ve given you shelter, you might as well leave at the crack of dawn.”

And, there it was. Your suspicions that Seonghwa was making a conscious effort to emanate a calm air were confirmed when you felt a shift in the air and something heavy started settling in your heart, making your throat feel tight. Wooyoung called Seonghwa’s name in warning.

“Let’s be patient with a curious guest, we don’t often get that,” he waved dismissively and Seonghwa went back to fiddling with the utensils. You didn’t realise how hard you were clutching the glass until Wooyoung patted your back. “Don’t mind him. He’s so old he gets cranky sometimes. Would you like to take a tour of the mansion?”

“Mansion?” You almost laughed and he grinned.

“What better name to call this beauty?” He looked around and as if on cue, a pipe at the far end of the room burst, spraying water and startling all of you. Seonghwa muttered a curse under his breath before he went to examine it and you turned to the healer in amusement.

“Sure,” you smiled. “I would like a tour.”

—--------------------

The thing about mages was that they did not care for humans. They really, really didn’t- they were not humans. They would not understand the simple human struggles, such as why they always think selfishly- humans had a shorter lifespan after all, unlike most mages. Mages also didn’t quite understand that some humans had more things to worry about than death- there were more important things.

Such as finally being able to live.

You were sitting in front of the fireplace in the middle of the night, not quite sleepy. You reckoned it was because you still hadn’t made a decision- did you want to leave? What would you do if you left? How far could you make it travelling on your own, really? Sooner or later, someone was going to take advantage of you and you would meet a fate worse than death- something similar to what your life had been before you finally ran away from home.

And if you decided to stick with these mages…

“What are you doing here?”

You turned to the source of voice, identifying his presence first. Mingi. Why did his voice feel different this time? You straightened your dress and posture, not feeling a need to answer, wondering if it was the lack of sleep that was making you hear things-

“I asked you something.”

You frowned as you looked at him again- yes, he was Mingi, but why did he sound… different?

“Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“I thought you’d know that- it is you all who gave me the ultimatum,” you narrowed your eyes as you scanned him- he was wearing a cloak. Was he going out at this hour of the night?

“Ah, did we?” He suddenly sounded… cockier. You watched him step closer and pick something from the mantel and bury it in his pockets before you could see it. When he turned, you noticed the colour of his eyes now that the fire illuminated half of his face-

His eyes were almost glowing.

“Say, would you like some fresh air?” He suggested and you all but gaped at his sudden change of demeanour.

“Why would I go out to get some fresh air with someone I don’t even know at this hour of the night?”

“Well, you are staying in a house with three strangers who just happen to be mages, aren’t you?” He shifted his weight to one leg. “I told them not to let more of you humans in, but they always insist it’s for ‘the better’.”

“Why?” You dared to ask.

“Why would mages welcome human company, right?” Mingi scoffed. “Think about that before you go to sleep tonight, little bird.”

Even though your heart sank, you dared to ask, “Would you mind if I stayed?”

His almost devilish smirk made you wish you had never asked that. He stepped closer, slowly, until he was right in front of you and you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes. You let him trace the side of your face, feeling in your bones first that this wasn’t the person you had met in the woods, not the one with the warm smile who had saved you, not the one who had been so hesitant to meet your eyes.

This wasn’t Song Mingi.

“Who are you?” You almost whispered and his eyes twinkled.

“I’m the shadows that you fear, little bird,” his voice sounded ancient, spreading like the very shadows he mentioned around you. He patted your cheek once, almost condescendingly, before disappearing and you wondered just what you were getting into. “And you should fly away when you still have the chance.”

You, of course, decided to stay. Simply out of spite.

You have always been like this. When your father died, you were far too young to exercise your authority and influence as the inheritor of the noble title and all of his assets, and you let your stepmother take advantage of you as you succumbed to grief. But as the grief started becoming something like background and you finally realised how you were trapped, you decided you would never let anyone get the better of you again.

Your stepmother had treated you like an inconvenience, and as you started rebelling, it took the shape of an ugly war. You, however, did not have anyone who had your back. Your stepmother had influence around town and she used that, hired mages to put wards around her house to keep you from leaving. You always asked her why she wouldn’t simply let you go. Perhaps, she was afraid she would lose. But it got to the point that you wondered if she was paranoid- especially when she started using numbing potions on you, locking you in a room in the tower.

Now that you hadn’t had that potion in two days, it was as if you were finally regaining your senses. The world was clearer and you felt awake for once. You owed it all to Sieun who had gained your stepmother’s trust, only to pretend to give you those numbing potions and a chance to run away. You could do nothing but pray she wasn’t locked in that tower like you, that she didn’t meet a fate worse than you did.

So maybe, it was spite. Maybe you simply didn’t want to be told what to do anymore that you decided to stick with this odd group of mages and see where it took you- after all, you had nowhere to go.

But it was also slightly because you knew you could trust the healer because your father had told you so, and because you were so intrigued about who this Song Mingi was. He had to be someone you had heard about- he felt too powerful to be a simple mage. He was too old to be a simple mage. The White Flame you had heard enough tales about. But…

A knock sounded on your door and you, who had been in the middle of making the bed, cleared your throat. The door opened and a mess of white hair greeted you, eyes curious.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run away in the night,” Seonghwa commented and you shrugged. “Slept well?”

“Not really, but that’s the nerves,” you finished straightening the duvet, glancing around. “And might also be the abundance of spiders in your ‘beautiful mansion’.”

“Ah, I swear I cleaned this room two days ago but the spiders keep coming,” he stood awkwardly in the doorway and you had to stop and stare at him- was he actually taking you seriously? “So you decided to stay?”

“For now,” you nodded slowly. “If you’re fine with it?”

“Oh, I don’t care,” Seonghwa admitted. “Wooyoung would love to talk to someone else other than the two of us too.”

“And… Mingi?”

Seonghwa raised a brow and you felt a shift in the air that almost made you bend. You frowned in confusion but Seonghwa was eyeing you knowingly. “Did you talk to him in private or something?”

“In the middle of the night…” you told him. “He basically told me to go away.”

“Ah. But you’re staying?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “But a word of advice for you- stay in your own room during the night. You don’t want to see things that you won’t like.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That’s for me to decide, but thank you.”

Seonghwa shook his head in mild amusement. “I guess the potion is wearing off.”

“You can tell?” You wowed. Of course he could. He was a mage.

“You’re not the same person who almost cowered at our feet,” he tilted his head up a fraction, making you wonder if he was looking down at you- in every sense possible. “I like you better this way, but now I know what to do if you become too much-”

“You would not-”

Seonghwa paused- you sounded like a wounded animal but there was a hint of threat in there which made him intrigued despite himself. Somehow, he could relate to you in that moment, share the sense of once being trapped by your own people even though a lifetime had passed for him.

“I would not,” he assured you, this time without a smile. “Join us for breakfast?”

You exhaled somewhat in relief and followed him downstairs, surprised to see everyone on the table. You wondered if ‘breakfast’ was a regular thing here. You could not remember the last time you sat at a table to eat- you were too used to seating yourself in corners.

And you could not move when Seonghwa pushed out a chair for you. When he cleared his throat, you finally came back to your senses and sat, studying the others. Wooyoung waved at you and Mingi seemed to be too interested in his almost finished plate.

“Help yourself,” Wooyoung pushed a plate of eggs towards you. “I’m a good cook.”

“I’m sure you are…” you felt the need to take a nibble first, see if you could detect the faint scent of lavender in it which was a key ingredient for any numbing potion- however, you knew that the White Flame could probably read your thoughts from your body language alone. He was called the ‘Seer of the Hearts’ for a reason. So you stomped on your hesitation and took a bite-

Of the most heavenly eggs you could have ever tasted.

“There’s no way you did not mix magic in that,” you muttered to yourself, mostly, but Wooyoung caught that.

“I do not mix magic with my daily routine, I’m a healer,” Wooyoung laughed. “I’m glad you think it’s good. People here don’t really appreciate good food and the effort behind it, you know?”

You glanced at Mingi who sported a faint smile. “Tastes normal enough to me.”

You knew they were teasing each other- bickering back and forth so naturally in an argument about who was the best cook in the house. You couldn’t help but wonder if that is how they usually were, and Mingi-

He sounded like the same person you had met in the woods. Not the one who talked to you last night. No hint of that cockiness nor a sharp glint in the eyes. He sounded warm.

“Well,” Mingi, who had just finished eating, spoke out loud, seemingly addressing you and you straightened, breaking out of your trance. “Have you decided if you want to stay?”

“So the decision is in my hands?” You asked with a raise of brow, not able to hold yourself back. Seonghwa looked at you in warning but you ignored that. ��I thought you decided for me last night.”

And then something flashed in his eyes making you wonder if you were imagining it. “Sorry if it seemed that way.”

Again, you were confused. “I think I’ll stay after all, and see what exactly are those shadows that I should fear.”

That made Mingi drop his fists on the table as he almost glared at you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mingi-”

“No,” Mingi interrupted Wooyoung. “If she’s staying, she should know who I am. She should know to stay away from me- and she shouldn’t be here for much longer. There’s only so much I can do about this.”

You wiped your hands as you processed what he said- you had asked him who he was last night.

“Take it slow,” Seonghwa reminded him softly. “We do not make our guests feel unwelcome, Mingi, you know that.”

Mingi slumped back in his seat then, muttering an apology and you did the same, making the High Healer stifle his smile. “Kids, both of you. You should know that Mingi is publicly called ‘The Child of Shadows’ though, before you decide to stay. We don’t want you to think that we tricked you into staying or something.”

Seonghwa groaned loudly but you couldn’t hear that, because-

The Child of Shadows.

You had heard enough tales about him. The mage who could make you think you were blind in broad daylight. The mage who drove the best insane, the one who made you face years worth of nightmares in a second. The Cursed, the Prophesied, they also called him, though you had heard quite a bit of variations of that one. Cursed why? Prophesied to do what? The question remained even after centuries-

Centuries over you, these three mages had. You had never felt smaller in your life before, so insignificant, so-

When Seonghwa called your name, that’s when you broke out of your trance. You found yourself out of breath and locked eyes with Mingi again.

I’m the shadows that you fear, little bird. And you should fly away when you still have the chance.

His words from last night rang in your head and you sighed internally. It was a miracle you were alive right now, but then you supposed if you didn’t encounter them, you would have been dead anyway. So you cleared your throat, reeling yourself back in. “I’m here.”

“I understand that you are scared,” Seonghwa smiled. “He doesn’t have the best reputation, does he?”

“None of you have, except The High Healer,” you looked at Wooyoung who smiled proudly. “I just don’t know what to believe. I know your magic is keeping me calm- part of it anyway,” you admitted to Seonghwa who seemed genuinely surprised that you knew. “But I don’t know what to expect.”

Seonghwa looked at Mingi who kept his face void of any emotions. “The Child of Shadows… There's a very simple reason he is called that. And he’s not as bad as they made him to be- I can vouch for that.”

“I’d like to believe that,” you almost whispered and Mingi met your eyes, something like understanding passing between you two- you had no idea what exactly you understood of Mingi now, but somehow, you weren’t sour about the events of last night anymore. “Mages must struggle with their own magic too, as humans struggle with… being human.”

Seonghwa smiled knowingly at Mingi who awkwardly stood up, glancing at the three of you. “I have some business in town so if you need something, let me know now. I’ll be back in the evening and then we will move.”

“Move where?” You asked.

“We’re travellers,” Wooyoung sighed dramatically. “We don’t have a place we can call home.”

“But what about this… mansion?” You asked, making the three chuckle.

You were in for a surprise. In the evening, after you spent the rest of the day lurking around and watching Seonghwa prepare food and Wooyoung experiment with his potions, Mingi arrived, seeming out of breath, hair all messy as if he had been on the run. Your suspicions were confirmed when he talked with Seonghwa in hushed voices and the two went outside. You glanced at Wooyoung who was observing you already.

“It’s normal. No one really likes them. Me, though? I’m the only reason we get to stay in one place for a while.”

You reckoned it was true- the High Healer was a mage that every human wanted to meet at least once in their lifetime- and not because he was a ‘healer’. His wisdom was for the books, though you had to say you never imagined the High Healer was this cheeky personally. You wondered if he was like this with everyone.

“You still haven’t told me how we’re gonna travel. Don’t you need to pack or something?”

Wooyoung smirked yet again, like he had been doing ever since the morning whenever you inquired about their means or mode of travel. You passed him an annoyed look and the doors burst open, the two looking as calm as they could.

“Fuel the engines, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa ordered. “I’m going to the roof- Mingi will wait until it’s time.”

“Fuel what engines?” Your voice shook and you went for the window to get a look outside, not finding any sort of a transport, much less one with an engine. You turned to see Wooyoung at the fireplace with one hand in the fire and you had to swallow an instinctive scream. Seonghwa had disappeared and you felt a tap on your arm.

“You might want to take a seat,” Mingi motioned to the table. “First time can be scary.”

“I don’t understand,” you confessed.

“You’ll see,” he placed a hand on your back, urging you to do as he said. Unconvinced, you sat down and braced yourself for the biggest surprise of your life-

It started with Wooyoung shouting okay and Seonghwa responding. When the utensils on the table started shaking a bit, you wondered if there was an earthquake and almost screamed when you felt the floor rock. You could practically feel the foundations of the house shaking as it rose, finally earning a scream from you which went unnoticed. You spotted Wooyoung who looked amused and you finally got it then.

This house moves.

You had never heard of such a thing in your life. Not even in the stories. Your horror turned into something like surprise and perhaps a little bit of glee as you walked cautiously towards Wooyoung, holding on to whatever was near for support and when he extended his hand, you took it.

“I could have had a heart attack, Wooyoung,” you finally laughed, more in disbelief.

“And that’s why they have a healer here,” his eyes twinkled with amusement and you found him scanning your face. You realised it was your first time laughing in years and your smile fell but you let a hint of it remain.

“How do you do it?”

Wooyoung explained the mechanics- it was basically running due to Seonghwa. They had figured this mechanism out a few decades ago- Wooyoung, who had a fire affinity, would fuel the house through the fireplace. The house had a soul at this point which was thanks to Seonghwa, and he admitted even he did not know how Seonghwa did it. You realised why he adored this house then, despite its tattered form- and perhaps, it was tattered due to all the travelling they did.

You also learned that without Mingi’s magic the house could not move. The shadows materialised and binded the house in places you could not see and they also worked as tyres. Wooyoung showed you how it looked through the window and you were amazed. You spotted Seonghwa dangling from the edge of the roof, moving his limbs as if he himself was driving the house but when he looked down and waved, you figured it must be for the initial kick.

“So where’s Mingi?” You finally asked, unable to hold back your curiosity.

“Outside the space in his room, maybe,” Wooyoung considered for a second. “You can go and see him if you like. You don’t have to be scared of him.”

You pursed your lips and when you started to inch away, Wooyoung smiled, motioning at you to go ahead. You started climbing the stairs, heart filled with profound feelings of appreciation for the structure that was doing its best to simply remain and not fall apart. A house built on magic and friendship- on love. You could appreciate that, because you knew that no matter how pretty or magnificent a house could look, it could still be the ugliest place to live in and feel like a prison.

You didn’t knock on his door since it was wide open and you could spot him standing outside with his hands extended towards the front, shadows surrounding him- black, inky fog. You figured he would detect your presence anyway so you just watched, not once feeling fear- strange since the townspeople cried when they heard his name-

Why? What had he done to earn that reputation? You did not understand how the Child of Shadows you knew from the rumours and stories from people around you was the same person who had the warmest gaze at times, who looked almost scared at times- especially when he had come back today.

However, it was not the warm gaze that greeted you when he turned his neck back to look at you. It was the same glowing eyes from last night- the ones that looked like silver stars dipped in shadows. And when his lips curved not in a smile but a smirk, you knew that he was not the same person you had breakfast with today.

Swallowing, you stepped forward as if possessed by those very shadows, as if they were moving your feet in the first place. You stopped by the window- the entrance to the little space outside, when he finally spoke.

“You stayed, little bird.”

You didn’t answer but stood beside him and watched how the magic worked. When you finally spoke, it was to say, “You’re not Mingi.”

“That’s the quickest a stranger has guessed, and the calmest they have been,” it smiled- this time, it was void of taunt. “What made you stay when I warned you of the consequences?”

“Exactly that,” you admitted, peeking up at it, liking how focused it looked. “I’ll die anyway.”

Mingi- or whoever was in that body, shrugged, so you asked it. “What are you?”

“Humans called me a demon before I possessed this body, so maybe I am a demon.”

You considered that- was that why Mingi was called the Child of Shadows? A shadow demon of sorts?

“Well, what’s your name then?”

It paused, the outstretched arms falling back as it turned to look at you and consider your question- in all of its time as a demon in a human vessel, no one had ever bothered to ask its name. Such a simple, human question yet it felt something bubbling in its throat- perhaps those human emotions it despised. Perhaps it was Mingi fighting back for conscious control. Whatever it was… the demon found it so strange that someone was not immediately quivering and kneeling despite the visible shadows around it, despite the knowledge that it was a demon as old as time, perhaps.

As if someone was looking at the demon itself for the first time- not Mingi’s eyes, but its own eyes.

“I might have forgotten my name,” it admitted. “I haven’t been called by my name in aeons.”

Aeons. Your heart sank and the demon felt that, but did not comment.

“What do they call you then? They must refer to you by some name, right?”

“They just call me Erebos.”

“So you won’t tell me what your name is?”

Again. The demon found itself looking at you and for the first time in a while, a genuine chuckle escaped it. You, amused, turned to look at the stretch of the night sky, not wanting it to feel satisfaction- if it could feel anything in the first place.

“You’re funny, little bird. I quite like you already.”

You shrugged. “I bet you say that to every human who talks to you. A demon starved of company.”

This time, it roared in laughter and you couldn’t help but compare it to the sound of Mingi’s own laughter you had heard in the morning. Somehow, this one sounded more human than Mingi’s own laugh. “Feisty. You’re not like this when you’re talking to Mingi. You sounded like you hated him.”

“It’s not him I hate, he saved me. He was the one who saved me, right?” You asked and it nodded. “It’s you who confused me. I didn’t know you were… two separate people. How does that even work? Where is Mingi now?”

“So many questions,” it tsk-ed. “Mingi saved you. It was me last night. Mingi during the day, and me right now. Since we have to live in one body, we might as well get along and divide our hours, was the White Flame’s genius plan.”

“And is… is Mingi here right now?” You looked at him.

“Over the years, we’ve started sharing our consciousness. We might not always be able to control it, but we can see, hear and feel what the other does.”

Oh. So Mingi was there last night too. And he was probably here, watching you interact with the demon who had possessed his body.

“Why did you possess him?”

The demon’s smile fell right as it heard the question and it almost glared at you. You understood why but you refused to cower under its scrutinising gaze. “That is not something you ask a demon, little bird.”

If you had any more questions, they were lost with the shadows now. Its gaze was hard and unwelcoming and you thought you might have made a mistake. You didn’t leave, though. Somehow, these shadows were still comforting enough.

—-----------------------

You may have given Erebos some company last night, but Mingi was hell-bent on pretending you did not exist. You supposed it was awkward for him too- to watch from afar, someone inside him taking control of his thoughts and actions. You were not sure what to make of it- did he not want you talking to Erebos at all? Even Seonghwa, who had warned you to stay in your room at nights, didn’t say much when he spotted you and the demon sharing silence.

Somehow, that seemed to weigh on your mind more than the fact that you were not in your town anymore. You had travelled all through the night and stopped at the vast expanse of field that bordered the river in the neighbouring town. Most of the day was spent sleeping and you finally woke up around sunset when you heard the faint tinkling of utensils in the kitchen. After washing up, you peeked through your door and spotted Seonghwa who seemed to sense you, turning around with a smile.

“Breakfast- or I suppose, dinner is ready,” he tasted one of the dishes and nodded to himself in satisfaction. You joined him near the counter and fiddled with the ends of your plain emerald dress that had ‘magically’ appeared in your wardrobe after Mingi went to town yesterday.

“The others?” You asked.

“Wooyoung’s out cold, Mingi is outside inspecting our new location,” he told you. “I hope we get to stay here longer this time. It’s beautiful here.”

“Really?” The sound of creaks filled the room as you walked towards the window and you audibly gasped as you took in the pink and golden hues reflecting on the crystal clear river with hills across it, the fluffiest clouds in the sky and the grass a beautiful, darker shade of green than you had seen in the forest.

You also spotted Mingi, standing at the back of the river and staring into the distance. With a nod from Seonghwa who muttered something about him waking Wooyoung up, you stepped outside and inhaled the scent of wet mud which calmed your otherwise raging nerves. You cautiously walked towards the looming figure and cleared your throat, making him glance back at you.

“Uh, dinner is ready,” you said, hating the way you sounded. You scanned his eyes and confirmed it was Mingi.

Even though he didn’t answer, you remained standing a few feet behind him, drowning in questions that you wished to ask but didn’t have the guts to- why was talking to the demon somehow easier than talking to the human? Before you could open your mouth to ask something that was already at the tip of your tongue, Seonghwa shouted for you two to get inside and you clicked your tongue in annoyance, not waiting for him this time as you returned to the house.

The silence that hung uncomfortably during dinner almost made you choke. You saw Seonghwa cautiously glance between you and Mingi multiple times, and if Wooyoung had not been so sleepy, he might have dared to comment on it. As soon as Mingi finished eating, he dropped his plates in the sink and said something about going into his room. When he disappeared, it felt like you could finally breathe.

“Is Mingi avoiding me?” You asked, worried you were disturbing the peace in this house- you had heard him laugh with the other two when you were not present and it hurt you that he was shutting you out more as time passed. “Is it because of something I did?”

“It’s just because he doesn’t like anyone interacting with Erebos,” Wooyoung answered. “It took us a lot of time to find the balance between our interactions with Erebos and Mingi too.”

“Well,” you pouted. “He should have warned me himself then, shouldn’t he?”

The two shrugged, perhaps used to these mood swings. You pouted further. “He shouldn’t have saved me in the forest and asked me to accompany him then.”

“You should say that to Mingi,” Wooyoung was stifling a smirk. “See how he answers that.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa warned, turning to you. “Mingi helps anyone who needs it. We help anyone who needs it, because we all know what it is like to feel trapped and helpless. Mingi knows that better than any of us, so do not question him on that. Just… give him some time. He’ll warm up to you.”

You sighed deeply, understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa smiled. “You’ll be fine.”

You did not go to find Erebos that night, waiting instead for Mingi the next morning at the same spot he had been in yesterday, at the bank of the river. And surprisingly, it was him who joined you with a book this time.

“Are you feeling well?” He inquired and you tried not to let the surprise show on your face.

“I am, thank you for asking,” you tucked the hair that blew with the breeze back in the clip. “Are you okay?”

“Why would I not be okay?” He glanced at you.

“Are we okay?” You rephrased it and he sighed.

“I’m sorry if I was being an ass. You’ve… met Erebos, right?” You nodded and he continued. “Over time, I’ve learned to cohabitate with the demon in my body. It wasn’t always so manageable but it’s unusual for a human body to contain a demon within it for such a long period of time.”

Human body. Mingi was once human.

“Do you wish to be free?”

Mingi smiled at that. “I was anything but free when I was human. Ironically, the demon possessing me gave me more freedom than I ever had. I guess that is why we can tolerate each other now.”

“Why did you say you want me to stay away from you then?” You asked, curiosity taking the better of you.

Mingi’s smile seemed to be painful. “Why would you not stay away from a demon, y/n?”

“But you’re human… aren’t you? Or a mage now,” you wondered out loud. “Should I stay away from you too?”

Mingi didn’t answer that. He opened his book and scrolled through a few pages, buying time to think. You kept watching him- it felt like he was finally opening up to you, still so cautious and hesitant. “I don’t know.”

Despite the impending sense of danger, you found your frown relaxing and lips curving into a smile and when Mingi saw you, he smiled back.

Perhaps, this was the first step the two of you took together.

“I’d say we should stay away from you,” Mingi found himself saying with a teasing tone. “You humans are always so reckless. And that smile is unnerving.”

Your smile widened. “You don’t get human company often, do you?”

Mingi’s smile fell again and you decided it wasn’t a topic they wanted to talk about- neither of them. You cleared your throat. “Thank you for saving me that day. I don’t think I got the chance to thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, looking back at his book. “I felt your senses numbed because of the potions. I couldn’t simply leave you be.”

“Thank you for today too,” you almost whispered.

“Today?”

“For finally talking to me- I thought you were cross with me,” you explained.

“I still am, a little, just not with you,” he admitted, sighing deeply. “I don’t like the way Erebos talks to you, if I’m honest. It’s new.”

You pursed your lips- that explained his behaviour and the way he avoided you. He continued, “I won’t stop you from interacting with Erebos. Just be careful, okay?”

You nodded and sank your feet in the bare grass as Mingi went back to reading his book, the silence between you two comfortable for the first time.

—--------------------

You were settling into a routine in the house and it seemed like they had accepted you as a housemate.

It would have been much more difficult if it weren’t for the White Flame’s warm nature. You wondered how time hadn’t hardened him- he was more considerate than any human or mage you had ever met. You found his nature almost doting as he instructed you on the tasks you had to practically beg to share. As he taught you how to fix broken pipes or dangling planks, you shared stories of your life. He learned that you had been a servant in your own house before your stepmother resorted to imprisoning you in the tower because you tried to run away a few too many times.

You learned that he wasn’t an angel at all- he was also a demon, though a different kind than Erebos. He resembled angels too much- both in his appearance and mannerisms and was outcasted by the demons. The angels didn’t accept him either. That’s how he earned one of his names ‘The Fallen Angel’, though he complained about the inaccuracy. You asked him if he was still calming you with his magic when you were around him, and he revealed that he had stopped doing that when you decided to stay.

When Seonghwa was busy, you were with Wooyoung who didn’t have a fixed room for his experiments- he would drag his bag of potions anywhere he pleased and make home there, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance, though his smile would betray him. He filled any room with his presence, with his annoying but lovable loud laughter, with his stories and jokes. You finally told him that he had once come to your home and treated your father when he was suffering from the plague a few years ago, the one that took his life. He remembered that and was very surprised to learn that you were that man’s daughter.

“He told me I could trust you if the time ever came,” you had explained. “He told me to find you if things ever went south. I think he knew what was coming but couldn’t do anything about it.”

“He was a wise man,” Wooyoung had admitted. “And he couldn’t stop talking about you while I tried to heal him. You were so young, y/n. What did they do to you? You used to live like a princess.”

And that was the first time in years you shed tears for the life that was taken from you. When you cried, Seonghwa passed you a cup of tea and Wooyoung continued burning incense, muttering something about how some humans were worse than monsters. They let you cry in silence for as long as you wanted.

That night, it was Erebos who found you sitting on the roof, legs dangling. It tsk-ed as it nudged your thigh with its bare foot.

“I’m trying to attempt shadow-travel but I can’t focus because I can practically smell your tears and grief.”

“Shadow-travel?” You asked, and he scoffed at the curiosity behind your glazed eyes.

“I have some business to take care of in town, and it’s quicker to travel that way.”

“What business would you have?”

“I, too, have a life,” it slumped down next to you. “Would you like to join, little bird?”

“Can I?” You asked, wondering if Mingi would be okay with it in the morning.

“Yes, Mingi would be okay with it,” it rolled its eyes. “Can practically hear your thoughts.”

You stifled a grin, wiping your eyes. “Shall I get my cloak then?”

Erebos showed you around town- you decided to walk instead of shadow-travel- travelling that way with a human was risky business, it explained. You felt nostalgic as you walked in the lantern-lit streets, the smell of food and smoke filling you with an unexplainable glee in your heart. Erebos made you sit on one of the benches with a sandwich to keep you busy while it disappeared in the shadows. You didn’t complain- you were more than pleased to simply sit and observe the bustle. You hadn’t had such luxury in a while.

You almost didn’t notice the commotion behind you until you heard the faint sound of screams and you whipped your head towards the source, wondering where Erebos had disappeared. You decided to stick to its strict order not to move from this bench until it found you. Moments later, the demon was back, the people making way for it and you gaped at it.

“At least wipe the smug look off your face,” you muttered, making it grin. “What were you doing?”

“I don’t like unfinished business- especially when it’s people trying to start things that shouldn’t be messed with in the first place.”

You gulped at the threatening tone and it shook its head. “I can taste your fear, little bird.”

“I’m human, demon,” you taunted, making it laugh. “And I do not want to know what happened there. Just tell me if you hurt innocent people.”

“I may be a demon but I have morals too,” it tsk-ed in disappointment and you shrugged, falling in step with it as you went further away from town. “I never attack a human first.”

You asked why it needed morals when it was a demon and could do as it pleased. It told you that demons weren’t like how humans sketched them out to be in their poems and tales- they were much more than that. Despite being dark in nature, they weren’t consumed by evil just like humans weren’t all good, and angels not all that pure. Even as you reached the house, you spent the night learning about how demons were creatures with strict principles that they followed. You learnt that demons could feel emotions too, though time hardened them and morphed them, often into something unrecognisable. Erebos appreciated Seonghwa and told you how it was saved by him when it found itself in Mingi’s body, and how ever since they met Wooyoung, he was trying his best to make it easier for the two to cohabitate in one body.

And every time you interacted with the demon, just before you parted ways for the night, you would ask its name and it would look at you with unreadable eyes. You never got an answer.

Though your appreciation for Seonghwa and Wooyoung grew, you couldn’t help but appreciate Erebos too, you told it, for simply cooperating when it could have given up and taken control of Mingi long ago. It smiled and told you it wasn’t always so compliant and only settled down when it learned that it needed to find a way to leave this vessel without dying.

Mingi, you felt, was making a conscious effort to check up on you everyday- especially if you interacted with Erebos the night before. He never asked why or what you talked about, and you thought it was for the better. Since everyone else treated them as separate persons, you might as well too.

But it was so hard to look at Mingi and not see his lips curled in a smirk- something that you had started to look forward to, an expression that once put distaste in your mouth but now made your heart skip a beat. It was hard to see his eyes and not find the twinkle of stars in his dark irises. It was hard to hear his voice and not find it almost echoing within your skull.

And tonight, as your feet padded down the stairs, wanting to get fresh air having just woken up from a nightmare that you were back in the tower, you found Mingi relaxing in the sofa seat next to the fireplace-

Not Mingi. Erebos.

“Way past your bedtime, little bird,” it said without looking at you.

“Very unlike you to just sit and stare at the fire… demon,” you countered, watching its body shake with laughter as you went to the kitchen to drink water. You joined it, sitting on the other seat with the glass half full. “No hunting humans tonight?”

“There’s you,” it commented. “I don’t even need to go to town.”

This time, your heart didn’t sink to your feet in fear but skipped a beat, drawing a frown on its face. You sipped the water, suddenly very interested in the burning fire as you recovered.

“Someone couldn’t sleep well.”

“Right,” you sighed. “Do you need sleep?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re abusing Mingi’s body with lack of sleep.”

“He can sleep as long as he pleases when it’s his shift,” Erebos waved a hand in dismissal. “I have better things to do.”

“Definitely,” you muttered and Erebos raised a brow before leaning forward so it could meet your eyes.

“I don’t like that mocking tone, little bird.”

Though it was meant to threaten you, you rolled your eyes simply because Erebos was looking like it was enjoying this way too much. “Mean it when you say it then.”

Erebos clenched its jaws before relaxing back. “You’re not like this when you talk to Mingi or the others.”

You mirrored its posture. “You’re different.”

Perhaps, that’s not how you should have worded it. You saw Erebos’s eyes flash before you could correct yourself, its fists clenching and unclenching as if it was trying to control a response. You cleared your throat. “I mean… they don’t go around calling me ‘little bird’ and try to scare me or something. Wooyoung said it might be because you feed on fear.”

“Wooyoung was right, and I’ve been starving recently,” it licked its lips. “You’ve stopped fearing me, little bird. Not like you used to. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“That’s such a shallow way of thinking!” You couldn’t help the outburst. “When’s the last time you had a friend other than Seonghwa and Wooyoung?”

“They’re not my friends.” This time, Erebos’s voice did shake you. “They’ve been trying to get rid of me ever since they met me.”

“They’re trying to help you both,” you corrected and Erebos scoffed. “Do you like pushing people away? Do you like being alone, Erebos?”

“I’m not human enough to crave company or ‘like’ anything,” Erebos replied. “But I suppose I prefer when a certain human is not eating my ears off.”

You deadpan stared at the demon and it laughed in response. You shook your head, getting up. “Well, you can have the rest of the night with the one you love the most- your own self.”

Before you could take your third step, your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled towards a body- Mingi’s body, towards Erebos. It intertwined its hand with yours, noticing the glass still in the other hand. With a smirk, it twirled you around, earning a surprised yelp from you, leading you to the mantle of the fireplace. You placed the glass there just in time before you were pulled back.

“What are you doing?” You asked between laughs as you tried regaining your balance, your free hand instinctively going to hold Erebos’s. It scoffed in amusement, towering over you as it looked down at you.

Erebos didn’t bother responding, simply shifting its hands in yours, watching your small hands intertwine in its large ones and you felt butterflies as you detected wonder in its eyes. The demon was then swaying you in small motions as it scanned every inch of you, practically drinking in the sight and you felt so exposed that you wished you could go back to the darkness you were so used to in the tower back home.

“What are you doing?” You repeated, this time a whisper. Erebos met your eyes and you thought you saw its defences fall for a fraction of a second before it passed. The demon pulled you closer, just a step but enough that your bodies almost brushed.

“Why are you doing this to me, little bird?” It tilted its head.

“What did I do?” You dared to ask, feeling overwhelmed by the closeness of your bodies, by the fact that this was a demon in front of you, by the shadows that had now started to seep out of it.

Erebos scanned you one last time. “You should go back to sleep.”

None of you made a move to let go of the other’s hands, none of you looked away from the other. Not until you saw Erebos clench its eyes shut in pain. You squeezed its hands once, softly, before drawing back. The demon opened its eyes, almost out of breath. You stepped away, turning to go but stopping midway.

You turned to look at it one last time. “What is your name… demon?”

For the first time since you were here, Erebos passed an actual smile, waving its hand in dismissal. You smiled back before going back to your room-

Unable to sleep for the remainder of the night.

—--------------------

This time, Mingi was avoiding you on purpose. It was unsettling- you tried to strike up a conversation with him but his answers were dry and his smile didn’t meet his eyes. You ignored it until a few days passed, neither Mingi nor Erebos in your sight and when you were making your way to Mingi’s room to confront him, you noticed him in the hallway instead, bending down in the left corner and placing what looked like a scroll under the gap, sealing the plank back. You reckoned it must be something important he had to hide so you waited a few minutes until he got up.

You came into his sight and said, “You’ve been busy these days.”

“I have been,” he confirmed. For a second, you wondered if it really was just him being busy, having some ‘business’ to deal with in town, which he had explained a few days ago was attending the Conference of Mages which dealt with peace and accountability of rogue mages. But when his eyes didn’t meet yours, your suspicions were confirmed. He tried passing you but you spread your arms.

“I’m not letting you pass until you tell me why you are avoiding me- and don’t give me the same excuse.”

Mingi sighed in defeat- one thing he had learned about you was that you could be very, very stubborn. “I just needed to clear my head. We both did.”

We both.

You finally dropped your arms and followed him to the kitchen- he told you he just came home and wanted to grab something to eat. You stood awkwardly by the dainty glass decorations that Wooyoung had glued to the surface of one of the shelves so they wouldn’t fall when the house moved. You cleared your throat. “Did I do something wrong?”

Mingi didn’t like the way your voice shook when you asked that. He passed you a tight smile as he came to stand near the bookshelf, watching you. “You didn’t. It’s me this time.”

You stopped wiping, locking eyes with him. “What did you do?”

“I broke a rule- when Erebos and you were having… a moment… a few nights ago, I tried to take over. Erebos didn’t like it.”

You instantly knew what Mingi was talking about- when Erebos had clenched its eyes shut in pain. Your mouth parted and shut multiple times, trying to think of how to word your next question-

“I know,” Mingi answered anyway. “I shouldn’t have done it, but… I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way Erebos was looking at you.”

What way was Erebos looking at you, and why did Mingi not like it?

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you almost whispered, drawing a step away, feeling overwhelmed by the proximity and his curious eyes on you. “I… I don’t like when you avoid me, Mingi. If my presence here is making it hard for you, I can leave-”

“Not at all,” he stepped forward as if to reach for you but stopped himself. “That’s not it.”

“I just miss you,” you exhaled in relief. “I wish you could tell me these things. I wish you would let me in, Mingi.”

Mingi looked like he was in pain and for a moment, you wondered if you had said something wrong. He finally smiled, taking another step forward and this time, you let him. You let him put his hands hesitantly on your shoulders.

“You’re right- I should have just talked to you. Avoiding you won’t make anything right. I’m sorry.”

“I wish you would stop saying sorry too,” you smiled and he finally laughed.

“I just am. I’ll try not to do that again, but I can’t promise. It’s hard when you’re not in control of your own actions, and if Erebos tries something with you, I don’t want you to look at me differently.”

So that’s what it was. You put your hands over his. “You’re not Erebos. Erebos is not you. I know that very well. Even though you share a body, you don’t look the same, don’t feel the same,” you said and Mingi gave your shoulders a squeeze. “We’re just y/n and Mingi right now, so talk to me, okay?”

Mingi nodded and asked if you wanted to join him for dinner- he didn’t have much time until Erebos would take over. You nodded and started setting the table, Mingi helping and he told you about the conference that took place today and how Erebos was also a part of it, helping eliminate threats to both humans and mages. You told him you learned to make bread pudding with Seonghwa and waited for him to try it, grinning when he told you it was better than Seonghwa’s.

It was so easy to talk to Mingi like this- an exchange of how your day went, sharing bits and pieces of your past sometimes, joking with each other- Mingi wasn’t very shy when talking which helped a lot. He enjoyed chatting with everyone but sometimes, you wondered if he was reminded of something from his past when he would zone out or his smile would fade. Just like now.

“Are you with me?” You asked cautiously, wondering if you were going to see the shift.

“I’m here,” Mingi blinked, shaking his head. “Just got lost for a second.”

“Is my company that boring to you?” You pouted.

“It’s not that,” he shook his head. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had such mundane interactions.”

“Does it remind you of the time when you were human?” You dared to ask. He didn’t mind, thankfully.

“Not really, but… we’ve had a few human guests over the time. Some stayed until their end. Some left because they saw what living here would mean for them. Now that we have you in our house, we enjoy the company. We’re a bit bored of each other, the rest of us, so we really don’t mind you. It’s just sad to think how it will come to an end one day.”

“You’re worrying about the future when you haven’t even tried living in the present… aren’t you?”

“It’s you humans who think living in the present is the right way. You understand later that every decision you make in the present influences the future. And when something bad happens, you start tracing it back to the moment it started going wrong. It’s too late then.”

“Then there’s no way of knowing if the decisions I make will be good for me. Does it really matter if they are good for me?” You paused, thinking about Erebos all of a sudden. Thinking about the way your skin ignited with pleasure for the first time and how you longed to feel that way again. “Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“You don’t mean that,” Mingi almost whispered, his raspy voice making you shiver involuntarily. You wondered if he had read your mind.

“Do you feel what Erebos does too?” You asked, leaning forward as well. “Where do your feelings differentiate?”

“Erebos is a demon, it doesn’t feel-”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head. “You can’t tell me that when you haven’t seen the way its eyes changed that night.”

“Y/n-” Mingi warned, the left side of his face twitching. “I know I said I don’t mind you talking to Erebos, but it is a demon. It will take advantage of you at some point- that is its nature.”

“I can take care of myself,” you drew back and watched Mingi sigh in frustration. “You should understand that Erebos hasn’t done anything that I didn’t like.”

You let that confession hang in the air and Mingi tried processing it but he was so confused. Just why were you so fearless, so stubborn, especially about this? It’s almost like-

Like you had no reason to be afraid of.

Mingi got up abruptly, almost giving you a jumpscare. He looked at you, feeling out of breath. “You’re on your own then. But please be careful.”

You made a mental note to ask Erebos just what he had done to their human guests in the past as you watched Mingi disappear into his room. You didn’t want to see Erebos tonight, though. If the demon could give you this cold treatment, you could return that too. Even if for one night.

—------------------

“There’s something wrong with her.”

“Are you sure she’s not simply sulking?” Wooyoung glanced at Seonghwa who shook his head in denial.

“She’s never been this quiet since she came. She’s like you- always babbling-”

“I can hear you,” you called out, not bothering to look at the duo, instead continuing to stare into the fire with an unfinished black crochet scarf in your hands.

“Why are you so quiet today? Is it because I scolded you when you forgot to turn the oven off?” Seonghwa asked.

You finally looked at the Fallen Angel who thought you were worried because you left the burner on. He scoffed at your amused expressions. “That’s not it.”

“Let her be, everyone needs some peace and quiet sometimes,” Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal, going back to messing with his potions. “I need some peace and quiet today too.”

“Right,” Seonghwa muttered. “If you make it past half an hour without speaking a word, I’ll let you use me as your lab rat for your next experiment.”

You gasped at his offer because you had seen Wooyoung dissect dead animals and it was not a pretty sight. Wooyoung’s eyes, however, glinted as he accepted the challenge. You sighed, going back to staring at the fire.

You kept thinking about every interaction you had had with Mingi and Erebos so far. Even though you knew they were two separate entities, you were worried you weren’t making the distinction clear- when you were angry with Erebos, Mingi got to deal with the aftermath and vice versa.

Mingi was still the same old person he was from the first day he met you. You would join him with a book by the river when he wasn’t out or you would exchange stories at the table. He stopped asking you about Erebos- you figured you had struck the right chord that day. Instead, he now answered your silly but curious questions about magic, about their travels and adventures. He would ask if you had a good sleep or if you learned anything new from the boys who were teaching you anything you were willing to learn. It was comfortable to talk to Mingi now and you had started looking forward to your interactions with him.

Erebos, however, was not the same person you had encountered on your first night here, the one who was so unwilling to look at you and wanted you to run away. If you could look at it from an objective lens, you were pretty sure Erebos was warming up to you. You had a habit of sleeping very late at night so you spent most nights hanging out with the demon- sometimes inside as you both fought your own battles in silence, occasionally exchanging words. Or sometimes, you would lie down with him on the grass and stare at the sky until you fell asleep and later wake up in your bed.

And when you had a moment with one of them, one that made you feel unexplainable things, one that made you shiver or made your heart flutter, you found yourself expecting it to be the same with the other. It wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t help it.

You kept mindlessly crocheting or resorting to staring into the fire even when Wooyoung finally gave up staying silent and Seonghwa and him started to argue like children. Mingi came and joined the ruckus and you only passed a small smile, busying yourself. The day passed just like that and at some point, you must have fallen asleep on the sofa because when you woke up, Erebos was seated right in front of you, watching you with curious eyes.

You blinked away the sleep, suddenly feeling conscious of the way the neckline of your dress exposed your left shoulder more than intended. You straightened your dress and watched Erebos relax back.

“How long have you been sitting and staring?”

“Not long,” it replied. You were pretty sure that was a lie.

“Not going to the conference tonight?” You inquired.

“I got a message- it has been delayed,” Erebos licked its lips slowly. “Why were you sleeping here?”

“I was…” waiting to see you- “crocheting…”

“I don’t see any evidence of that.”

You looked down in your lap and laughed a little- it must have been Wooyoung or Seonghwa who placed the material away and put a blanket on you. You pursed your lips. “You’re talkative tonight.”

“I bet you like that,” Erebos cocked its head.

“See?” You managed to say despite the fluttering of your stomach. “Very talkative. Go scare a human in town or something…”

Erebos let out a deep laugh and you joined, shaking your head. You stretched, spotting the new moon outside. “The sky is lovely tonight.”

“Do you want to climb the hill you’ve been watching every day since you came here? Might give you a better view.”

An offer. You smiled and nodded, getting up and drinking a glass of water before joining the demon outside. The hill was across the river and you wondered if you were going to make a round trip, but-

“We’re going through the river. I’ll make a boat for you.”

“There’s no way I’m going through the river,” you halted, Erebos laughing yet again. “I’ll drown!”

“Just like this house moves on tyres made of shadow, I can materialise a boat for us to travel in. It will be safe-”

“No-”

“And I will be right next to you,” the demon completed and you pressed your lips in a tight line. “You won’t drown.”

You didn’t answer, looking at the awfully still surface of the river. Erebos stood next to you and you felt your fingers brush its own.

“I won’t let you drown. Do you trust me, little bird?”

Did you trust the demon with your life? You could practically hear the sound of your own heart as you nudged its fingers with yours. A leap of faith. You watched Erebos’s lips curl into a smile and it spread his hands forward, shadow seeping out of the body until a black boat stood in the river. Erebos stepped inside first and even though you had seen the shadow tyres support the weight of this house, you still gasped in surprise.

The demon extended its hand for you. You didn’t hesitate to take it this time and it helped you settle in the boat but you refused to let its hand go and it made it chuckle. With its other hand, it steered the boat swiftly towards the other end and you laughed in both surprise and fear, water droplets spraying your face when you peeked out of the boat though you didn’t mind one bit- it was so thrilling. More thrilling than anything you had ever experienced in your lifetime.

And when you looked at Erebos with the biggest smile on your face, the demon felt its heart ache and it wondered if it was because of Mingi even though it had pushed Mingi far, far away into its subconscious. You felt its hands grip yours tighter as if squeezing it and you didn’t look away from its face until you reached.

The climb up the hill was just as silent, none of you letting go of the other’s hand. You let it be- it certainly helped you move faster as Erebos instructed you where to step and where not to. When you reached the peak and you were out of breath, Erebos helped you settle on a rock, finally leaving your hand only to shake its head and dig out a handkerchief from its pocket.

“Look at you, all spent just because you climbed a few rocks,” it tsk-ed and you pouted. Shaking its head again, it started wiping the sweat off your forehead, grinning to itself at the state of your hair blown back. Putting its handkerchief away, the demon pushed your hair away from your face, caressing your head with a faint smile-

And finally noticing the look on your face. The wide, curious eyes, the hesitant look in them, the parted lips. The uneven breaths.

You watched its eyes flash with something indecipherable yet again as it scanned your face, noticing its thumb almost at the corner of your lips. You watched its brows furrow as a flurry of emotions crossed its face- emotions you had never seen on anyone’s face before. You couldn’t hear the sound of cicadas or the wind anymore, only the rustling of your hair as its hand moved away from your face only to slide its thumb across your lower lip.

Even if Erebos didn’t watch your eyes to confirm, it could feel your heart beating as if it was an extension of its own pulse, taste the excitement mixed with a little bit of fear in the air. And locking eyes with you only made the demon more confused- you looked so vulnerable in that moment that its primal instincts shouted at it to shatter you, but it pushed them away. It pushed everything away and drew its hand back, about to move away but-

But you grabbed its hand in yours. You did not know what took over you in that moment, but you placed its thumb back where it was- between your parted lips.

And then you kissed it softly.

You heard the demon stifle a cry- of pain? Of surprise? You did not care. You locked eyes with the figure towering over you, ready to meet your fate.

And when the demon cupped your face with a hesitancy that almost broke you, you licked your lips, so eager to meet its own. When it inched closer, you let your hands grip its wrists, and when your nose brushed with its own sharp nose, you let out a small exhale. You were both at a loss of words at that moment, so you only arched your neck up to let it know you needed this, perhaps as much as the demon itself.

A demon starved of love, starved of affection. That’s what Erebos was. And when it pushed every thought away and brushed its lips across yours, it finally understood that it never craved fear-

It craved this.

Parting its own lips, it kissed you, for the first time in its life- it did not count the times Mingi had kissed his past lovers because Erebos thought it was disgusting and hid itself so far away in Mingi’s subconscious that it didn’t even remember what happened later. This was the first time the demon itself was in charge, and it had no idea what to do but found itself locking and unlocking its lips with yours, its hand automatically going to grip your neck. It swallowed your moan of pleasure, kissing you deeper and deeper until you almost slipped from the rock and your hands went around its neck for support, breaking apart from the kiss-

And looking at the demon, its eyes wide and perhaps as vulnerable as yours.

Erebos picked you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise and wrap your legs around its waist- perhaps, a wrong move because there was an unquestionable fire in its eyes. It led you to another rock and placed you on it so that your heights matched, out of breath- you wondered how a demon was out of breath now. You didn’t unwrap your legs, not quite, and you didn’t need to because it gripped your hip with one hand and brought you closer, craning your neck with the other and going back to kissing you, deeper and more desperate this time. You kissed back with equal urgency, welcoming its tongue in yours, feeling its hand creep up inside your dress and you finally drew back-

“Erebos-”

It swallowed your name back in another kiss and for a moment, you saw stars. This couldn’t be how it felt kissing a human, you wondered. Was it because Erebos was a demon? It couldn’t be like this, setting you on fire wherever its hands traced your skin and nails dug in, making you buzz with excitement and want-

“Erebos, please,” you broke away, pushing the blue and black strand of its hair back. “Look at me.”

Erebos locked its eyes with you and you felt your heart sink when you saw nothing but darkness in its eyes. It inched closer, kissing your jaw and sucking and nibbling on your neck almost harshly, and you stifled your moans-

“Not like this, Erebos,” you pleaded, cupping its face again and making it lock eyes with you. “Where are the stars in your eyes, demon?”

That seemed to click something in its minds as the pupils lightened and the twinkle of its eyes returned. It took deep, uneven breaths, caressing your face with both hands.

“I- I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” you assured the demon, though you had no idea either. “It’s okay-”

“Did I hurt you?” Erebos voice sounded so fragile that you felt the sting of tears in your eyes- this was the demon they warned you to stay away from? You watched its eyes darken when it inspected a bruise forming on your neck. “...I hurt you.”

“No, no you didn’t, look at me,” you scolded, pecking its lips again. “You didn’t hurt me. You just… I don’t know. Where did you go?”

Erebos looked so confused. You buried your face in its neck as you brought its body closer to you. “Thank you for bringing me here tonight.”

The demon caressed your head as it clenched its eyes shut again, in pain- Mingi was doing it again, trying to take over. Erebos supposed he had every right to now. However, it would not let Mingi take this moment from it, not again. So with all its willpower, Erebos pushed Mingi away and kissed the top of your head.

“Little bird,” it whispered. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

—---------------------

What had you gotten yourself into?

It was your turn to avoid Mingi this time, simply because you couldn’t face him. Not when you did what you did last night and Mingi shared the same body as Erebos.

What were you thinking?

You were mortified, yes, but you also did not regret one bit of it, if you were honest with yourself. Mingi could be angry with you all he wanted.

You might have regretted it- Erebos was a demon. You still didn’t understand why its eyes went so dark as if the demon lost itself for a moment, but when you called its name and it came back, when it asked if you were hurt as if it pained the demon itself…

You simply couldn’t imagine why Erebos looked at you with such worried eyes. Why would a demon care if it hurt you or not, unless it actually cared?

And if it actually cared… What did it mean for you?

“Little bird, what have you gotten yourself into?”

You refused to leave your room even after you woke up, even when your stomach grumbled with hunger. Even Seonghwa got worried and checked in on you with a tray of food, understanding something must have happened between you and Mingi- or Erebos. Thankfully, he didn’t insist you join them. He let you have your space and you were grateful for that.

That night, Erebos didn’t come to look for you either. You remained cooped up in your room, obsessively cleaning it to make up for the guilt of slacking on your other duties and sometimes peeking out of the window- neither Mingi nor Erebos seemed to have gone out today.

The next day, Seonghwa had had enough of your moping and came into your room, clicking a wooden spoon on a metal dish as morning bells to wake you up. You groaned and hid your face in the pillow but Seonghwa made the pillow burst into feathers with his magic, making you almost cry.

“I only tolerate moping for one day, y/n,” he told you as if it was a rule you had to abide by to live in this house. “Get up. Fix any broken planks- the wind last night was strong- and then join me on the roof for cleaning.”

“Why won’t you use your magic to clean?” You sighed and he ignored that, going in the next room to wake Wooyoung up- you could hear him yelling in response. Smiling at that, you finally got up and stumbled towards the bathroom, nearly forgetting Mingi lived in this very house until you bumped into a body in the hallway and muttered apologies-

Only to look up and see Mingi.

“Uh, I was just,” you pointed to the bathroom and he scanned your face, making you gulp. He muttered a sorry before letting you walk past him and when you entered the bathroom, you shut the door and nearly sank down the door.

How were you going to face him?

You were very distracted as you fixed the planks dangling by the window in the hallway, almost nailing your finger a couple of times. When you were done, you were about to head to the roof when you almost tripped on your feet-

You looked down and spotted a plank a little lifted in the air that had caused you to almost fall face-first. You were about to nail it when you recalled that this was the spot Mingi had hid something that day- you should probably not nail it.

Curiosity took the better of you and you moved the plank- there was indeed a scroll inside. Looking around, you hesitated a bit before you took out the scroll and unrolled it, a few verses of what looked like a poem on it-

“Once the shadow, once the light

As one, the two must thrive

A curse both must fight

To one’s end, they dive

For love, with all their might

Hearts awakened, live alive”

You figured it might be Mingi’s sad attempt at poetry and put the scroll back where it was, fixing the plank better- if he had to hide it, he could at least hide it properly.

Thankfully, he was not on roof cleaning duty with you and when you went to join Seonghwa there after a light breakfast, he passed you a sceptical look before handing you the mop.

“What’s up with you these days?”

You wondered how to answer that. Seonghwa tsk-ed at you. “Why are you avoiding Mingi?”

“Erebos,” you gave in and Seonghwa raised a brow. “Because of Erebos. Because…” you groaned in frustration. “I don’t know. I might have done something stupid. I don’t know how to face Mingi.”

“Just talk to him,” he told you, attacking a corner on the floor with a mop and you suppressed a giggle at his dedication. “Avoiding each other won’t do either of you any good. It might calm Erebos down too.”

“Why? What happened to Erebos?”

“I think it’s angry with Mingi for trying to take control of him again,” Seonghwa revealed and you wondered if that happened while you were on the hill two nights ago. “The last time this happened, the conflict grew until Erebos took full control of Mingi and didn’t let him back in for a while. So my advice is, just talk and smother their conflict if you’re involved.”

You bit your lips- you were messing things up. You didn’t mean for it to happen this way, and you needed to confront Mingi now.

So after you were done for the day, when there were a few hours left until sunset, you knocked on Mingi’s door. When he opened the door and looked surprised, you half expected him to slam the door in your face but he simply passed a smile.

“What brings you here?”

He noticed the flush on your cheeks. He didn’t need your answer, he knew why you were here. So before you could say something, he opened the door wider and let you in.

You had been in his room maybe twice before, but you still enjoyed looking around at the desk next to the window with a lamp and notes sprawled across its surface, the blue and grey curtains and pillows- had he matched on purpose? The paintings of shadows on his wall that must have been Erebos’s doing. You sat at the edge of the bed and he took the seat near you.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“I am,” his voice was low. “Are you?”

“I think, yes,” you wanted to meet his eyes but couldn’t look at him. “I wanted to talk to you about… two nights ago.” Mingi shifted uncomfortably at the mention and you licked your suddenly dry lips as you finally locked eyes with him. “Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you?” Mingi’s voice was almost a whisper and it only confused you further.

“I… I don’t know what you’re thinking, Mingi,” you sighed. “I expected you to come bursting through my room and yell at me, warn me to be careful or something, but you… both of you- why are you giving me space now?”

Mingi took a deep breath. “I do want to ask you why you kissed Erebos. But… it’s not my place to ask, is it?”

“I mean…” your cheeks were flushing. “You do share a body, unfortunately. Maybe you do have a right to ask.”

Mingi took another deep breath. “I’ve lived a long life, y/n. I’ve had lovers in the past too. At first, navigating my relationships was awkward- especially when Erebos and I didn’t have better control of ourselves. And Erebos drove away anyone I got close to- more often unintentionally. No one likes demons- but you,” he cocked his head. “You’re different when you’re with Erebos. You’re not like that with me.”

“Do you wish I was?”

“And you ask the most unexpected questions,” he smiled in defeat. “So tell me, why did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, finally feeling a bit relaxed now that he had broken the ice. A part of you wished you and Mingi could talk about it as if Erebos was a separate, independent entity. “I like Erebos. The demon… is not all that bad. And I might have regretted it but… sometimes I feel like it has a heart too, you know? The way it talks or looks at certain things…”

“Erebos does not have a heart,” Mingi reminded you softly, leaning forward. “And I’m scared the demon might take advantage of you.”

“I understand your worries, Mingi,” you nodded. “But really, I think I know what I’m doing. I just want to know if you’re okay with that. I will take a step back but I won’t stop spending time with Erebos.”

“I’m not okay with that,” Mingi said after a moment and you frowned in confusion. “I… I don’t want you to get hurt. If Erebos does something… I fear you’ll look at me with hatred and disgust in your eyes.”

“Oh, Mingi,” you got up- he was genuinely worried about you. How stupid had you been to dismiss that? “I would never…”

“That’s the thing, y/n,” he shook his head with a sad smile. “I’ve always had to deal with the aftermath of things I didn’t do. I’m afraid it will happen again.”

“What did Erebos do?” You asked, walking cautiously towards him and he looked up at you with guarded eyes. “I’m sorry for your pain.”

“It’s okay,” he looked down. “I haven’t been all that good either. I’m no better than a demon myself-”

“You’re wrong,” you brought shaking hands to hold his face and make him look at you. “You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve met, Mingi. You saved me and I am forever in your debt-”

“There’s no debt-”

“No, listen,” your brows furrowed in focus as you locked eyes with his dark pupils, trying not to imagine the stars in his eyes you had started to love. “I like where we are, Mingi. I wish you would open up to me more and stop being cautious. I wish you would tell me exactly what bothers you so I can at least do something about it instead of treading carefully around you. I wish you would… look at me, Mingi.”

You didn’t know where the words came from, but one thing you were sure about was that you were addressing Mingi, not Erebos.

“How can I look at you when every time you look at me, you think of the demon inside me?”

You smiled at that. “These brown eyes of yours don’t belong to the demon. Nor does the kindness in them. Neither are they so guarded-” you traced his brows and Mingi inhaled sharply. “And your smile- it isn’t taunting. It isn’t demanding. It is the loveliest smile I’ve seen and produces the loveliest sounds I’ve heard- they’re yours.”

This time, you couldn’t help but trace his lips. The same lips that had kissed you, the same softness of them- your heart fluttered at the proximity and switch of positions now. Mingi, however, was in a trance and didn’t move at all, only watching you staring at his lips for the longest time until you blinked, finally coming back to reality. You smiled again, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“When I see you, I only see you,” you said- it wasn’t a lie. “And when I see Erebos… I only see the demon. I’m trying my best not to mix the two. You don’t have to be worried about what Erebos does to me, just as Erebos is not worried about what you do with me.”

“And what makes you think Erebos is not worried?” Mingi said and you raised a brow, drawing your hands away from his face. “Do you know why I didn’t come yelling at you yesterday? Because Erebos took over me every time I thought of that.”

Despite the graveness of the topic, you couldn’t help but laugh at that and soon Mingi joined, both of you shaking your heads in amusement. “So I was right about you. I do know you.”

“No you don’t,” Mingi scoffed and for a moment, you saw Erebos behind those eyes. “Anyways, it’s really not a good idea, whatever you think you’re doing. Ask Erebos tonight what he wants with you, will you?”

So you waited for Erebos by the fireplace like you usually did. And this time, Erebos joined, hesitancy in its steps so unlike its usual behaviour. The demon slumped down on the sofa across you and stared daggers into the fireplace.

“Someone’s sulking,” you commented.

“Not in the mood tonight, little bird.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“I don’t,” you straightened, not liking its tone. “So tell me why.”

“Why did you talk to Mingi about us?”

The demon finally met eyes with you and you wiped any expressions off your face before you replied, “I didn’t realise I was not allowed to talk with Mingi about the very demon who lives inside him.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” it clenched its jaw and you realised you did. But you weren’t going to admit it.

“Why don’t you tell me what exactly you didn’t like?”

“Look at you,” it scoffed. “What answers are you trying to get out of me?”

You slumped back in defeat. “First of all, I can talk to Mingi about whatever I want. You don’t get to have a say in it. And secondly… I haven’t even asked you anything yet.”

Erebos mirrored your position. “Then why does Mingi get to have a say in what we do?”

“He doesn’t-”

“But you told him you will take a step back because he’s interfering-”

“That’s not why-” you paused as realisation dawned on you. “Are you pissed because I said I’d take a step back from what we did?”

When Erebos didn’t answer, you leaned forward. “I am taking a step back from you because when you kissed me that night, it wasn’t you. What happened to you that night, Erebos? You scared me for a moment and then you looked hurt. What am I supposed to make of it?”

Erebos didn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the ends of its shirt.

“What do you want with me, Erebos?” You finally asked the question that had been gnawing on your mind before Mingi ever instructed you. However, Erebos remained quiet. You let the demon have a few moments until you couldn’t take it anymore and then you got up.

“Don’t come to me until your head is clear.”

“Wait-”

You stopped walking away when you heard the urgency in the demon’s voice. You turned to find Erebos standing as if it was about to come after you if you didn’t stop. The demon came near you, running a hand through its messy hair and you turned to hear it.

“I don’t know what happened to me,” Erebos finally admitted, its voice low and your heart tugged. “All I know is that I’ve never wanted anything more in that moment and I was consumed by something foreign even for me. If you hadn’t stopped me, you would have regretted it. I thought I hurt you, and I didn’t like it, even when I usually enjoy hurting humans. What do I make of it, little bird? Why don’t you tell me?”

You knew you were treading on such dangerous territories but the fact that Erebos was making all these confessions, you simply couldn’t find it in your heart to leave it be. You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to work out a response but you found yourself speechless instead.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, little bird,” the demon whispered and you shook your head.

“What will we do, Erebos?”

“Do we have to worry?” Erebos stepped towards you, making you take a step back out of habit. It smirked and you rolled your eyes, knowing it was in teasing mode now. It stepped towards you, making you step back until your back hit the wall and you were trapped. You glared at the demon.

“Now this is what I like to see,” Erebos grinned. You pushed its chest but it grabbed your wrists, making you gape at it but when it caressed them softly, your eyes changed-

“This look in your eyes,” the demon’s raspy voice practically sounded inside you. “I don’t want you to look at anyone else with that look in your eyes.”

“I didn’t-”

“Not even Mingi,” it almost snarled and instead of fear, warmth coursed through your body. “No one else, you understand?”

“I don’t look at Mingi that way-”

“Don’t make me shut you up,” it cocked its head dangerously. “Now… what were you saying about taking a step back from us? When I can practically taste your needs?”

“Erebos,” you sighed in defeat, resting your head on its chest. “Please. Let me think this through.”

“Why do you need to think this through?” Erebos practically whined. “Look at me, little bird.”

With immense effort, you raised your head. If you expected to see the same darkness that took over the demon that night, it wasn’t there. It was just… Erebos being itself. However, you were a bit startled by the sudden proximity as if it finally sank in that you were in its arms yet again. Erebos’s eyes were glazed and it pressed its lips to your temple, lingering before drawing back.

“You can think all you want,” the demon whispered in your ear, tugging at your earlobe with its teeth, making a whimper leave your mouth. “But I know you’ll come back to me, little bird.”

You instinctively craned your neck and you could feel Erebos smirk as it trailed its lips along your neck, resting at your collarbone, its warm breath caressing your skin. You longed to touch the demon but its grip on your wrists was strong. When its full lips pressed on the edge of your collarbone, your knees nearly gave in and you struggled to stand.

As if having proved a point, Erebos stepped back. “I’m not human so I can wait for you as long as you want,” it said, gaze travelling everywhere on your face. “So you can take your time.”

You narrowed your eyes, snatching your wrists away and rubbing them. “You could have simply said that.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Erebos smirked and you tried to calm your thumping heart. “Talking about fun… want to go mage-hunting with me? I have some rogue mages I plan to catch tonight.”

“I’m sure I’ll only slow you down,” you retorted but the demon shook its head, saying you wouldn’t.

It couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You may have the ability to see in the dark but in case you forgot, I’m a mere human,” you spat, scoffing when Erebos stifled its laugh, tripping yet again on another object in the narrow alley you were navigating through.

“Hold my hand then,” Erebos sounded so smug that you refused to comply. You knew the demon was trying to initiate physical contact through any means possible- all night, it had been a battle of finger brushes, stolen pecks to the cheek or forehead which may have made your heart skip a beat at first but was now annoying you to death-

Another kiss on your temple and a deep laughter boomed and you nearly screamed in frustration. “Erebos, I swear to the heavens above I will obliterate you-”

“Shh,” you felt a finger on your lips in the utter darkness. “Someone’s here- don’t move.”

You obeyed, eyes wide as you glanced around, barely seeing anything in the cloudy night. What were you thinking when you decided this was a good idea?

“I sense one of them,” the demon whispered in your ear, guiding you to stand next to the wall and stay there. “I’ll be back. You have your knife, yes?”

“Oh, I do, completely forgot,” you muttered, checking in your cloak. “Should have stabbed you when I had the chance.”

“I’m going to remove the shadows from around you,” Erebos said and slowly, your vision became better. With a gentle pat to your cheek, the demon went after the mage, leaving you smiling to yourself.

The smile fell when you heard a scream that did not belong to Erebos. You waited for the sounds to die, almost moving from your spot but you knew better than to disobey the demon. After a few minutes, it was back looking proud of itself and you shook your head.

“Are we done?” You asked and Erebos nodded. “Did you… kill the mage?”

“Only put shadow cuffs on him,” Erebos answered. “They nullify magic.”

Your mouth shaped into an O and you asked if you were going home now. Erebos told you it had one last spot to visit and you followed, this time hand intertwined with its own.

You never expected the spot to be a graveyard. You squeezed the demon’s hand but it didn’t respond, simply navigating through the graves until it stopped in front of an unnamed one with a cherry blossom tree sprouting from it.

You watched Erebos look up as if it was praying- who did demons pray to? Did they share the same gods as humans? It didn’t leave your hand once, though, and you felt as if you were invading a private moment.

When Erebos was done, it passed you a smile and led you further to a bench where you sat. “You must have questions.”

“I do, but you don’t have to answer them,” you told the demon who looked at you gratefully, though it decided to tell you.

“The first time Mingi fell in love after we started sharing a body, I was disgusted by those foreign emotions. It was like the human lost all control of who he was, of his heart and mind. And at that time, we did not know how to live with each other and often slipped into each other’s consciousness unknowingly. And with that… my magic was unstable as well. One wrong move on my part and I took away something from Mingi that I’m still sorry for.”

Your heart sank as you glanced towards the grave and then back at Erebos. “You blame yourself.”

Erebos nodded at your statement. “It’s the only thing I have felt sorry for in my life, because I, too, experienced the love when it was not meant for me. When I didn’t welcome it.”

It explained so much of Mingi’s hesitant and cautious behaviour, of his worries and fears. It also explained some of Erebos’s behaviour. You put a hand on top of the demon’s hand, caressing it.

“Actions like these wouldn’t have meant anything for me, but after centuries, my heart feels warm again- I don’t know if it’s Mingi’s heart or mine, and it’s making me confused. That night… I almost made the same mistake again and I was so scared. I’m not scared to face the consequences, I’m scared to live with them.”

“But you didn’t,” you whispered. “You didn’t lose control.”

“And what if I do?” Erebos looked at you, eyes dark. “Perhaps, living inside a human has changed me. All I wanted was to destroy yet here I am. I want you all to myself, so selfishly. I want to feel these funny and strange feelings more. I want you, but what if I make the same mistake, this time with someone I-”

With someone I love- the statement hung in the air- perhaps because the demon was not sure if it was love though it had never desired for anything more, perhaps because it was afraid to say it in case things went south, perhaps because it couldn’t bear to see the disgust in your eyes at its confession-

But then you rested your head on Erebos’s shoulder and all its worries dissipated. “I don’t know what it’s like to love,” you said. “I don’t know what this is either, but… I like it. And I’m not afraid of you, Erebos. I feel safe with you- I don’t know why. I never once felt unsafe with you, even when you nearly lost control.”

You felt Erebos relax considerably at your confession. You continued. “I’m sorry for what happened. It must have been hard for you too.”

There it was- your consideration. The one thing that drew Erebos to you from the first moment you met. No one had ever talked to the demon like that in its entire life- how could it not love it?

So the demon rested its face against your head, an impending feeling of doom swirling in its gut, because there was one thing both Mingi and Erebos hid from you-

That you could not love the both of them at the same time. Even if you were halfway there already and neither of them was able to stop you, you could not. It would be the end of one or the other, but…

Did it matter if they got a taste of your love?

—-----------------------

“Wait- don’t light the fire just yet- Wooyoung!”

You shut your eyes more in defeat than to brace yourself from the loud blast that sounded because Wooyoung lit the match at the wrong time during the middle of creating a potion. You could smell smoke and hear Wooyoung’s low giggles and you wondered why you ever agreed to experiment with the healer.

Your father had worked with mages for a long time, and when he was sick and had contacted Wooyoung, they had come up with recipes for new potions while Wooyoung healed him. Your father gave you his notes before his death and you still remembered the recipes, deciding to work with Wooyoung, trying the one for-

“Agility, you said?” Wooyoung asked, coughing a bit and you finally opened your eyes to see him draw a cross on his notes.

“Yes, and if you hadn’t been hell-bent on tweaking it, we wouldn’t be covered in soot,” you groaned. “I said light the fire after the lavender is soaked in the liquid, not when it’s still floating.”

“Are you sure it works?” Wooyoung passed you a cryptic look. “Maybe I do need to tweak it…”

“It’s worked,” you folded your arms defensively. “I’ve used them,” you said, recalling when you once saw your father and Wooyoung working in his lab. “You must remember from his notes, right?”

“Always sneaking around, were you?” Wooyoung cooed. “I distinctly remember your father telling you to go play in your room or something- you were always hiding in the corners.”

“I don’t sneak around now-”

“I saw you shadowing Mingi earlier,” he winked at you and you pouted. “Why do you keep following him around?”

You looked away from Wooyoung’s searching gaze but found yourself caged when he continued to stare at you, waiting for an answer. You sighed deeply.

“Because he’s either hiding something from me or he hates me and I need to know what it is.”

You did not miss Wooyoung’s subtle eye roll but only you were aware of how Mingi was trying to avoid your eyes, would look at you when you thought you didn’t know he was, and appeared to be about to say something but would then stop. It was a game of push and pull now, and you were losing.

“That’s not it,” Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s probably something else.”

“I’m just confused, Wooyoung. Is it because Erebos told me about Mingi’s first love? Is that a topic the demon should have avoided? Or is it because…”

Because you continued to tread on dangerous lines with Erebos. And because Mingi could probably see some of it himself- after all, how much could Erebos push him back into their subconscious? Was it making Mingi confused because it always used to be the other way round?

“Erebos, huh?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “If your father saw you today…”

You glared at him. “He’d be proud of me for running away and making it alive. And proud that I’m tolerating you lot.”

“Isn’t it us tolerating the human?” Wooyoung wondered out loud and you threw the nearest object- a flask- at him, which he caught, grinning. “I can tell you he’s not avoiding you on purpose. Something must be bothering him. He couldn’t hate you even if he tried.”

You looked at the healer. “Why?”

“Why don’t you ask him that?” Wooyoung got up and began to clean the mess, tossing you a washcloth so you could help. “He’s not always like this. He looks like something is eating him up.”

Wooyoung wasn’t wrong. Over the course of the past few days, while you and Erebos only grew friendlier- the demon even more teasing and reckless than ever, you and Mingi had also settled into something calm and… cosy. Where Erebos was a literal manifestation of shadows and being with him felt dark and thrilling, Mingi radiated warmth like none other- his voice grounded you and being with him washed a sense of tranquillity over you. You did not know what you craved more, especially because Erebos had been busier recently and you spent more time with Mingi.

Mingi didn’t talk about whatever you and Erebos discussed that night in the graveyard, but his smile had become kinder as if he himself was grateful that you didn’t run away from him. You wondered how many people ran away from him simply because of the demon inside him- he, too, must have been hurt because of the looks of fear or disgust he received. You recalled a couple of days ago when you were watching him trim the plants surrounding the house and he had looked so shy that it made your heart ache unexpectedly-

“Don’t look at me like that, y/n.”

“Like what?”

“Like how you look at Erebos. As if he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“But-”

“I just can’t take it”, he smiled helplessly. “It makes me want something that isn’t mine.”

Despite this, Mingi didn’t push you away. He continued to find you during the day and engage you in some activity, and even if you two didn’t talk you’d find solace being in each other’s company. However, his casual finger brushes and pats hadn’t escaped your notice. You knew he was very physically affectionate even with Seonghwa and Wooyoung and perhaps this was the same, but he didn’t look at you the way he looked at the others. You knew that well and good.

After cleaning the soot, you went outside for a breather, spotting Mingi at the bank of the river, this time with his feet dipped in the water. He seemed to be enjoying the warm rays of sun, head tipped backwards. Despite your quiet steps, he seemed to have heard the ruffle of grass and motioned for you to join him. You rolled your trousers up a little before sinking your feet into the cool water, grinning to yourself as you settled down.

“Such a nice day today, isn’t it?” You looked up at the fluffy clouds spreading across the sky. “The sun is about to set. I should have joined you earlier.”

“We still have some time,�� he smiled. “I heard a little blast inside. Wooyoung again?”

“Me, but it was Wooyoung who messed us up,” you laughed. “Did you manage to find the missing mage?”

“Not yet. I’ve been searching since sunrise but there’s no sign. Erebos might be able to sense the mage better so I’ll leave it to the demon. I’m done for the day.”

“Well, at least the demon is useful for one thing,” you joked and he laughed- he quite enjoyed when you made fun of Erebos and you were glad talking about the demon wasn’t something that made you two awkward anymore.

“But you should know,” Mingi started, “We don’t work for the Mage Society willingly. It’s something we have to do so they will allow us to live.”

You frowned- that was news to you. “Why?”

“They just don’t like the idea that a human is a mage now,” he looked at you. “You know they’ve always discriminated between pure mages and mages who were once human.”

You were aware that Mingi was once human, however, you were not aware of the circumstances that brought Erebos to possess Mingi. “Can I ask how…”

Mingi seemed to understand and he nodded. “I was simply at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Erebos needed a human vessel who it could coexist with. Not all humans can live with a demon inside them, you know.”

You made an impressed face. “So there was something special about you?”

“You could say. Perhaps I was stronger- maybe physically, maybe mentally. We did have a rough time coexisting in the beginning but we’re used to each other now.”

“And why did Erebos need a human vessel? Because it was cursed?”

Mingi paused and you realised he was wondering if you should have asked that from him. He took a deep breath before he said, “Cursed and exiled from the demon realm, like Seonghwa.”

You were satisfied with his answer. “Do you ever wonder if there was a reason why you had to be the human that Erebos possessed?”

“I do,” he admitted. “Even though we haven’t found any answer yet. I guess it was fate, then. So I could meet the people and be here at this moment?” He looked at you and smiled. “Something like that?”

Before you could respond, his brows furrowed and he brought his hand to the side of your face, his fingers gripping the crevice between your ear and neck as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone. “Were you playing with fire? You’re smudged with soot-”

Perhaps, he noticed the way your eyes opened a fraction wider or your lips parted as if it was suddenly hard to breathe. Perhaps, he could hear the loud thumping of your heart. Or maybe he noticed the way your eyes scanned his face- you could see the browns in his eyes, the shadow his lashes casted over them, the mole under his eye. Maybe he could tell you loved the way his hair fell over his forehead, the dark and blue strands resembling the night sky.

You blinked and waited for him to draw away but he didn’t and it only made you more anxious for what was next. Swallowing once, you barely managed to whisper his name. He only caressed your cheekbone in answer, still seeming to be in a trance as he locked eyes with you. When he started leaning forward, you wondered if your eyes betrayed you in that moment- that he saw that you wanted this. Wanted him-

He paused when your noses almost brushed. “I-I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you breathed, locking eyes. “It’s… okay.”

What was okay, he wondered? The fact that he had come back to his senses before he did anything? Or was it an approval to go ahead and do whatever he wanted to do at that moment?

Mingi looked down and smiled a bit- whatever this was… it had been such a long time since he felt like this- like his nerves were on fire. When he found you smiling shyly as well, he couldn’t take it- he planted a kiss on your cheek, patting it once before saying he was heading inside, leaving you wondering how during that moment, not once did you think about the demon inside him.

Not once.

—----------------------

Later that night, when you were fixing up a loose thread on your dress in your room, you heard two sharp knocks- a sound you were very familiar with now. Somehow, Erebos and you had come up with this- if your door was slightly open, he could knock and come in, otherwise he would take it as a sign to bug off. It also applied to you and being on the end of a shut door was not a pleasant feeling, but you two were also crossing these boundaries now- opening a shut door just a fraction to check if the other was okay.

“What you doing?” Erebos sang as it entered, making itself home on your bed. You hummed in response- the demon could clearly see what you were doing. Breaking the thread with your teeth, you secured the stitch and put it aside, folding your arms as you shook your head at how comfortable the demon looked.

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want you in my bed.”

Erebos scoffed. “The seat is not empty.”

You glanced towards the seat- you did not remember putting a bunch of clothes on it. You narrowed your eyes at the demon but decided to let it go. “Did you find the mage?”

“Just returned,” the demon answered, “Was my little bird waiting for me?”

“As if,” you tsk-ed, looking away- of course you were. You just wouldn’t ever admit it. After all, you waited all day for this part of the night.

And all night to see Mingi-

“I can taste the lies in the air, human,” the demon licked its lips. “Tell me… why did you ask Mingi about why I possessed him today?”

So it had been listening. You gulped, wondering if the demon had also witnessed the look in your eyes when Mingi was so close-

“I didn’t mean to ask,” you glared at it- Erebos knew you never probed. You never even asked it, save for that one time you did and got the silent treatment.

“I know,” the demon’s gaze softened for a mere second before it darkened. “And why did you look at Mingi like that? I thought I made it clear that you cannot look at anyone else that way?”

You rolled your eyes even though your heart sank. You did feel guilty, but somehow… it felt alright. “I can look at whoever I want whatever way I want.”

“Oh? Can you now?” Erebos chuckled deeply and you passed it an annoyed look, getting up to put your clothes back in the cupboard.

However, you did not expect to find it standing- no, towering over you when you turned around- you hadn’t even heard the demon move. You shut your eyes as you tried to calm your heart, but-

But the demon’s hands cupped your face so softly that for a second, you wondered if it was Mingi instead. Only upon opening your eyes and spotting the stars in its irises confirmed that it was indeed the demon.

Erebos looked conflicted as it scanned your eyes. Your gaze softened too- it had been a while since the demon looked at you like you were not a meal- an inside joke now. It reminded you of your first and only kiss, in the hills when the demon had nearly lost control. You leaned into the demon’s touch when it caressed your face and saw the telltale signs of a smile on its lips.

“Can you not look at Mingi with these eyes, little bird?” Erebos almost sounded hurt. “I don’t like it.”

“Erebos, I-”

“No,” the demon shook its head. “I don’t want to know- just let me…”

If the demon was going to ask for permission, it must have decided against it because it crashed its lips on yours, earning a surprised groan from you but you immediately melted into the kiss, clutching at the demon’s shirt. Erebos leaned down to kiss you better and it was just like the first time again, making you breathless and your heart ached as it yearned to be closer to the demon in every way possible.

You broke apart, already out of breath but Erebos’s lips were back on your skin, peppering kisses all the way down your jaw to your neck and then back up, looking at you once- perhaps to make sure if you were okay- before diving back in to kiss your lips. You responded more eagerly this time, your arms wrapping around its neck and the demon took that sign to pick you up, earning a giggle from you and you absolutely loved the way the demon smiled at you- it was pure. You didn’t doubt the demon’s intentions once and this just strengthened your beliefs.

Erebos placed you on the bed- not so gently this time- and you both laughed a bit, taking a moment to simply look at the other. You crawled on the demon’s lap, its arms going to hold your waist, and ran a hand through the soft strands of its hair- Mingi’s hair- that you so loved. You traced the edges of its face- Mingi’s face- and kissed the mole under its eye-

How could you kiss him and not see Mingi?

Erebos seemed to notice the hesitation in your eyes and you thought the demon looked sad for a moment before it craned its neck to kiss you again, slower this time, deeper, as if it wanted to say a lot but didn’t have the words for it. You kissed the demon back just like that, making out endlessly with its hands everywhere on your body until you heard it suppress a little groan. You drew back for a second but then it pushed you back on the bed, getting on top of you and-

Pressing its thigh between your legs as it kissed you almost hungrily- the sudden shift almost made you a little dizzy and you cupped its face, breaking apart-

“Erebos- tell me your name, please-”

The demon kissed you again, slowing down just a notch and you moaned into the kiss, loving as its hands found your bare skin, loving the way it rocked its body against yours, loving the way its plump lips tasted on yours, loving the gasp that left its mouth-

Not Erebos, your mind screamed and you broke apart for breath, noticing even in the faint light of the lamp that the eyes no longer had stars in it.

Mingi had taken over.

Mingi seemed to understand that you knew, yet, when he drew in and brushed his nose against you, you almost moaned. You became hyper aware of his hand on your bare waist where your shirt had lifted, of his other hand squeezing your neck gently as if all his self-control lay there, of his chest rocking against yours as he took deep breaths. This time, you were the one who pulled him in and swallowed all his hesitation as you kissed him, with a dreadful realisation that perhaps, you had failed to keep the boundaries, the distinctions clear. Mingi didn’t seem to mind though- he kissed you back just as enthusiastically, welcoming your tongue in his mouth.

Just as Mingi groaned in pleasure into the kiss, it changed into one of pain and he drew back abruptly. You noticed how his eyes blackened altogether as he clutched his head. You got up into a sitting position and leaned towards him to help but he pushed you away-

“Y/n, run.”

“No, Mingi- please-”

“No,” Mingi clenched his jaw and buried his head in the bed. You realised it was Erebos and the demon must be so, so angry- not only with Mingi, but you. You caressed his head despite his constant warnings and held him.

“Erebos,” you almost cried. “Please. Not like this.”

Mingi calmed down almost completely and you wondered if he had lost consciousness before he raised his head and you saw the stars in his angry eyes as it looked at you questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, wiping your eyes. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

Erebos was silent and you wondered if the demon hadn’t heard you until you noticed the shadows seeping out of it and spreading in the room. You squeezed the demon’s hand, locking eyes with it. “Look at me, Erebos.”

“Why?”

A strangled cry left you when you heard how broken, how devastated the demon sounded. Erebos buried its head in your lap and shadows continued to seep out of its body and you dared to touch the edge of one, drawing away with a cry- it seemed to burn.

“Erebos?” You caressed its head. “Erebos, please-”

“Go away,” the demon simply said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You pursed your lips, looking towards the door when you heard the sound of footsteps- it was Seonghwa and he looked utterly surprised. He rushed towards you and said, “You need to get away from Erebos- the shadows are not safe right now.”

“I can’t leave Erebos like this,” you cried.

“Take her before I hurt her,” Erebos said, almost falling limp and you snatched your arm away when Seonghwa tried to grab it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave them like this- both Mingi and Erebos,” you told him and he looked conflicted. You shut your eyes and hugged their body, not minding the way your skin burned wherever it came in contact with the shadows. You hummed a melody that your father used to sing at your bed and Seonghwa gasped, drawing away from you-

The shadows were not hurting you- not anymore.

He watched both your and Mingi’s body melt into each other as you lost consciousness, the shadows no longer in the air. He made sure the two of you were breathing and were alright before he left the room and found his way to the kitchen, slumping on a chair-

Maybe it was time- never had Erebos been able to control its magic from hurting someone until this moment. It was as if even though the demon had lost consciousness, it still knew to protect you.

Seonghwa smiled at the two bodies that clung to each other, as if providing comfort. His smile was sad though- it looked like the curse would soon break.

It was going to be a mess.

—---------------------

You woke up with every muscle in your body aching as if you had overused it. Groaning, you turned in the bed, biting your lips to swallow the cry of pain that would have left you. You blinked a few times, trying to recall just what you had done last night to be this tired-

Mingi.

You got up with immense effort- he was not here anymore and it was dark outside- just how long had you been sleeping? You noticed the glass of water and a potion next to you, a note attached in Wooyoung’s handwriting that said ‘you better drink this before you move’. Knowing Wooyoung’s potion would probably do you some good, you drank the bitter pink liquid before exiting the room-

It was so, so dark outside. Unnaturally dark and you could barely see anything. With a dreadful realisation, you started towards Mingi’s room, letting your hand against the wall guide you towards the end of the hall. You found a faint light from the room and when you entered, you first saw Seonghwa leaning towards something, a white flame lighting the lone candle in the corner-

Seonghwa was caressing something- someone. Mingi.

Seonghwa’s head turned when a strangled cry left your mouth and he urged you to wait outside. You stood like a little kid behind the door until he urged you to follow him to Wooyoung’s room, who was going through some notes.

“I can’t find anything,” Wooyoung sighed in defeat, slumping on the couch. “Don’t you remember if something like this has happened in the past?”

“Each curse is unique,” Seonghwa simply said as if that explained everything.

“What’s happening?” You tried not to sound frantic but failed. “Why are they like this?”

“Do you remember what happened before you passed out?” Seonghwa asked.

“I… I was trying to calm them down- Mingi and Erebos.” you recalled. “I was humming a song my father taught me and then… why did I pass out? Was it because of their magic?”

“You could have died, y/n,” Seonghwa shook his head. “Somehow, they protected you with their magic, even when they lost control. Do you know that’s the first time they’ve ever been able to do that?”

Your heart sank- you recalled all the stories Mingi and Erebos had told you about not being able to protect the people they loved when they lost control and the shadows burned them- they burned you a bit too but when you hummed…

“They must have felt you even when they were far gone,” Wooyoung smiled sadly. “I don’t know if I should be pleased about it though…”

“Well, we have got to do something about Mingi and Erebos,” Seonghwa said. “I wouldn’t suggest you going to them right now- it might not work in your favour.”

You didn’t quite understand what they were getting at. “But it happened because of me. I… I knew Erebos wouldn’t like it if I became closer to Mingi, but…”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Wooyoung muttered and Seonghwa looked at him in warning but he shook his head. “She should know.”

“What now?” Your voice quivered.

“You should know that it’s not your fault,” Wooyoung said gently. “The demon was cursed. Did they ever tell you why?”

You shook your head in denial and Wooyoung motioned at Seonghwa to continue. “Ages ago, Erebos was a high status demon in their realm. The Lord of Shadows. Erebos was powerful enough to control other demons, and though it had better things to do than involve itself in petty mischief, it was also powerful enough to undo their damage- mainly human possession which was very rampant at that time. One day… Erebos came across some demon who was violating the demon code- we are not allowed to leave evidence of demon possession, but that demon wanted to show the world that it could do whatever it pleased.

“Erebos wasn’t going to involve itself but one thing led to another and since Erebos held the authority, it killed that demon. Turns out the demon was some other high lord’s underling who got pissed and reported it to the court where Erebos was going to receive its judgement.”

“But… it wasn’t Erebos’s fault,” you said and Seonghwa nodded.

“The demons aren’t forgiving. If they forgive, wouldn’t that make them human?” He smiled. “Erebos could have been ‘grounded’, in layman terms, or stripped of his title but demons are a sadistic bunch. They twisted his intentions thinking that the demon ‘pitied’ the human. They cursed him to live inside a human, to feel like a human does, until-”

“Until?” You waited but Seonghwa glanced at Wooyoung now. Your heart sank as you recalled something familiar-

The scroll Mingi had hid under the plank in the hallway.

You got up and went outside, walking almost mechanically towards the end of the hallway and took out the scroll and watched Wooyoung shake his head, confirming your suspicions. You opened it and read it again:

“Once the shadow, once the light

As one, the two must thrive

A curse both must fight

To one’s end, they dive

For love, with all their might

Hearts awakened, live alive”

“What does it mean?” You went back inside the room and spread the scroll on the table. “They’re clearly talking about Erebos, but…”

“‘A curse both must fight, to one’s end they dive, for love’,” Seonghwa quoted. “They will continue to fight the curse to one’s end because ultimately, only one of them can live inside that body. No matter how much they try to coexist, it’s not possible- this episode they’re having is not their first one but it might be their final one, because…”

“‘For love’,” Wooyoung’s smile was sad. “Once the two fall in love with the same person… the curse will break. It’s twisted because a demon is not supposed to feel those emotions but Erebos can feel them now, because of Mingi. Mingi has fallen in love a few times in the past centuries but Erebos never gave in, until…”

It couldn’t be.

“This does not make any sense, it’s stupid,” you almost spat. “Is the curse even real or was it just to mock Erebos? And Erebos is a demon, it cannot love-”

You recalled that night in the graveyard well and good. You recalled what Erebos said about wanting you, wanting to be with you. Could you not call it love when it did so much for you, waited to be with you, touched you like you could break, kissed you like time was running short?

And Mingi… He told you not to look at him the way you looked at Erebos, like the demon was everything you ever wanted.

“It… cannot be,” you said, not realising your face was wet and your vision was blurry. “What will happen?”

“We do not know,” Wooyoung patted your back. “Maybe try talking to them. Seonghwa, let’s allow her to. We need to know if this is just another episode or if the curse is breaking- if this might be the end.”

“Why did no one tell me about the curse?” You looked at the two.

“Not our place to tell you, and they have forbidden us to,” Seonghwa shook his head. “We only let you know now because the situation called for it.”

“If I had known-”

“If you had known, it would have still happened anyway,” Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder. “Love is not a feeling you can control.”

You stared into the fire for the longest moment, wishing you could undo everything from the moment you met Mingi and Erebos. You wished you had not decided to stay, nor found a family in this odd group. You wished you hadn’t fallen for a demon and then the human who coexisted in one body. But no matter how much you cursed yourself over it, it was no use.

Love was not a feeling you could control.

You had long since stopped crying, now in a state of numbness. Seonghwa and Wooyoung were patiently waiting for you to make a decision.

“I’m going to try talking to them,” you swallowed the choking feeling in your throat. “I can’t give up- not like this.”

“You’re strong,” Wooyoung smiled proudly. “And I think only you could have done this- make a demon fall for you. How crazy is that?”

You laughed at that, hiding your face as it settled in and a sob left your body. Wooyoung was quick to get up and rub your back.

“It’s tragic, I know, but it has been very painful for them to coexist in one body,” he told you. “We helped in any way we could but it was never enough. I think they found comfort in you- both Mingi and Erebos. It’s going to be okay, don’t lose faith.”

“I don’t want to lose them,” you cried. “I don’t want to lose either of them. It’s very selfish of me, but-”

“We’ve grown quite attached to them too,” Seonghwa admitted. “But we can’t avoid it. It’s cruel, but it is the way it is.”

You nodded, preparing yourself for what was next, hoping for a miracle that you knew might not come.

—------------------------

It was dark and it was cold. There was no way out. The darkness hugged Mingi and the cold settled in his bones. There was not a sound- not even of his own breath. The shadows were endless.

Mingi wondered how he had gotten here but there was no answer. It was just the way it was, how it happened. There was no one to blame, no one to point fingers at. He had learned not to question how cruel the hands of fate could be. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it really had to be this way.

Mingi called Erebos’s name, hoping to find solace in the darkness of their subconsciousness but Erebos seemed to have given in to the void as well. So Mingi waited, not alone but so lonely. He waited for Erebos to wake up, for a miracle to happen-

“Mingi? Can you hear me?”

It was your voice, so distant that he wondered if he was imagining it.

“Erebos? Mingi? Please, talk to me.”

No- it was real. Their names were being called. Mingi looked around, blindly thrashing around in hopes of finding Erebos, wondering if the demon could hear it too.

As Mingi started gaining a bit of consciousness, he could make out another figure in the void- Erebos’s figure- he did not know if the demon had a body of its own but whenever the two interacted in their subconscious, it was like they were looking in a mirror. The only difference had always been in their eyes.

“Erebos,” Mingi nudged the demon’s body, sitting with its head buried between its knees, arms wrapped around itself as if that could protect the demon from what was ahead. “Wake up.”

The demon didn’t budge and Mingi heard your voice call for them again. He was pretty sure Erebos was ignoring it on purpose now. “Hey, I know you can hear me and her. Look at me.”

The demon finally gave an indication of not having lost it completely by tapping its fingers- a sign Mingi would have missed had he not been paying attention. Mingi sighed deeply. “How long are you going to be like this?”

“I’m just wondering…” Erebos finally said, not looking up. “If this is the end.”

Mingi was wondering too- it had never been so dark here. He could feel their magic getting out of control, nothing like they had ever experienced before. No matter how much he tried to get back into his consciousness, it wasn’t working.

“The curse, huh?” Mingi shook his head. “So you’re in love with y/n? I thought you were incapable of love.”

“I thought I was too,” Erebos finally looked up. “Until I found myself protecting her with all my might when you kissed her and we lost control.”

Mingi looked away- it was his fault too. The first time the demon fell in love and he had to be there and mess things up-

“I know what you’re thinking,” Erebos smiled. “I’m not sure I could have fallen in love if it weren’t for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am a demon, Mingi,” Erebos scoffed. “I may only be feeling these human emotions because I live within a human body now.”

“That is not how this works, and you know it,” Mingi tsk-ed.

“You’re the one who insisted that demons do not have a heart,” Erebos tsk-ed back.

“I was wrong. Seonghwa is also a demon- he would not have been helping us for centuries if he did not have a heart. He never demanded anything in return. And you…” Mingi shook his head. “I know you blame yourself over what happened when I first fell in love. It was not your fault, and if you were a demon, you wouldn’t have been wallowing in guilt. You would have enjoyed my misery.”

“Who says I didn’t?”

“Don’t pretend to be heartless now when you visit the grave every year and pray to god knows who,” Mingi said and Erebos pursed its lips- it had always tried to force Mingi the furthest back in their consciousness whenever it did that, but it looked like the demon may have slipped. “My point is, you don’t love y/n because of me. You love her because she looked at you- from the beginning. She didn’t care that you were a demon. And you love her because you have a heart of your own, no matter how… dark or ugly it may be.”

Erebos laughed at that and Mingi shared a grin as well, silence settling once again. “Okay, you’re right. We wouldn’t be here right now if I wasn’t in love with her. And you’re in love with her too.”

Mingi smiled sadly. “How could I not be in love with her when she is the way she is?”

“Little bird,” Erebos smiled fondly and Mingi was taken aback by the display of those emotions in the demon’s eyes. Its smile fell when your voice rang in the void again, calling for them both, begging for them to come back. “I know I wished I was never cursed to be in a human body, but I can’t say that I regret it now that I know what it is like to be loved.”

Mingi felt his heart sink. “What are you getting at?”

“I shouldn’t have been in this body in the first place,” Erebos sounded determined. “I do not deserve to choose to live on and kill you in the process.”

Mingi was taken aback by the sudden declaration. “I know only one of us can make it out alive but… I’m only human. I will grow old and die anyway. If you choose to live… I don’t think I would mind, I…” Mingi laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m willingly giving you the choice to live in my body and kill me in the process, but Erebos… that human loves you. You deserve to be loved too.”

Erebos shook its head. “I do not deserve to be loved, but I am thankful for the love I have received. I cannot go back and choose to live. The human loves you too, Mingi. I think she deserves a human, not a demon by her side for the rest of her life.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Erebos got up. “She’s human, Mingi. I would ruin her. And even if I love her with all my heart, I wouldn’t be able to live when she dies- because I will outlive her. I would rather kill myself than see her dead. You humans… you’re used to the notion of death. You understand that you grow old and die. I do not.”

Erebos raised its hands and the shadows gathered in its palms. Mingi took a step back, almost panicking. “What are you doing?”

“Putting an end to this for once and for all,” Erebos announced.

“Wait- wait,” Mingi pounced on him, surprising the demon as they fell. “You don’t get to go just like this. You can’t do this to her- you have to tell her.”

“I can’t face her again-”

“No, you listen to me,” Mingi groaned in frustration. “You can’t do this without saying goodbye.”

“If you think my mind will change once I see her, you’re wrong.”

“I know it won’t,” Mingi shook his head. “But she deserves a goodbye too.”

Erebos thought about it and Mingi could see the doubt in the demon’s eyes. Before Erebos could make a decision, Mingi grabbed Erebos’s hands, the shadows looping around his arm now.

“What do you think you are doing?” Erebos tried snatching its hands away but Mingi smiled, forcing the shadows to shift to himself and-

Forcing Erebos into consciousness.

You felt the shift in the air instantly and watched Erebos lift its head and look at you, almost in disbelief and confusion. A short sob left you as you knelt down next to him, bringing your hands to the demon’s face but hesitating, letting them hover until Erebos relaxed.

“You’re… back,” you caressed its face. “Are you okay?”

Erebos didn’t say anything, simply leaned forward to wrap its arms around you as if it, too, had been afraid. You smiled- this was the first time Erebos actually hugged you. You looped your own arms around its neck and the demon shifted under you, burying its face in the crook of your neck and staying like that for the longest time, not saying a word, simply relishing the feeling-

“Erebos,” you finally whispered. “What happened?”

Erebos didn’t respond, instead nudged your neck with its nose and you would have thought the demon was just having a moment until you felt something wet on your neck and you drew back to see-

The demon was crying.

“What’s the matter?” Your heart broke at the way Erebos was looking at you. Its hands were shaking as they cupped your face and caressed your skin, scanning you as if it was memorising the way you looked. “Erebos, please, tell me what’s going on.”

The demon only smiled, tears streaking down its face. You felt your heart sink in the worst possible way, looking around to see the shadows still wild around you. “The curse… it hasn’t broken yet, has it? Is Mingi okay?”

“He’s okay,” Erebos assured you but you couldn’t relax.

“Is the curse going to break?”

The demon’s silence was enough. You took a deep breath. “Tell me how to undo everything. I will leave. I don’t want you two to live like this-”

“It’s already done,” Erebos wiped the tears from your eyes. “It’s going to end soon, little bird.”

“What do you mean?” You cried out. “What’s going to happen?”

“It’s been an honour to have been loved by you.”

“No, no, please,” you gripped the demon’s hands. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to leave but Mingi forced me back here so I could… say goodbye,” Erebos laughed a little. “I think it was wise of him to do so.”

“Leave where?” You whispered and you heard a shuffle of sound behind you, Wooyoung and Seonghwa now present in the room. Erebos nodded at them, mouthing a ‘thank you’. Seonghwa took a deep breath, turning around and facing the white flame while Wooyoung put one hand over his heart and one over Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“I was never meant to be here,” Erebos kissed your forehead, lingering. “This is how it is supposed to end. You deserve to be loved by a human, not a demon.”

“That makes no sense,” you let out a short laugh. “I… Please, don’t do this. Tell me how to make it better- there must be a loophole. It doesn’t have to end with one of you-”

You couldn’t say it, hiding your face in Erebos’s lap as you cried your heart out, the demon caressing your body. The sobs racked through your body and you felt like you were in physical pain- you simply couldn’t seem to catch your breath. There was so much you wanted to say to Erebos, so much you wished to tell the demon but you couldn’t form the words.

“I don’t want to leave seeing you cry,” Erebos’s voice was filled with sadness. “I want to see you smiling before I leave. Please, little bird? I don’t have much time.”

You willed everything in you to tone down your sobs and got up, the demon shaking its head in amusement at your state. “What a mess. Still so pretty.”

Erebos tucked your hair back. “It’s been… a long life in this human body. I’ve never felt alive, not once, until I met you. There’s so much I want to thank you for. I’m not even sure if it’s because I am in a human body that I feel all this. Maybe if I was the Lord of Shadows, I still would have found you and still would have loved you. I feel like I was meant to be here.”

“Stop being so sappy,” you pouted and the demon chuckled, wiping the fresh stream of tears from your eyes. You shut your eyes, memorising the way the demon’s skin felt- cold. Too cold to be human. When the demon hugged you again, you memorised the pattern of its breathing- uneven. It had always been irregular. And when the demon kissed your cheek, you memorised the way it felt- like a feather. When the demon joined its forehead with yours, you noted in your heart the sound of its breath against yours. And when the demon kissed you on your lips, you tucked that feeling into the deepest corner of your heart- the feeling of being enveloped in the safest of shadows.

You stayed like that for a few moments before its body shook and you finally opened your eyes. You could see the light in Erebos’s eyes fade away and it smiled, struggling to keep upright. You sucked in your tears, remembering that Erebos wished for you to smile. You patted your lap and the demon lied down, looking up at you.

“Will you tell me your name now?” You asked.

The demon smiled. “It’s nothing much.”

“Just tell me your name,” you glared at it and the demon laughed. You memorised the sound of it as well.

“Tirich,” it said. “My name is Tirich. It means darkness- or shadow.”

“Tirich,” you called and the demon shut its eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Such a beautiful name. Tirich,” you repeated again, kissing its forehead.

“Y/n,” it called and you shut your eyes, willing yourself not to cry at the way it said your name. “My little bird.” You laughed and Tirich took one of your hands in its own, while your other caressed its head. “Can you sing me that song again? Before I go to sleep?”

You nodded. Tirich looked over at the healer and the demon still hanging by. “Come here, you two. Stop hanging like bats in the corner.”

You laughed at the duo, looking as messy as you with tear-stained faces and trembling hands. They came to sit near Tirich and the demon looked fondly at them for once, making Wooyoung shake his head.

“Not how I imagined you’d go, but this is better,” he grinned. Tirich grinned back and looked at Seonghwa, tsk-ing.

“Remind me why they kicked you out of the demon realm again?”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa muttered and everyone laughed at that. “At least I accept that this is the way I am. You’re still wondering if you’re looking at us with heart eyes because of Mingi.”

“It’s definitely Erebos- Tirich,” Wooyoung smiled as he corrected. “I must say I’m disappointed. We’ve spent centuries with you but you go ahead and tell your name to the girl you just met-”

“You wish you were me,” you stuck out your tongue at the healer and he did the same. Tirich coughed a little, drawing everyone’s attention back.

“I’m going now,” the demon said. “Please… sing me the song.”

You kissed the demon’s forehead one last time, whispering in its ear that you loved every moment you got to be with it and will never forget it. You hummed the song, caressing the demon’s face, your voice starting to tremble as you felt the shadows around you recede back and back until nothing was left. You didn’t stop- not when Seonghwa and Wooyoung hugged each other and cried. Not when the demon’s body went limp in your lap. The tears fell and you continued singing until the sobs took over when nothing was left and you felt the body in your lap move again.

Mingi was back.

Mingi let you cry with your face buried in his chest for the longest time until you passed out from exhaustion. He tucked you in his bed and he finally sat down, feeling the most empty even though his heart felt full for once. It was as if a part of him was gone now. He stared at his palm, so very human. He felt weak, and he couldn’t make it to the bed- he passed out as well, though Wooyoung came right on time, knowing it would be tough for Mingi to use a body that was fully human without the strength of a demon that had braced it for centuries.

The healer tucked Mingi beside you, shaking his head at the irony- two humans who lost a demon that they loved in their own twisted ways.

—----------------------

“I thought I said I wanted this in red and black, not blue and black.”

“I distinctly remember you saying how blue was a nice colour-”

“For you!” Wooyoung groaned. “I wanted my scarf in red and black!”

“Well…” you considered for a moment, looking down at the bundle of your knitted scarfs. “My bad?”

Seonghwa, who was watching you two bicker, snorted loudly, making Wooyoung jump up and down in frustration and you promised between breathless laughter that you would make him another scarf. Seonghwa shook his head. “We know you’re obsessed with the colour blue, but I want mine in pink and white. Not blue and white.”

You pursed your lips, muttering, “Noted.” The duo nodded at you before continuing to set the table for dinner. At that moment, Mingi came from outside, having collected fresh oranges from the trees not far from your house. You waved at him and he smiled, placing the basket on the kitchen counter before hopping to you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“That’s mine, right?” Mingi pointed at the blue and black scarf in your lap.

“You like it?”

Mingi nodded and you handed him the scarf, smiling at how his eyes lit up. He went to try it on in front of the mirror near the door and you gathered your wool, getting up. One of the balls of wool rolled down and before you could grab it, it continued to roll down endlessly across the living room and you groaned.

“Seonghwa, can you please make this house stand straighter? Look at that,” you pointed at the ball of wool still unrolling, bumping into whatever was in the way and changing directions. “The elevation is all messed up.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. You made a face before gathering the thread and following it to see where it unrolled off to, sitting under the stairs now. You picked it up and started rolling it, looking up and halting entirely-

On the table where you collected your candles, one of them was burning with a black flame- you wondered if you were imagining it but you took a closer look, in awe at how dark the flame was- you had never seen a flame that was shades of black. You picked the candle up, running your finger over the flame but it didn’t burn. You wondered if this was one of Wooyoung’s strange objects he used for healing-

You frowned, putting your finger right over the flame and feeling the familiarity of the flame, no, the shadow.

It couldn’t be.

“Uh, Seonghwa!” You almost screamed, making everyone look at you. “Is this your flame?”

Before Seonghwa could even make his way to you, you were rushing to him, surprised when the air didn’t make the flame budge, not one bit. You stopped when you reached them, blowing at the flame and everyone collectively gasped when it didn’t blow out.

“Wait, is this you?” Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa who shook his head furiously.

“My flame is white- you’ve seen it.”

“That’s not me. Mingi?”

“Isn’t this-” Mingi narrowed his eyes. “Douse it with water.”

“No,” you hid the candle away from him but Wooyoung was quick to grab the glass of water and spill it on the candle, making you shout and almost cry but you recovered when you saw the flame was still burning in its full glory. You settled the candle on the table and everyone stared at it.

“Should I say it?” Seonghwa looked at everyone. “It’s a shadow flame. It has to be Tirich.”

Your heart sank. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa smiled in disbelief, looking at Mingi. “You tell.”

Mingi poked his tongue in his cheek, a clear indication that he knew something. You waited for him to spill but he groaned, overwhelmed by everyone’s questioning gaze. “Look, it’s something Tirich said long ago as a joke- I didn’t know the demon could actually do it.”

“So it’s Tirich?”

“I’m not sure,” Mingi touched the flame. “Feels like it but I don’t feel its presence, you know?” Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “Maybe the demon gathered all its remaining energy to be this undying-” Mingi pressed his fingers on the wick of the candle, the flame disappearing but reappearing right when he pulled his fingers back, “-stubborn flame.”

Wooyoung cackled, clapping his hands in amusement. “It’s something Tirich would do. Just can’t leave us alone, can it?”

You laughed, nodding, happy tears leaving your eyes as you watched the flame burn endlessly, the candle wax not even melting. Mingi patted your back and the two of you shared a grin, a sense of relief settling over you.

The candle was placed on the fireplace mantel by you. You insisted that this was Tirich’s favourite spot though Wooyoung argued that it was the roof but you refused to give in. This was where you had first talked to Tirich and this was where you met every night. Once in a while, someone would try to see if the flame would budge- mostly Wooyoung again. He would try water, salt, everything in his book but the flame seemed to be immortal. Sometimes, when you watched it as you thought of Erebos, you could swear it flickered in response. You could swear it burned brighter whenever Mingi and you watched it together with the fondest memories of the demon in your hearts.

It didn’t hurt anymore, not like it did earlier. It was like the demon was still with you, in the form of that flame, watching over you. Whenever you felt like crying, you recalled how Tirich said it wanted to see you smile, always. So you never cried, at least not at your favourite spot where the candle stood. You only cried in Mingi’s arms who was always there for you, so loving and caring, so warm. He understood that you missed the demon- he, too, did. He had to cope not only emotionally but physically as well, so you focused your energy on trying to make it easier for him as well.

You learned how to etch on metal and with the help of Seonghwa, you created a candle stand for ‘Tirich’s candle’, as you all called it. It was a beautiful shade of silver and you etched a phrase on it that you would always remember. When you showed it off to everyone, they loved your idea and agreed the candle looked better with the new stand. You took to decorating the mantle next, everyone leaving a little something that they had associated with Tirich on it- a small bottle that Wooyoung used for storing their potion, a piece of mirror Seonghwa had brought from the demon realm where sometimes he could see his home, and the blue ribbon Mingi had tied the scroll with- the scroll which had turned to ashes the moment the curse broke.

You stared at the finished product now that the mantle was full of things surrounding the candle, your heart full as you read the etching on the candle stand.

Hearts Awakened, Live Alive.

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