#yandere vibes if you squint
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mammon. oh mammon.
since he's competing w/ all the other devils for your attention, he decided to be owned by you, not the other way around.
He opened up and admitted that he fell in love with you at first sight. if you remember, you were resting on his chest when you woke up in the hospital and he spent all that time thinking about how wonderful, breathtaking and powerful you were and what it would feel like for you to own him, for him to belong TO you.
He would be solely and exclusively devoted to you and to your well-being. Mind you, he's not a low level demon: he's the king of Tartaros, the wealthiest kingdom in Hell and everything belongs to him but, as his master, everything will belong to you as well.
The whole thing is new to the both of you but he's resolute: he likes you "just because", not because you're solomon's descendant but because you are you.
You'll come around someday and love him like he loves you. He wants you to surrender to your greed, to take everything from him and he'll accept everything you have to offer: from lovely dates along the tartaros river to long fucking sessions on his throne, he would lap it all up, like the good sub he was always meant to be.
in a world where you are seen as somebody else's stand-in, he's the one asking you to recognise him.
You're his master after all, no one can replace you.
He's yours. you just have to accept it as a fact, because he's not letting you go.
#what in hell is bad#whb#whb mammon#mammon#dom! reader#dom reader#sub character#sub! character#I WANNA OWN HIM#master kink go brrrr#he's my favourite king so far i want to eat him up grrrr hopefully leviathan will understand#the âtake meâ was too much for him i want him BAD (respectfully)#yandere vibes if you squint#sub whb#nay writes đ
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Yandere Stalker x you
Rated 18 + â mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, heâs weird as fuck, male masturbation, heâs infatuated with you.
*This fic is influenced by Youâa great tv show btw. Iâm trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do⊠Here is part two! He is referred to as âyour stalkerâ and this is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.
Whatâs more dangerous than a man madly in love?
He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.
Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.
Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the womenâs bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.
When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.
He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didnât have a uterus, and also didnât know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.
It definitely smelled odd⊠It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body wasâŠ. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didnât stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.
He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldnât see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasnât seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasnât easy to find someone that didnât document every single moment of their life on the internet.
A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.
None of them looked like you.
He couldnât find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.
He soon found out you had zero social media presence.
He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyoneâs shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologiesâŠhe finally saw you enter a store.
He looked up at the sign: âRated: Adventurous,â it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on⊠whips and leashes half off⊠wait what?
He didnât peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didnât know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didnât even look his wayâeven when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.
Huh.
He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. Itâs not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappearâhe knows exactly who to blame.
He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesnât hurt anybodyâ maybe his walletâ but itâs worth it if it means protecting you.
He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.
He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.
Night has fallen and heâs been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. Youâve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now⊠it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.
Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.
He wished you wouldâve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?
He wouldnât mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldnât mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldnât reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.
âShit baby, that feels so goodâŠâ He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. âIâm close Iâm close Iâm closeââ
He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.
The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.
#Allurilove yandere writing#tw stalking#cw blood#yandere x female reader#yandere x you#yandere x fem reader#yandere x y/n#male yandere x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc#smut writing#obsessive love#yandere fic#yandere stalking#yandere male#yandere smut#heâs gross#smutty smut smut#yandere writing#he wants you so bad
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If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?
That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar đ
Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!
Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.
A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness
Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth
Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didnât see later; English is not my 1st language.
Word count: 2,6k
Requested? Yes.
Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also Iâve seen all the requests for a part 2 of âHe's My Collarâ, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc Iâm working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.
Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.
Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.
You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.
â Hey! I heard what happened. Howâre you feeling? â The alienâs face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.
â Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. â Superman shook his head.
â I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- â Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. â You called someone? â His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.
Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.
â I didn't. â You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.
Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.
â Superman. â Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. â (Y/N). This is Penny-One. â He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. â He is here to take care of you. â You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.
â T-Take care of me? â You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.
â This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. â Supermanâs protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..
â You have your own responsibilities. â Batman simply states. â You should go.
Penny-One simply turns to you.
â It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. â You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.
You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).
Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?
At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.
Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someoneâs bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.
Did you fall asleep?
That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.
You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere â startling you even more â push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lanternâs construct.
â Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know sheâs scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. â You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.
Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquamanâs blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.
â You can release them now, Green Lantern. â It's Superman's voice.
â He is not going to. â You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. â He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. â I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? â He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss⊠And other obscene things. â Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.
â Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. â The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament⊠It would make such a messâŠ
â I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.
â I will make you scream! â You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.
â Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.
The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.
â WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? â You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.
Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.
It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.
â We came here to nurse you back to health. â Wonder Woman speaks.
â Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? â The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.
â I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. â Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. â Those two came in later. â He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. â Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. â Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.
â You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. Iâve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. â You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.
â I am are aware of my neglect. â Neglect? â But it's going to be different now that we are reunited⊠â Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?
â Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. â Wonder Woman caresses your face. â I don't even know what they think they are doing hereâŠ
â What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? â The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.
â Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. â Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! â What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? â The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.
â Iâm protecting Atlantisâs future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. â Batman shook his head.
â Iâve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.
â Then why aren't you there?
Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.
â Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). â Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.
â Let me do it, Penny-One. â Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).
You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup â after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender â, and take your medicine, Green Lanternâs temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.
They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.
You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.
Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while â slightly â mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lanternâs side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.
Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.
You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.
And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.
This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.
It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ringâs power, and the constructs start dissipating.
You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.
You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.
â Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What⊠W-What are you guys doing hereâŠ? â The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.
â Youâre late. â Batman states.
â Slowest man alive. â Green Lantern calls out his friend.
Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.
â What did you do to them? â At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.
â GET. OUT!
â But-
â OUT!
â But, (Y/N)-
â NOW! GET OUT NOW!
They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.
â N-Not you⊠I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later⊠I-If it's n-not bothering you⊠â The older man smiles placantinly at you.
â Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.
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@wandalfnation
#bruce wayne x reader#yandere dc#justice league#yandere batman x reader#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#masterlist#yandere justice league x reader#yandere justice league#hal jordan x reader#yandere hal jordan x reader#justice league x reader#diana prince x reader#yandere diana prince x reader#yandere green lantern x reader#green lantern x reader#yandere superman#superman x reader#yandere superman x reader#clark kent x reader#yandere clark kent x reader#yandere martian manhunter x reader#yandere aquaman x reader#yandere arthur curry x reader#arthur curry x reader#yandere wonder woman x reader#bruce wayne x assistant reader#justice league x assistant reader#yandere barry allen x reader#yandere flash x reader
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Oleander
Oikawa Tooru x female reader x Iwaizumi Hajime w.c 8.6k tw: yandere, mentions of child abuse and neglect, references to underage kissing, murder, horror themes, pseudo-cest (foster siblings), blanket dub/non-con vibes for a good portion of this
The patisserie smells of sugar, vanilla and freshly baked croissants. In a word; delicious.Â
For several minutes now, your brotherâs been standing bent at the waist, studying the display case stacked full of cakes and desserts with an intense kind of focus. Considering. Deliberating. Inadvertently placing himself, and by extension you, as an obstacle for other people trying to do the same.Â
âAlright, the crepe cake or the fancy looking chocolate one, theâŠâ Heisuke squints at the display case, trying to decipher the label, âgateaux? Or should we go for the red one with the strawberry mousse thing?â
Bingo. You hold back a smile.Â
âGo the strawberry one.â Nobody loves strawberries like your mom loves strawberries.Â
âOk, great. Weâll grab that, a bottle of nice wine, hit the florist and I think that should do it.â He nods to himself, satisfied. âSheâll be over the moon.â
Heâs not wrong. The woman youâve called a mother for the past ten years would fall over herself for something as simple as a birthday card, regardless of the fact that your dad insists on going all out every year.Â
âSheâs already over the moon; youâre home for the week.â The admissionâs soft, hesitant â poking a little too close to an open wound for you to feel entirely comfortable voicing it. Hei gives you an odd look, but it mellows into something more genuine when he realises youâre not taking a stab at him.Â
Baby steps.Â
Finally, Heisuke steps up to the counter to order. Within minutes the cakeâs boxed up, with little ice-packs slipped in to keep it cool, and paid for, and the two of you head out, you holding the door open for Hei to carefully maneuver his way out without jostling the precious, expensive cargo.Â
âYouâre good at this stuff, yâknow,â he says as the two of you fall into step together.Â
âAt⊠picking cakes?â
He snorts, âNo. I meant the whole⊠I donât know. Youâre good at remembering stuff, the cakes mom likes, dadâs weird habits. You probably already know what flowers weâre going to pick for her, donât you?â
This time you donât bother hiding your smile â peonies, pink ones.Â
You go to tell him as much when a loud voice calls out your name. On instinct, you both spin to the source, and when you meet those piercing, olive green eyes, bearing down at you from the other side of the street, your heart leaps into your throat.
A ghost.
You canât breathe. For a moment you canât even think. Your hand stretches out, blindly seeking Heisuke, an anchor, anythingâ
Before your fingers can brush his sleeve, a hard, lean body collides with yours, sweeping you up into a crushing hug. Not Iwaizumi, though.Â
Oikawa, taller, broader than the last time you saw him, smelling of citrus, summer and salt lets out a breathy noise, halfway between amazement and disbelief.Â
âThere you are,â he beams, setting you back on unsteady legs.Â
Found you, the glint in his eyes seems to say.Â
Rather than let you go, step back and give you some much needed space to breathe, his palm instead slides to rest on your hip, taking your chin between the index finger and thumb of his other hand in order to look at you properly, dark eyes poring over you for signs of anything amiss â bruises, tear-tracks, red eyes, swollen, split lips.Â
Your mouth goes dry.Â
On one side, thereâs your brother, bewildered, arm half outstretched as if he canât make his mind up whether he should be intervening or not. Iwaâs already jogging across the street, snarling at a driver who lays on his horn.Â
The weight of Oikawaâs appraisal is as familiar to you as it is oppressive, and while his touch is delicate, featherlight, it burns to the marrow. Suddenly youâre fourteen again, trying to duck past him before he can notice the state of you. Â
âItâs nothing, Tooru, donât worry about it!âÂ
And just like back then, thereâs a knot in your chest that doesnât loosen until satisfaction melts the too sharp edge to his grin â right as Iwa joins you two. Three, you suppose, because while Heisuke remains in stunned silence, eyes darting between you and Oikawa, heâs still party to this, still a witness, and the thought makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever.Â
(You shove down the fleeting rush of warmth at the relief you find there, the voice in your head that coos that he still cares enough to check. You donât want him to care.)
âHoly fuck,â Iwa laughs, and Oikawaâs shoved aside, both of you ignoring the indignant grumbling as your rigid bodyâs pulled into his chest, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. He breathes in slow. Deep.
He still smells the same, earthy and masculine, the faintest tinge of his last cigarette still clinging to his jacket. Back then, he used to steal them from your foster father. You imagine that now, he probably has the money to go off and buy his own.Â
âIâm sorry, who are you? Whatâ can you let her go, please?âÂ
If it wasnât them, the sheer absurdity of the moment mightâve made you giggle. Heisukeâs ears are bright red, a flush that extends down his neck. He doesnât look angry per se, uncomfortable, absolutely, but from the pinched expression on his face, itâs clear heâs fighting the urge to bite out something far less polite.Â
None of this, least of all the way theyâre tugging you between them like a rag-doll, feels very polite to begin with.
As it is, Heisukeâs interruption has the intended effect. The fingers wound in your hair twitch, the cage of his arms drawing you closer. You almost expect the baring of teeth, a possessive snarl, yet itâs a small, almost imperceptible thing. He retreats â reluctantly â turning to glance at your brother, Oikawa by his side.
Judging from the stony, almost bored expression he levels at Hei, heâs not impressed.
âFriend of yours, imouto?â Oikawaâs purr skitters down your spine like ice. Unlike Iwa, thereâs nothing less than friendly curiosity on the surface. Heâs even smiling.Â
Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you find your voice.Â
âHei, this is Iwaizumi and Oikawa,â you say, gesturing at each respectively. âWe were in the same foster home for a while.â Sparing the two of them half a glance, you continue, âWeâre actually right in the middle of something, if youâll excuse us.â
The explicit dismissalâs bolder than you feel, but youâre proud that your voice doesnât waver. You canât say the same for your hand when you reach for Heisukeâs spare one, uttering the words thatâll only damn you further, âCâmon, nii-san. Mom and dad are waiting.â
Heisuke doesnât blink. His hand slips into yours, the two of you sidestepping the pair and walking off towards the car without a backwards glance.Â
Neither one of you speaks until youâre buckled into the passenger seat, Heisuke adjusting the rear-view mirror, the cake safely stashed away in the back. Until youâre pulling out onto the main road and thereâs distance between you and them.
If only the gnawing, unsettling feeling in your stomach would go with it.
âSorry,â you mumble, blankly staring out the window at the passing scenery. At the clouds hanging overhead, dark and threatening. Funny, that. Fitting. The skies were clear when you left home this morning. âAbout the nii-san thing, and grabbing your hand,â you clarify, because whether it was rude or not, youâll be damned before you apologise for brushing them off.Â
Thatâs not your relationship with Hei. Itâs never been that.Â
He eyes you for a beat. âYou know, I never understood why mom wanted to adopt so bad. Dad too, but mom was always the one pushing for it. We were happy, the three of us. I wasnât a screw up, their marriage was solid. I couldnât understand the need to bring someone else in. Our family was fine, perfect the way it was.â
His thumb taps against the steering wheel, his shoulders loose and relaxed. You canât quite pin the mood heâs in, where heâs going with this.Â
âOh,â you say, mostly because it feels like heâs waiting for you to acknowledge it.Â
None of what heâs saying is news to you. None of itâs anything you havenât wondered yourself a thousand times over. Itâs just that Heisuke⊠youâve never talked about this. Your adoption, your relationship with him, none of it. This sort of honesty is brand new territory for you both.Â
Youâre not so sure youâre loving the development.Â
âWhen they committed to it, I thought theyâd bring home a baby, a kid, not some weird, skittish fourteen year old who wanted nothing to do with me.âÂ
Ah.
Your cheeks heat, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here. If Heisuke notices how you shift in your seat, the small tightening of your expression, he plows on regardless.
âYou wouldnât look at me, would barely talk to me. Hell, you acted like I had the plague most of the time. You didnât hate me, I donât think, you just⊠didnât want to be anywhere near me, and it bugged the hell out of me. I couldnât figure it out; who wouldnât want an older brother to look out for them?â His next words hit you like a sledgehammer, cracking at something vital in your chest. It hurts before he opens his mouth.
âIt was them, wasnât it? The reason you steered clear âtil I moved out of home.â
âHeisââ
He cuts you off with a look. âIâm right, arenât I?â he demands.Â
âCan we justâ it doesnât matter, alright? Can we move on?â
From the unhappy set of his jaw â the first true sign of discontent heâs expressed since getting in the car with you â itâs obvious thereâs more he wants to say. You canât blame him for that, curiosityâs only human.Â
But youâre still too raw. Itâs too soon.
Youâve spent too long burying those secrets deep to rip yourself apart to bring them to light.Â
âPlease, Hei. Letâs focus on momâs birthday.â You force a smile, tiny and wrong, âThe florist is next, yeah?âÂ
You get a grunt of acknowledgement and not much more than that, your brotherâs attention pulling back to the drive. The silence that settles in the car should bring some relief. Itâs what you wanted, and yet, amongst the churning feeling in your guts, the prickling at the back of your neck that hasnât left you since you first spotted Iwa across the road, thereâs a sense of discomfort that has nothing to do with crossing paths with your past life.Â
Like a slap in the face, it hits you that youâre floundering for something to say, something â anything â to bridge the sudden, stark divide between you. Something that wonât sound hollow and meaningless.Â
This thing you have with Heisuke. It took years, and maybe itâs skin deep and miles from what it should be, but the thought of losing it leaves you feeling oddly panicked.
Itâll⊠hurt.
âIâm sorry,â you mumble, because itâs about all you can give him right now, a tried and true method of soothing egos and hurt.Â
Heisuke doesnât say anything for the remainder of the drive, and you resign yourself to the very real possibility that in the course of a single conversation, youâve managed to fracture this fragile thing between you two.Â
Until you go for the door, and a hand on your wrist stops you. âHey. Iâm glad they did.â
â
When you startle awake a little after midnight, itâs because heâs yelling again.Â
Mr. Furukawa had been in fine form at dinner, already three beers deep. You can only begin to imagine whatâs set him off now, hours after lights out. His wife, probably. Although itâs equally possible heâs caught the oldest sneaking back in from seeing his girlfriend, or the twins trying to break into the pantry for a midnight snack. Or he tripped and stubbed his toe, or thought someone stole the rest of his beer when in reality heâd already swallowed it down.Â
The reasons donât really matter when heâs been drinking like that, in the same way that the initial target of his ire doesnât matter. Once his voice reaches that slurred, furious pitch, anyoneâs fair game.
Thereâs a pair of headphones in the top drawer, you have every intention of yanking them out and putting on one of your sleep playlists, drowning out the noise of your foster fatherâs drunken raging until he wears himself out or you fall back to sleep when you hear the thumping of his feet on the staircase.
âWhereâs that fucking bitch?â
Eyes wide in the darkness, clutching at the comforter, your pulse jumps.
Again, itâs possible heâs talking about Mrs. Furukawa, or one of your foster sisters â the older one hunched over in the bed opposite yours, watching you shrewdly.
âWell go on then,â she sneers. âRun to your big brothers.â
You donât bother to respond, any hesitation you mightâve had over leaving her to fend for herself shrivelling up under the mocking bitterness sheâs sending your way. Fine, whatever. You donât care what she thinks, scrambling from the warmth of your bed and hurrying for the door.
Heâs halfway up the staircase when you reach their room. Youâd knock â itâs the polite thing to do â except you definitely donât want to be out in plain view when your foster father hits the landing.Â
âHajime?â you whisper into the darkness, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you, âTooru?â
âShit, câmere.â At Hajimeâs voice, the calloused, rough hands that guide you onto his mattress, the vice around your chest loosens. He wonât come in here, not after Hajime socked him in the face after catching sight of the raised, discoloured flesh of your cheek from your last run in. Youâve gotten better at using make-up to conceal the marks since then, but thereâs also been less of a need for it.
âCan I stay for a bit?â you ask. Until he calms down and passes out. Until the sun rises and you can sneak back into your room. Until you feel safe again. Itâs kind of a pointless question, considering how many times youâve done this before and how many times theyâve let you. You ask it anyway.
The scoff that sounds moments before the mattress dips on your other side is answer enough. âYou should probably just move in at this point. Weâll kick Iwa out, he can go sleep in bitch-faceâs room.â
Although you know you shouldnât, a not-so-nice grin tugs at your lips, nestling into Tooruâs side under the arm he offers, âSheâd drive him homicidal in a week.â
âDoesnât she already?â Hajime mutters. âAnd fuck off, if anyoneâs moving out itâs you.âÂ
âYouâd miss me too much.â
Absentmindedly, he rubs at your arm like itâs second nature. âIn your dreams, Shitty-kawa.â
You can still hear Mr. Furukawa stomping around outside, snarling and snapping at no-one and nothing. Your pulse skitters, an inbuilt panic response. But the lights are off, youâre not being too noisy, and heâs wary of the other two.
He wonât come in here.Â
âRelax, weâve got you,â Tooru breathes, his nose nudging at your temple. âWhere were you this afternoon?â His voice is so soft, a soothing rumble that it takes you a second to register what heâs said.Â
âThis afternoon?â
âMm. You didnât come home when you were supposed to. We were worried.â
Heâs pouting, you can tell. Whichâ he canât be genuinely bothered by it, it was only a few hours, and the Furukawas donât care where you are or what you do so long as youâre back before curfew. You were.Â
A distraction then?
âI went out with some friends. We hung out at the arcade for a bit,â your expression brightens, thinking of the lights and the laughter, your feet blurring as you hit the sensors on Dance Dance Revolution⊠poorly. âIt was actually pretty fun!â
Tooru hums again, âWhich friends?â at the same time that Hajime says, âYou didnât tell us you were going out.â
âI didnât realise I had to check in.â And because the slightly bitter and very defensive edge to your tone catches even you by surprise, you sigh, softening. âIâm allowed to have friends, arenât I? A social life?â
Youâve been in this home for a few months now, and this is the first time any of your classmates have invited you anywhere.Â
This time itâs Tooru who sighs. He coaxes your face upwards with a hand on your cheek, peering through the dim light at you, âIâm not saying this to be cruel or hurt you, but⊠I need you to be more careful, okay?â
You frown, âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
His thumb glides across your cheek bone, hesitating on whatever it is he wants to sayâ at least until Hajime huffs and mutters, âJust tell her, dude. Youâre the one that brought it up.â
âTell me what?â
âYouâre a foster kid,â he reminds you, as if this is vital information thatâs somehow slipped your mind. âThatâs all they see when they look at us, all theyâll ever see. No money, no family, nothing worth wasting their time on. Weâre charity cases at best, at worstâŠâ he trails off, the sentence dangling in the air.Â
He thinks itâs a trick, you realise. He thinks theyâre setting you up in an elaborate joke where youâre the punchline.Â
Bright blue eyes and a crooked grin flash in your head. Cheeks dusted pink and the warmth of his hand in yours.Â
âThatâs not true,â you defend, though the words sound weak even to your ears.Â
Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the gentle, pitying expression on his face twists at your insides like a knife. You hardly notice Hajime scooching closer, shifting the blankets so they cover you both, too busy staring at your foster brother with wide eyes and parted lips, a thick lump of emotion lodging itself in your throat. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you blink them back.
You wonât cry in front of them over this. You refuse.
âNo? Youâve been here for months now. If they wanted to be your friend, truly, genuinely wanted that, why havenât they made an effort before now? Iâm not trying to be a dick,â he murmurs when your breathing hitches, âThe kids in this town, theyâre assholes. I just canât bear the thought of someone hurting you.â
Hajime nods. âWe only wanna protect you, imouto.â
But you donât need to be protected. Omori isnât like that. His friends arenât either.Â
â
When the last bell rings for the day, you walk down to the gates to find Hajime there, leaning against the brickwork with a pilfered cigarette dangling between his fingers.Â
That in and of itself isnât a surprise. Lately theyâve taken up the habit of ditching their last period to make the half mile trek to your school in order to walk back home with you. Most days, you donât mind. Today, howeverâ
âI sent you a message at lunch, you didnât need to come all the way down here, Iâm going to a friendâs place to study. Sorry, I thought you wouldâve seen it before you left.â
He drops the cherry red remnants of his cigarette to the ground and grinds the butt under his heel, eyeing you slowly from head to toe. âWhich friend?â
âWhen did you become so nosey?â you laugh, a touch uneasily. âItâs only for an hour or so, Iâll be back before dinner, promise. Iâm all yours after that.â The last partâs meant to lighten the mood a little, yet something flashes in his eyes, a twitch in his jaw, and you get the sense that he doesnât find it all that funny.Â
âWhich friend? That slimy piece of shit you were hanging out with last weekend?â
Omori? How does heâ
You frown, âWe went to the movies, Hajime, itâs not illegal. And heâs not slimy or a little shit, heâs my friend.â A friend who sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes you weak at the knees, but Hajime doesnât need to know that.Â
âOh, Iâm sure he wants to be your friend,â he mutters darkly.Â
Your cheeks burn hotly, âWhy are you being like this? Heâs a nice guy. Besides, itâs not him. Iâm going to Masakoâs to work on a group presentation weâve got due in a few days. I didnât think youâd make such a big deal out of it!â
âYour mistake,â he says, as if youâre the one being unreasonable here, and before you can spit out a retort, his hand is curled around your bicep, tugging you down the road. âCâmon, weâre going home. Tell your little friend you can work on your project tomorrow at lunch.âÂ
âHa-Hajime!â His too tight grip on you doesnât relent, his stride doesnât falter. Nervously, you dart a glance around, half hoping that someone will intercede, all the while praying that no oneâs actually noticed him dragging you off like a misbehaving toddler.
As always, youâre not that lucky. The sight of your classmates pointing your way, giggling behind their hands sends a hot pulse of shame flooding through you.Â
âYou know youâre not my actual brother, I donât need your permission!âÂ
That does stop him, turning back around to throw a scowl at you, âNo? Because I donât see anyone else lining up to stop you from spreading your legs for the first asshole who comes sniffing around. Jesus Christ, werenât you listening the other day?â
âIâm fourteen!â you shriek, ripping your arm away from him. âStop being gross and leave me alone, I already told you Iâm going to Masakoâs. We have a project. For school!â
In an instant, he closes the gap between you. Hajime isnât as tall as Tooru, but at two years older, he still towers over you, all broad shouldered and intense, and while heâs always cut an intimidating figure, it strikes you that this is the first time youâve ever looked at him and felt afraid.
A split second later, and he exhales with a mumbled curse, the tension deflating from his body like a pinâs been pulled. In a quieter voice, hooking an arm over your neck to press a fleeting kiss to your hair, he says, âSometimes it feels like Iâm losing my damn mind trying to keep us all safe and sane and fucking together.â
Itâs not exactly an apology. StillâŠyou shift on your feet, nibbling at your bottom lip. âIâm sorry for snapping,â you mumble â an olive branch, even if youâre not feeling particularly charitable right now. The problem is, you do understand where heâs coming from. In two years, theyâll both age out, free to go and do whatever the hell they want. Thereâs a not insignificant part of you thatâs terrified that when that time comes, theyâre not gonna hang around another two years waiting for you.Â
Youâre not sure you can hold them to that promise.Â
And thatâs if nothing happens before then. Foster kids in group homes get shuffled all the time, thereâs no guarantee all three of you will still be with the Furukawas come their 18th birthdays.Â
Of course heâs over-protective. Of course heâs being a little nuts about it.Â
Hajime nods, pats you on the head and gives you a rare smile, âGood. Now get your ass moving, we gotta get home.â
âWait, but I thoughtââ youâd apologised, heâd admitted he was overreacting⊠sort of. Isnât that enough?
âSocial workerâs coming by this afternoon. Furukawa wants us to play happy families âtil theyâre gone. Your friendâs gonna have to wait.â
And thatâs that.Â
Dejection washes over you, trudging back home with Hajime â trying not to be childish and petty and hold it against him.
The social worker never shows, but thereâs a message waiting on your phone when you finally manage to pry yourself away from Hajime and Tooru.
Your brotherâs a dick. Raincheck? ;)
Butterflies erupt.Â
â
Youâve been biting your lip again.
The raw, chapped evidence stares back at you in the mirror.Â
A few days ago, they were a little swollen, rough and reddened. The sight of it sent a giddy sort of thrill through you, a physical â if not sore â reminder of your afternoon spent kissing a cute boy with very pretty blue eyes.Â
Now, the state of your lips is the least of your worries. Youâll bite your lips, gnaw on your fingernails right down to the quick, pace and think and pace and think, fingers tap, tap tapping at your side.
âYou look tired.âÂ
The arms that loop around your shoulders, dragging you back into a loose hug donât bring the sense of comfort they usually do. Things have been weird between you. Off.
Ever since Tooru caught sight of your face that day, saw the messages on your phone.Â
âI never took you for a liar, imouto.â
The resultant argument left you choking on sobs, heart-broken and beaten down in a way that you havenât felt since you found out your parents died.Â
Itâs a strange, alienating thing to be cut so viciously by the only people who give a damn about you.
At first, you had Omori there to help pick up the pieces. He wasnât allowed over, of course, and even if he were, you doubt itâd do anything but throw a whole gallon of kerosene on the fire. Still, being able to message and vent to him felt like a lifeline.Â
And then he simply⊠stopped replying. Your last message sitting there for two days on read.
You tried not to feel hurt. Maybe this whole thing was too intense, too quick. My god, you werenât even dating officially, he was just, you wereâ
It was fine. Not everyoneâs tied to their phone, and he doesnât owe you anything. Maybe something came up, maybe his phone died.
But then, come Monday, he wasnât in school.
On Tuesday morning, sitting in first period maths, a grim-faced man in a dull suit informs your class that Omoriâs been missing since Saturday morning. Youâre passed a business card with the detectiveâs name and phone number printed in crisp, black font and encouraged to contact him if thereâs anything you can think of that might help them.
Uneasy looks are shared. No one says a word.
Which brings you to today, to the hug Tooruâs drawn you into and his voice murmuring at your ear.Â
âArenât you still mad at me?â
His laugh rumbles at your back, âMaybe I miss you too much.â
You should tell him to shove it. Whether youâre in the right or the wrong, itâs not fair of him to play hot and cold with you like this. Being at odds with your brothers is painful enough on its own, dealing with that on top of everything with Omori â itâs too much. Youâll drown under the weight of it.
And so you turn, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying yourself against him. âI donât wanna fight anymore. Iâm sorry.â
While he doesnât say anything back, he does squeeze you that little bit tighter. Youâre content with that, soaking up the affection and comfort youâve sorely been without. Itâs an apology, yes. Itâs also forgiveness.Â
âWhereâs Hajime?â you ask after a little while. They arenât inseparable by any means, but you donât think youâve seen him this afternoon at all.Â
Rather than answering you, the brunet pulls back enough to meet your gaze, a twinkle in his eyes, âWeâre going out tonight.â
The words bring you up short. âButââ
âFurukawa wonât know a thing. Itâll be fun, pinky promise.â He holds out said pinky, the grin on his face infectious enough that you offer a tiny one of your own, locking your finger around his.
He winks.Â
â
âSweetheart, shall we open the wine?â
She hasnât stopped beaming all afternoon, delighted at the flowers and the gifts, your dad humming away in the kitchen, cooking enough to feed a small army. Â
Heisukeâs already plucking a bottle from the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. He lifts a questioning brow in your direction and you nod with as much of a smile as you can muster. Nothing sounds more appealing to you right now than a drink.
Several of them, actually. Youâll start with one.
âThanks,â you murmur when he passes it to you.Â
Quietly enough that your parents wonât hear, he asks, âYou good?â
âIâm good,â you reassure him, lying through your teeth. His knuckles knock against yours, and when you glance up, thereâs a wordless promise that the two of you arenât done with this.Â
Heâs been watching you ever since you got home. Not in the predatory, possessive way they used to, just⊠you very reluctantly gave him crumbs â not even that much â yet heâs staring at you like youâre a piece of a puzzle heâs desperate to solve. Heâs looking at you like heâs seeing you for the first time, and you donât know how to deal with it.Â
It makes you nervous.
âDid something happen between you two?â The quiet voice at your side startles you â perhaps youâre more on edge than youâd like to admit, because your whole body flinches, the wine in your glass sloshing up over the rim, just barely avoiding your dress and the edge of the couch.Â
You hadnât even noticed your mom had sat down.
Cursing under your breath, you jump up before she can, snatching some paper towels from the kitchen, paying no mind the slight, disapproving tilt to your fatherâs mein (the one which, to his credit, he does try to hide) to mop up the mess on the floor.
âSorry,â you throw out, both for the spill and for swearing, because that too is something neither of your parents are fond of, but your momâs quick to wave it away.
âNonsense. Youâre fine, sweet girl. Come, sit!â She pats the seat youâve vacated. âRelax.â
Your dadâs in the kitchen, laughing with Hei. Your momâs still happy â itâs slowly leaching from her eyes the longer she looks at you, the more she sees. Relax.Â
Todayâs supposed to be a happy day.
Relax.Â
You canât.
They know some of your past. Bits and pieces.Â
In ten years, youâve never uttered a single word about them. Not to anyone.Â
The more you shove it down, the more it fights back, bubbling away inside of you like the tempest of a storm. You can feel yourself cracking, unshed tears burning at your eyes.Â
You canât.
â⊠Momââ
A knock cuts through the rising tide of emotion battering through you, and all four of you start.Â
Your dad moves first, drying his hands and striding on over to answer it. On his way, he glances to where you and your mom are sitting â instinctively. Unthinkingly. He glances her way a thousand times a day â to check in, to see what sheâs doing, to catch those little expressions she makes, only this time he isnât met with the picture of a happy wife and daughter. You see it when it hits him, the tension, your wrought expression, the hand your momâs slipped you in the seconds since, holding you tight and keeping you tethered.
You see it when he does a double take, sharp surprise quickly overtaken by alarm.Â
Another knock at the door. Louder.Â
His head snaps back towards the door, glaring at it like itâs personally wronged him. âOne sec,â he mutters to no one in particular, and your mom squeezes your hand as he yanks it open with a touch more force than necessary.
âYes?â
The air punches out of your lungs.
From where youâre sitting, the door cracked ajar, your dadâs frame blocking the gap, you canât see whoâs there. Not until he peeks over your dadâs shoulder, his charming grin widening into something shark-like and predatory when he spots you, delighted.Â
An elevator careening out of control, your stomach plummets.
Ignoring your dad â your family as a whole â entirely, Oikawa addresses you. âYou dropped this this morning. Clumsy girl.âÂ
Iwa passes him something, your wallet, you realise when he holds it out to you, waving it like a dog treat.Â
Your wallet with your ID, this address, tucked away inside.Â
The wallet you absolutely, in no way dropped.Â
Primarily on instinct, shaking like a newborn foal, you start to rise, to stumble forward and take it from him, only itâs Heisuke who moves first. Angrier than you think youâve ever seen him, he plants himself between you, one arm outstretched as if to keep you back, his withering gaze fixed on the duo.
âThank you for returning it,â he bites out. âYou can leave now.â
For your parents, already on edge, suspicious by their familiarity and your reaction to it, itâs enough to set their hackles up. Gone is any semblance of politeness when your father snatches your wallet from Oikawaâs fingers, âGo.â
Up until now, Oikawaâs paid them all the attention one would a gnat, an annoyance maybe, but one hardly worth acknowledging. That changes as his head tilts, dark eyes appraising your father.Â
âWhatâs the rush?â he asks, reaching behind him. You canât see it, what with your dad and now Heisuke standing between you, but thereâs movement, your dad lets out a sudden, choked off gurgle, lurching back inside.Â
Your eyes widen, a bone chilling horror taking hold of you as you spy the sleek black handle of a knife sticking out his gut, a slow stain of red seeping out around it.Â
âWeâve still got so much catching up to do.â
â
Youâve never been this far into the woods before.
Stars glitter overhead, condensation from your breath puffing out with every exhale. Itâs cold out. The path youâre walking isnât one of the trails they lay for hikers and tourists, and youâve been walking for a while.Â
Still, Tooruâs hand is warm entwined with yours, and thereâs that wicked thrill in your belly that comes from breaking the rules, doing secret, exciting things in the dead of night.
âIs Hajime waiting for us?â you ask, when you can hold the question back no longer.
âAlways Hajime with you, isnât it,â he teases. âYâknow, a guy could develop a complex with all this favouritism being thrown around.â
Youâre pulled closer into his side even as he says it, and you go happily. Youâve got your brothers back â tonight youâre only thinking good thoughts.Â
Tonight he promised you fun.
A giddy bounce in your step, you follow where your big brother leads until you spot a glow in the trees ahead, smell the smoke on the mid-autumn breeze.
Tooru grins in the dark, âHave you ever been to a bonfire?â
You shake your head.Â
It takes another few minutes before you can see the fire in all its grandeur, Hajime standing off to the side, warming his hands against the flames. They dance through the clearing, bright and high and hot, hot enough that you briefly consider shedding the jacket Tooru swaddled you up in before you left.
A bonfire?Â
They built this for you?
You look incredulously to Tooru, âThis is where heâs been all day?â
âMore or less.â
âDo you like it, pretty girl?â Hajime calls out when youâre closer. Your hand slips from Tooruâs as you leap forward, allowing him to catch you in his arms and tug you against him, and like earlier with Tooru, it eases some of the hurt weighing you down. Heâs here, heâs not angry anymore, you can fight and argue like siblings but they arenât going anywhere.Â
He presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your hair. âItâs pretty cool,â you tell him with a decisive nod, making him chuckle.Â
âMaybe we should add more accelerant,â Tooru says, eyeing the flames with a considering look. âI donât know if itâs hot enough.â
Hajime scoffs, âWe donât need any more accelerant.â
âButââ
âItâs fine, dumbass. Leave it.â
Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Tooru takes the space on your other side. In the Western movies youâve seen, these bonfire things usually have more of a party-like vibe. Thereâs music and dancing. Drinking. This is something wholly different.
You donât mind the quiet, though, sitting between your brothers on the fallen log they dragged over. Listening to the crackle of the fire. Watching red embers spark and fly off into the night.Â
Youâve missed this. Them.Â
In the hypnosis of the fire, the heat that covers you like a blanket â burning strongly enough, despite what Tooru thinks, that down to a tee-shirt, leaning into Hajimeâs side, Tooru playing with your fingers, you feel you could so easily drift off to sleep, sated and content.
âYou love us, donât you?â Tooru says it so quietly, so off-handedly, that for a moment you donât hear the stinging accusation beneath the words.Â
When it does, whatever fleeting contentment youâd managed to wrap yourself up in is ripped away, leaving you cold and exposed.Â
A slap in the face mightâve stung less.
You gape at him. At the both of them. âHow can you ask me that?â
Tooru shrugs, casual and cruel, âI dunno. You lied to us. Multiple times.â
âSnuck around behind our backs,â Hajime adds.
âKept things from us. Donât think we havenât noticed the new lock on your phone, imouto. Doesnât sound like love to me.â
âIâ Iâve already apologised.â You try to keep your voice calm and level, but with every word that pours out of you, the faster your heart beats and the more distress leaks into your tone. âIâm sorry, okay? Iâm sorry I lied, Iâm sorry I went behind your backs, Iâm sorry I kissed him! I donât know what you want from me, I donât know how to fix this!âÂ
Hot tears spring to your eyes, stinging as you ferociously blink them back.Â
If you start crying now, theyâll probably just mock you. That, or theyâll claim that youâre trying to manipulate them into feeling bad with crocodile tears and hiccuping sniffles.Â
In a tiny voice, you say, âI didnât do any of it to hurt you. Please,â you beg helplessly. âYou canât keep holding it over my head and punishing me for it.â
âYou think weâre punishing you?â Tooru asks, still in that cold, flat tone that makes you want to sob.
Arenât they? Sure feels like it.
Hajime lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and staring up at the night sky. âYou still donât fucking get it.âÂ
Hands slip under your armpits and without warning you find yourself hoisted onto Tooruâs lap. Itâs whiplash, especially when he curls around you, those lithe arms caging you in, and presses a kiss to your burning cheek. âIwa, brute that he is, is right. Youâre not listening to us. This isnât punishment. You can pretend to hate us, cry, yell, fight. You can try to shut us out if thatâs what you feel you need, but this,â his chin juts out at the bonfire crackling merrily a few feet away, âthis is love.â He shivers as he says it, voice like honey. âWe did it for you, and Iâd do so much more.â
Your headâs still spinning, reeling from being yanked from one extreme to another. Hot and cold. Spiteful to affectionate. You stare at the fire, but you donât understand.Â
âYeah, like you didnât enjoy the hell out of it,â Hajime snorts, which makes even less sense.
ââŠYou mean theâ the bonfire?â
Tooru laughs. His nose skims along the shell of your ear, earning him a shiver of your own. âHm, almost.â
So you peer at the fire like itâs supposed to give you the answers you need. Thereâs nothing. Itâs a fire, thereâs nothing special aboutâŠ
Oh.
You learn forward â as much as the cage of his embrace will allow, at any rate â squinting a little. Nestled beneath the stacked logs and kindling, thereâs an oddly shaped lump, black and gnarled, with ridges and a scooped out hollow that kinda looks likeâ
Your blood runs cold.Â
âWhatâs the matter, baby?â he croons. âYouâve been so sad all week, wondering where your friend up and disappeared to. Arenât you glad to see him again?â
âNo.â Whisper soft, the noise lost to the crackling of the fire. You shake your head, âThisâ youâre being cruel. Stop it, itâs not funny.âÂ
But the tears youâve so valiantly held back are falling, your breath coming in short, panicky gasps. The skull in the fire doesnât look fake, and if this is a prank, itâs gone beyond too far.
Your head grows light and all too heavy at the same time, âThat isnâtâ you didnâtâ you⊠youâ you wouldnâtââ
âNo?â the voice at your ear questions, low and dangerous. âYou think I wouldnât stab the little fuck after you kissed him?â
âStop it,â you tearfully beg, squeezing your eyes shut. The skullâs still there, burned into the back of your eyelids.Â
No, no, no. Omori isnât dead.Â
Omori isnât dead.
Your heart slams against your ribs, a violent chorus to the swell of sick dread and fear youâre desperately trying to tamp down. Omori isnât dead!
âSTOP IT!âÂ
They wouldnât kill him.Â
The crunch of footsteps sounds, and you donât need your vision to know that Hajimeâs now crouching in front of you. When rough fingers seize your jaw, holding you in place, and he leans in close, almost nose to nose, they fly open regardless.Â
âYou ever try that shit again, and next time weâll drag you by the fucking hair and do it in front of you,â he promises, calm despite the fury that rages in his eyes.Â
Caged between them, Hajime appraises you, taking in your hysteria, the tears dripping down your face, your bottom lip quivering â as though heâs committing the sight to memory. His eyes dart to Tooruâs for a brief second, the latter squeezing your side, before he speaks. âIf youâd listened to us in the first place, this wouldnât have happened. Donât make us into monsters, sweetheart.â
Your fault is what you hear.Â
Thereâs a loud pop from the fire, and you lose it entirely.Â
You explode. Elbows flying, kicking, clawing. A wild, terrified, desperate thing, and it takes them by surprise â enough to catch Tooru in the gut, loosening his grip. Enough to knock Hajime back onto his ass. A gap, however small, for you to scramble to your knees, violently kicking back when a hand snatches at your ankle, and flee through the woods in the dark, away from the furious shouts, the raging footsteps chasing after you.Â
You run and your lungs burn, heaving for every breath.Â
The light of the bonfire disappears behind you, plunging the forest into an inky black, and the shouts and yells turn into calls of your name, then coaxing pleas, almost sounding worried. Eventually, those grow distant too, and fade away altogether.Â
You keep running, uncertain of where youâre going. No, blind to it entirely. All that matters is keeping out of their reach. Youâll run to the ends of the earth if you have to.Â
And so you push until your legs scream for a reprieve, until you taste iron on your tongue and when your body can keep the pace no longer, you stumble through the underbrush, tripping over roots and branches instead, pausing every once in a while to lean against a tree and catch your breath.Â
As your adrenaline fades and the sweat dampening your clothes cools, the cold night air bites like needles at your skin, you start to shiver, rubbing at your exposed arms in an effort to generate a little warmth. Bitterly, you remember that the jacket that youâd brought, the one Tooru had all but forced on you before youâd left, is back at the bonfire, slung over a nearby log. Useless to you now.Â
But the shivers that wrack your body arenât solely from the dropping temperature.
Every snapping branch, hoot of an owl, rustle of leaves sends a fresh wave of terror spiking through you. You think of Tooruâs cruel smirk and Hajimeâs bruising grip, of Omoriâs skull staring back at you from the fire, flesh melted to the bone, black and twisted, and a ragged, distraught sob brings you to your knees.
Hopelessly lost, cold, frightened and alone, you curl into the dirt and cry.Â
â
Hikers find you at dawn.Â
Emergency services are called â an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital to be poked and prodded, police to question why a fourteen year old girl was wandering the woods alone at night.
They treat you for dehydration and mild hypothermia, a few small cuts and scrapes, and when a soft spoken nurse pulls the curtain around your bed and gently asks if youâd like them to perform a rape kit, you blanch and shake your head. Eventually, they allow the detective into the room. In his late forties, bespectacled, a smattering of grey dusted throughout his close cropped black hair, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and patiently asks how youâre feeling.
If you were a better person, youâd tell him everything. The Furukawasâ abuse, your foster brothersâ increasingly overprotective behaviour, sneaking behind their back to see Omori and the fight that followed that nearly ripped you apart.Â
The bonfire.
Your fault, your fault, your fault.
Omori deserves that much. His parents should know what happened to their son.
Your jacket lying forgotten by his bones.Â
âPlease donât take me back there,â you mumble, tears shining in your eyes.Â
Back to the woods, or the Furukawas. Back to the boys youâd loved whoâd murdered for you.
In the end, it doesnât really matter that thatâs all they can get out of you. A traumatised teenager found miles from home without a single soul raising the alarm would be one thing. When that traumatised teenagerâs a girl supposedly under the care of government approved guardians, it raises red flags not even they can ignore.
By lunch, theyâve arranged for you to be placed back in an all-girl orphanage until a more suitable, long term solution can be found.
â
Some nights you dream that youâre back there, in their bedroom at the Furukawasâ. Itâs dark and cozy, thereâs an arm slung over your waist and you find yourself drifting off to the steady beat of the heart behind you, soft snores by your ear.
Theyâre nice dreams. You feel safe, loved.Â
Tucked away in your subconscious, nothing exists but the sanctuary of them, and when you inevitably feel that tug of awareness coaxing you awake, you sink your fingers in and cling to it for dear life.Â
Just another minute. Another few seconds. Please.
Right now, youâd give anything to wake up and have this be nothing more than a nightmare you can banish.Â
But thereâs no escaping this one. Your dadâs on the living room floor by the couch, hunkered over, pale and sweaty, pressing what was once a clean dish towel to the wound in his stomach. The coffee tableâs been pushed to the side, Heisuke and your mom sat on the chairs Oikawa dragged into its place, ankles zip-tied to the legs, wrists bound, duct tape slapped across both of their mouths. Between the knife Oikawa idly toys with, still wet with blood, the handgun held loosely in Iwaâs palm and your dad slowly bleeding out on the floor, theyâve been compliant.Â
Much like you have, although youâre neither bound nor gagged, sitting in the armchair Iwa ushered you to, arms looped around your knees with the man himself perched against the backrest.
The only one of you making any kind of noise at all is your dad, his voice a slurring mumble, words near intelligible. Heâs begging, you can tell that much. Pleading through gritted teeth for them to let you go, not to hurt you, your mom, Hei.Â
You desperately wanna tell him to save his breath, but you canât even look at him â at any of them â without wanting to throw up.
âDo you still love us, imouto?â
Your eyes track Oikawa as he leans over the two chairs, the edge of his knife carelessly poised above Heisukeâs shoulder. From your periphery you see him flinch and stiffen, the sharp uptick of his breath smothered by duct tape, but you donât dare shift your attention from the brunet smiling genially back at you.
Your heart squeezes, clenched by an invisible fist. Buried deep beneath the guilt and the paralysing dread, a slightly hysterical part of you almost wants to laugh.Â
âDo you think I could ever stop?âÂ
Surprise flashes in his eyes and his grin widens. âYou ran,â he accuses.
âYou ran again this morning,â Iwa adds, sounding far less amused.
âI was scared.â
âOf us?â Iwa slides off the back of the couch, straightening up. In an instant, his handâs wrapped around your throat, the broad pad of his thumb forcing your jaw upwards. âYou think weâd ever fucking hurt you?â he growls, looking genuinely angry.Â
Distantly you register the sound of Heisukeâs muffled indignation, another gasping wheeze from your dad, but all that fades to the background as Iwaâs mouth crashes against yours.
He doesnât kiss you sweetly. Itâs invasive, rough. His hand flexes around your throat, forcing a gasp to drive his tongue between your lips, and you can feel every ounce of possession, of pent up need and frustration as he drags it on despite the awkward angle.Â
When he does break away, eyes darkened and simmering, he holds your gaze, ignoring the pointed throat clearing from the other side of the room. âNever,â he swears, waiting for you to nod before finally relaxing his grip. âGood girl.â To Oikawa, watching you both with a barely constrained hunger, he says, âEnough screwing around. Do it and letâs go.â
Oikawa huffs, rolling his eyes, âFine. Shouldâve known youâd get all impatient after you had a taste.â
âLike youâre not?â
Thereâs not enough air in the room, your heartâs doing somersaults in your chest, your pulse hammering through your veins. Oikawa stares at you, head tilted, the corner of his lip slowly curling up as you start to tremble, shaking your head, tears beading at your lashes, âI guess we could hurry it along.â
âNo, pleaseââÂ
âShh, sweet girl. Itâs okay.â You try to stand up, but Iwa takes a hold of your shoulder and forces you back down. âMe and Iwa, we were gonna give you a choice. Let you pick. If you could kill one of them, weâd let the other two go.â
A strangled sob rips its way free, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.
âHey, hey, itâs alright. Weâre not gonna make you do that,â he comforts, side-stepping your now thrashing brother to make his way over towards you. âCause the thing is, they kept you from us. Lied to you. Manipulated you. Whether they meant to or not, they hurt you. I donât think they deserve that kind of mercy, do you?â
âNo, no, no, please! Please donât, please donât hurt themââ
Abandoning his knife, he drops to a crouch in front of you, âWeâre gonna make it right, and then weâll go home, okay? Weâll take care of it.â
âPlease, Tooru! Iâll do anything!â
Thereâs a kiss pressed to the crown of your head, the cushion behind your back being tugged free. âYou donât need to do anything,â Iwa says, the cold cocking of his gun echoing like a death knell.
 âWe love you. This oneâs on us.â
#yandere haikyuu#yandere oikawa tooru#yandere iwaizumi hajime#yandere oikawa x reader#yandere iwaizumi x reader#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon
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Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader
Genre: smut, both angsty and fluffy, dark themes, positive ending, historical au (maybe like 18/early 19th century Joseon)
Summary: Trapped in a marriage arranged by our families, married to a cold, uncaring man and taking care of a farm in the middle of nowhere, I had sunken to the lowest lows. Aware of my husband's gambling habits and love for brothels that often kept him from home, I'd gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep in a cold, empty bed. But that changed one day, when an uninvited guest made himself quite at home and brought with him warm touches and scorching dreams. Gentleness coming from the one least expected may just be the push into the right direction.
Word count: 25.4k
Warnings: some dark themes, demon Taetae (he's a sweetie though), he's messing with the reader a little tho, he does have some slight yandere vibes, themes of depression and loneliness, infidelity, a shitty husband, some themes and mentions of domestic violence and verbal abuse (at one point the husband grabs her by the hair, throws stuff around the house), mentions of death and murder
NSFW warnings: slightly dubcon-ish (at first he visits her dreams), reader is inexperienced and embarrassed, slight innocence/corruption kink if you squint really hard, wet dreams, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, handjob, unprotected sex (it's joseon :// you be careful out there), some slight breeding kink, half clothed sex
A/N: super late but finally here!! i'm sorry for all the delays, but this just kept getting longer and longer and i had to juggle it between schoolwork, but i hope it is worth the wait! this is actually based on a korean folklore story of prince cheoyong, which i explain in the end notes so i don't spoil anything hehe
I was preparing the food in silence, the only sounds in the room the clanking of my knife on the cutting board and slight bubbling in the pot over the fire. It was winter and so I kept the doors leading to the yard closed, but I still heard the thuds of my husband chopping firewood, the dull thumps of the wood hitting the ground, the swish of his axe in the air.
I was already well used to this, to the silence of this place.
It was a quiet that could only come from unhappiness and spite, the kind that made you feel lonely and desolate, knowing the only other person around rather chose to not speak than engage with you. It was what I had come to know very well in here.
I had found myself married quite abruptly. It was a little over a year ago, when a messenger from the Ryu family of the neighbouring village arrived at our door. My father accepted him, but didnât speak of what the meeting was about, which raised some suspicions between the women of the family. I was the second child of the family and the eldest of the daughters, and way past the age when women of my standing usually married. It felt like we all knew what it would come to.
My unmarried status was a bit of a controversial story around these parts.
I wouldnât call our family exactly disgraced, but we werenât at the full glory the Kangs used to stand at, back in the days of my great great great great-grandfather, who built the family into a considerable fortune, but whose grandson to the familyâs great embarrassment failed the gwageo examinations several times and couldnât secure an official position. The family had tried to bribe their way into the office, but the local official came from a family that had been feuding with ours for a few generations, over something that was no doubt petty and no longer relevant. He basked in the desperation of our family and wished for nothing more than to see them crash and burn, thus if we couldnât secure a position through the examinations, he wouldnât allow any bribery in order to destroy our clan.
The embarrassment continued as neither his son, nor his grandson were able to pass the qwageo and our family was stripped of our title. We had been living on the rapidly thinning fortune, trying to keep some sort of decorum, but feeling the full force of shame the other inhabitants from our area showed towards us. To them, we were pathetic. Just some thirty years ago we were strolling through these streets as if we owned them and now, disgraced and quickly running out of options, here we were â on the same level as them.
My father was able to break the family curse by starting a successful shop with trinkets, toys and other useful little devices, which allowed us to stay afloat money-wise, but cast us further into shame, considering our family had once been part of the yangban class and thus werenât supposed to work. Even if disgraced, rules applied to us, and we were a great embarrassment to those who we used to call friends and allies.
The curse was further broken when father in his quite advanced age managed to pass the gwageo and got a spot in local office. He pushed my younger brothers into studies, as his pride never took this situation lightly. He was brought up to be an aristocrat, but here he was, working his days away like a commoner. In the end, his obsession was fruitful when two of my three brothers also passed their examinations and entered into civil duty, one striving for the office and one for the military service. The middle son, who struggled with his studies, was put in charge of the shop where he excelled.
As such, we were suddenly catapulted back into our previous standing, after several generations of disgrace, after struggling financially and fighting for survival every month, we were back to walking the streets with our chins held high, wrapped from head to toe in silk.
And thatâs where the controversy about my marriage started.
As most young people, I had been promised and engaged to a young boy from a different neighbouring village. Due to the fact that we lost our title, I couldnât strive for marriage withing the yangban class â after all, social standing was inherited after the mother, so I couldnât be more than a concubine since I would curse my child with low social status. But that would be a hit to my fatherâs pride. Therefore he rather engaged me to a son of a lower middle class trader. To them, I was someone of a better status as they had never received a title, and my family would expand their funds.
But then several things happened all almost at once.
We regained our status, thus our marriage in my fatherâs eyes was no longer appropriate, even though finding someone from the yangban who would want me to marry their son would be nigh impossible. He demanded the breaking of the engagement, which was something the society looked down upon, especially since he had sealed the deal years ago. The two families started feuding, the trader now even more eager to secure me for them, and my father with his regained confidence insisting upon marriage to someone âof our classâ. And during this time, the boy fell ill and promptly died.
Since we were engaged, I now was to be considered his widow even though we hadnât had our wedding, but my father insisted that the engagement was broken off and I had no such obligation. The trader of course claimed the complete opposite and demanded we go through with everything as was arranged. The people in the area, even if they followed the drama between the two families closely and listened to gossip religiously, they themselves couldnât tell who was telling the truth. Our engagement had been in place for years, but it was also widely known that my father has changed his mind and demanded for the wedding to be off.
In the eyes of some I was free to marry, but some viewed me as a young widow, a ghost bride, and thus I couldnât find another husband unless I wanted to bring huge shame on the family and reap cosmic consequences. But most simply disliked my father for his underhanded tactics and newfound arrogance.
But this situation had made the question of my marriage impossible to solve. It was already unlikely that a match of my fatherâs expectations would be willing to take me as a first wife and honour me as such, since the yangbans looked down on us heavily, and now I had become tarnished goods in the eyes of potential suitors. My family still tried desperately to pawn me off to someone, but we had turned into a huge joke between the families in the area and I was doomed. Some even started to view me as a cursed woman, touched by black magic, that would bring death to any man who would want to marry me, and that was a final nail in the coffin of my marriage.
But my father wouldnât give up so easily. He still had something that many desired enough to risk a curse on their family â money and power.
Thus, when the messenger had come and father refused to divulge any information about the nature of the meeting, the wives and daughters that had amassed in our house over the years all whispered about a potential engagement. I thought it was possible, but it was probably for one of my younger sisters. I was wrong.
The Ryu family used to be a powerful local aristocracy, but over the last few generations they had fallen considerably. Their disgrace wasnât as openly talked about as ours, even though they were the centre of some mean-spirited jokes, however they had one powerful advantage. They didnât lose their title, just most of their money. While their children still could live their lives telling everyone they were yangbans, they didnât have the money to uphold the lifestyle. Only one of their sons had an office and it wasnât enough to keep the whole extended family afloat. There were rumours of gambling, addiction and unwise spending, which were the most probable factors in their fall.
They knew no one self-respecting would marry their children, who were all pushed into working for their livelihood, and they couldnât marry under their standing lest the children lose their status. Thatâs when they came up with the bright idea to get into talks with our family.
My father didnât waste any time. For him, this was perfect â the right class, family with still some respect left intact, he had enough money, so he didnât mind striking a business deal with the mostly impoverished family and I was used to working, as I had also grown up before our rise. It was just the perfect deal.
From the moment I had first heard about it, it was barely two months before I found myself fully engaged and a week away from a wedding to a man Iâd never met before. He was the second son; he had a house on the foot of the mountain a little further away from the town that was the heart of this area. It would take some travelling, but still remained close enough to keep close ties.
Our wedding ceremony was brief and awkward, a lot of stilted conversation and pretend joy, while my mother and sisters all gathered around me in silent support. I saw their sad and worried eyes, the graveness of their usually more cheerful voices, the barely masked sympathy they looked at me with when I interacted with my stone-faced husband. Marriage was something I had since long made peace with, after all it is what every woman has to face at some point in her life, so I had just squeezed their hands and smiled at them gently, whispered words of assurance and prepared myself for the long journey to my new home.
I had soon found out he was a cold quiet man, rough and unhappy. Most of the time he wouldnât address me with much more than grumbling complaints, cross when I tried to speak to him, when I asked him questions or requested something to be bought, turning away from me and rather spending time tending to his house and to his animals.
I was suddenly confined to a few rooms within an unwelcoming dark house, knitting or sewing or cooking, trying to lose myself in the mindless tasks of caring for a man and a household instead of dwelling on the growing despair in the pit of my stomach. Since then the situation between us has considerably worsened, but I found that the angrier he grew with me, the less he wanted to see me and the more he avoided me, which had begun to bring me relief. I was lonely and I did feel abandoned, but it was better than surviving in the same room as him.
I had gotten used to the air of gloom hanging over this dwelling.
My hand reached over for another carrot and found none, and I startled myself out of reminiscing. The vegetables were cut and the stew was boiling vigorously, so I busied myself with finishing. The sounds of chopping wood have ceased and I could no longer hear any traces of my husbandâs presence.
Curious, I opened the door and peeked outside. The bitter coldness of the air immediately bit into my face and I shuddered, my body shocked by the sudden freezing temperatures when it was so warm from the kitchen fire. Looking over the yard, I didnât see the hulking form of the man Iâd come to live with, but I did see his fresh footprints in the snow leading towards the pig sty. Satisfied I walked back in and closed the door again. Rubbing my hands on my arms and cheeks I hurried back to the pot to warm up.
Soon the sun would go down and night would fall, so he was tending to the pigs for the last time tonight, making sure they had everything, which gave me a little more time to finish up dinner.
Some maybe half hour later the door finally opened roughly and he made his way in wordlessly. There were wet footprints on the floor left behind and a puddle was slowly gathering as melted snow dripped from his coat. I bit my tongue and said nothing, just pulled out the table and started setting it for dinner.
No words were traded and yet the atmosphere chilled considerably, the mood dropping low along with the sun on the horizon. We sat down, we ate in silence. Once he was done, he again got up, put a fresh coat on and was out of the door before I could even wish him a good night.
I used to ask where he was going, but there was no longer any need for that. He spent his evenings and nights in the same place every day, it was a habit that must have started a little before our betrothal. He had found himself some new friends from the town, friends that very happily spent most of their time playing cards, smoking opium, drinking and crawling from brothel to brothel.
Around the time of our wedding, he only joined them a few nights of the week and usually came back in the middle of the night. Back then I saw it as a problem and oftentimes tried to dissuade him from throwing away money this way. His family lost all they had because their young lord lived this exact lifestyle, it was foolish for him to fall down the same trap, but it was a frequent cause of arguments between us and the more I pushed for him to not go out and spend so much money, the more he wanted to. Gradually he went more often, came back later, until I had started waking up to an untouched, unslept in bed.
But I do have to admit that nowadays I saw it more as a relief that he never spent his nights home, even if that meant our already hard-to-come-by money was being thrown out the window like it was nothing. Iâd come to prefer spending time alone.
I cleaned up after dinner and started preparing myself for bed. The ritual of changing clothes, brushing out my hair and smoothing out the bedding on the mats was helping me calm down every evening, but tonight I couldnât find rest for some reason. While I sat on the floor and carefully brushed my hair, the house felt chillier than usual and I kept hearing soft creaks from the outside as if someone was walking around on the porch. Itâs just the wind and the frost, it must be.
Unsettled I lost the battle with myself and went to look out into the yard. The moment I got near the door, suddenly a gust of chilling wind bust the door open and I screamed with shock, covering my naked arms to shield them from the frost. Immediately I jumped towards the door to close it back up, not before looking out into the yard and the forest beyond the walls of our house. There was a full moon hanging over us in the night sky and its light allowed me to see everything with startling ease, casting an eerie silver glow over the murmuring trees. I quickly shut the door and sat back down to help my heart calm down, as it was beating so hard I feared it might tear right out of my ribcage.
After I laid down, it took me a long moment to settle down enough for sleep to start licking at my consciousness. I kept startling myself with every crack and every hum of the wind outside and the fright from before still coursed through my veins, making me shiver and trying to persuade me there was something wicked hiding behind the darkness, lurking in every corner and waiting for an unguarded moment.
But somewhere along the way I did nod off and when I woke up in the morning, I was certain the strong arms that at some point found their way around my waist and pulled me into a warm wide chest were nothing more than a dream. An embarrassing dream that just spoke of my sombre solitude.
In the first months of our marriage, much to my chagrin, Minhwan practiced his marital rights almost nightly. Some nights he would return late from his outings with friends and immediately roll over on me and demand I submit. I did of course, it was expected of me and I was well aware of that. I had been taught that.
But over the course of several months, the frequency of such encounters lessened as I wasnât getting pregnant, until we no longer even spoke to each other and his side of the bed became permanently unoccupied.
Of course, there was a simple, and really the only, reason for my introduction into this family â a child. A son. That was the end-goal of this union and the purpose for my existence in their eyes. After I had failed to fall pregnant despite months of effort, the man I married who already wasnât very kind to me slowly turned into someone crueller, angrier. I could see the frustration taking over him until he completely lost himself in the rage at my uselessness.
He couldnât divorce me, even though my inability to bear him an heir would be a legitimate reason. His family was already teetering on the edge of respectability, and this would make them the laughing stock of the town, since they definitely wouldnât be able to find him another bride. That was because of the other issue. Money. They bought me with what last they had left and if divorced they would not only lose my fatherâs protection and financial help, but also wouldnât be able to scrounge up enough money to buy another woman, if they even found one that was willing.
Minhwan knew that, knew that he couldnât get rid of me, and even though his status would allow him to take a second wife or even a concubine, he couldnât afford them. What little he had he gambled away and spent on girls in the red district; and not much was left for actually running the household and keeping us alive. No self-respecting family would let their daughter enter a family like that and women who were after money and status wouldnât find anything here. And if he had an illegitimate son from a kisaeng, he could hardly bring it here and claim him as an heir, his father would never let him disgrace the bloodline like that.
Thus in his eyes I was worse than useless. I was his doom, a wasted effort that only pushed him further down and he no doubt felt that the best thing I could do for him was to die, so he could remarry. Thatâs why I preferred when he didnât return home for the nights. Living alongside such pure hatred was draining.
When I was sitting by the mirror in the morning, I had just heard him return home. I opened the door a crack and peeked outside, just catching his eye as he was changing into fresher clothes. He held the contact for a few beats of my wild heart and then looked away.
âBreakfast?â he asked gruffly, not even forming a full sentence, while still looking away from me. I followed his gaze and found it stuck to the door leading into kitchen. I sighed quietly, making sure he couldnât hear me lest he gets angry with my insolence.
âI will prepare it in a second,â was my short answer. He wasnât interested in hearing anything more, the less I said the better. Thus my morning routine had to be cut short. Walking past him, I was suddenly bombarded with the smell of smoke, stale alcohol and cheap perfume and powder. The stench was a bit too strong for my queasy morning stomach and I felt it roll a few times, threatening to spill even though it was empty. I subtly covered my nose and busied myself into the kitchen smelling pleasantly of food and spices. This room has become my refuge. I knew he wouldnât overstep here, this was my domain and I felt at least a semblance of power in here.
As distracted as I was, I kept finding my tools in places where I didnât leave them in. I would turn around and suddenly my spoon would be laying two paces further into the room then I remembered leaving it. I told myself I was just tired, I was feeling unnerved by my husbandâs hulking presence on the doorstep of the room, watching me prepare porridge as if fearing Iâd poison him if heâd look away for a moment, I was still flustered by my dreams and nervous from the scare the night before. Surely it was that.
That day I spent mostly inside, sitting by a dying fire trying to mend broken and torn clothes, worn thin by hard labour and years of wear, but I couldnât shake off the feeling of unsettlement that has been plaguing me since yesterdayâs evening.
By the time the night fell and Minhwan left again, I found myself quite anxious to be left alone in the cold house, still feeling like a presence was glued to my side, invisible and watching me, but every time I would look over my shoulder, Iâd find an empty room. Before settling down to sleep, I walked out and checked the courtyard again, and just like the previous evening, it was illuminated by a silver light so brightly it was almost shocking.
I looked to the sky and was stunned by the giant full moon hanging over my head. The night was calm, much calmer then yesterday, no wind shaking the trees and the only sound was the distant cawing of a bird. The white snow reflected the night sky and blinded me, but not enough to not notice the stark contrast of pitch black footsteps disrupting the otherwise clean coat over the ground. I could see their path clearly, leaving the house and disappearing behind the gate, and they filled me with gentle sadness. With my mind off of the ghost of a feeling thatâs been following me the whole day, I made my way back inside to sleep. But I wasnât prepared for what the night had prepared for me.
As soon as I closed my eyes and started drifting off, I felt the mat and bedding shifting as another body laid down next to me. I had fully accepted it, not questioning the arms making their way around my waist and pulling me into a warm hug. It felt as a very clear dream, and I found myself fighting to open my eyes to see, but instead chose to sink into the comfortable atmosphere. There was a hum behind me, but the voice was so deep and pressed so close to me it almost felt like a purr. Non-consciously I answered with my own, drifting with the current. I fooled myself into this, so desperately needing to feel a nice touch that I didnât even want to think about why somewhere deep down I felt alarmed and unsettled at the situation. I buried that away and let the hands run along my sides, basked in the quiet humming somewhere right behind my ear and the warmth it filled me with.
When I woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of a door slamming open and heavy steps and sighs. I was confused for a few moments, subconsciously searching for the comfort I had felt in my sleep, only to be hit with a wave of embarrassment and mortification. I had been dreaming again, imagining inappropriately a strangerâs presence in my bed, hoping for a touch and comfort of manâs hands.
I felt the blush spill over my face just as the door to the bedroom flew open and my husband found my gaze. I saw suspicion in his eyes, most probably not used to seeing me in such a flustered state and questioning what could stand behind it. His eyes shifted subtly over the room as if looking for a hidden lover and in my mind I chuckled. He dragged me away into the woods, and living in the middle of nowhere and not allowed to leave the house without him or an attendant I couldnât afford, how could I have possibly found a lover? No one came here and I went nowhere, the only company I knew was the animals and a warm fire, a needle and a thread and worn books, I couldnât take the same liberties he has been taking for a better part of our marriage.
When Minhwan made sure I was completely alone, just as he left me, he looked back to me and asked for breakfast. That broke the strange silence and I was thrown right back into the routine of my normal days.
Over the following few nights, the dream kept coming back to me, but every time the unknown man in my fantasy went a little further. More often than not I found myself waking up with a start, blushing red from head to toe at the daring hands that kept straying more and more south, embarrassed with myself but also not wanting them to stop before I had the chance to experience whatever my subconscious wanted to grant me.
At first, his hands would only lightly caress along my side, as if trying to console me and help me sleep peacefully, while he hummed along some kind of a lullaby behind me. Everything always felt pleasantly fuzzy and Iâd come to think of him as my dream guardian. My days, in comparison, felt dull and sad, and Iâd found some sort of peace in these dreams.
But soon, the direction started to change. The hands strayed lower onto my thighs, grabbing the flesh lightly and teasingly, or going over my stomach until they were right under where my breasts were. I could feel him pressed closer to me too, his front moulded around my back, shoulders caging me in, the sweet humming slowly turning into something more akin to satisfied purring, causing me to flush red and a rush of excitement to flow through my veins. He always laid behind me and his existence felt like half here half not, but the closer he pushed himself, the more solid his presence was, the warmer I felt in the embrace and the more flustered I woke up.
Clearly, I hadnât been taking proper care of my body and it was screaming for some sort of attention, there was no other explanation for these embarrassing dreams. The shame I felt from such urges surfacing in this manner was overshadowed only by the pressing loneliness, and I kept telling myself that even if I am a married, proper woman, dreams are dreams, and indulging in them a little wouldnât hurt anyone, right? So, I let myself slip into sweet sleep every night, anticipating where my mind would take me.
During the day the little slip ups would continue. I would misplace things, find them in completely different places then Iâd left them before. Sometimes it felt as if I was losing my mind, that the combination of the strange dreams and my sudden scatteredness meant I was finally feeling the effects of the situation Iâd find myself in. But I could swear sometimes I would catch a glimpse of shadow or hear a gust of wind that sounded suspiciously like a laugh when I couldnât find something. It made me feel even more insane.
The moment I realised what was truly happening came a few days later. Even though I was a little unsettled, Iâd grown accustomed to the dreams and I treated them as my little escape, no matter whether I should have been concerned or not. I felt comfort from them and they felt like a dirty secret of mine, something I shouldnât have been doing but it felt so nice I couldnât stop myself. My husband spent all his nights god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who, I could allow myself this little thing.
Usually, I would sleep through the night without a problem and in the morning Iâd be woken up by Minhwan coming back home and barging into the bedroom to ask for a breakfast, but that night for some reason I was shaken out of my sleep somewhere in the dark hours of the early morning. There was some noise outside, something that sounded like a wolf howl, and it was so close I was almost afraid to check the yard in case there was a wild animal there, but I had to go see whether the rabbits and chickens we were keeping were peaceful, just to be sure.
I moved to get out of the bed, but found an arm around my waist pinning me to another body and keeping me in place. My first instinct was to panic, but quickly that was overridden by utter bottomless embarrassment. What if Minhwan has been returning home earlier than I thought and this whole time my mind only substituted some unknown man in the place of my husband as I was falling asleep? Had I been embarrassing myself in front of him the whole time, dreaming about such immoral things and imagining a strangerâs embrace? But he had never touched me like this, and even when we shared a bed at the beginning of our marriage, he never showed the habit of hugging something while sleeping. He always kept himself to his side and never touched me unless completely necessary, even during marital activities. I couldnât imagine him slipping quietly into bed in the middle of the night and embracing me so tenderly.
Complicated emotions flooded me, not knowing what to make of this, but in a moment of weakness I fooled myself into thinking this could maybe be a beginning of a better marriage. That was shattered the moment I reached back to gently pat at his thigh to wake him up to go check on the animals. There was some shuffling, the arm tightened around my mid and suddenly I could feel him nosing at the crook of my neck, laying a single long wet kiss there. I froze and flushed, completely flustered and even more confused by the situation. Then he chuckled and ice cold flooded my veins. I felt myself freeze in place, terror keeping me so still I barely even breathed. That wasnât my husbandâs voice. It was deep and velvety, rich like the dark chocolate Iâd once gotten the chance to try in the city, completely different from Minhwanâs quiet rough commands.
Fear was making it hard to think, but I knew he realised I was awake based on how stiff Iâd gotten, I could hear him quietly breathing and waiting for my reaction. There was certain amusement to him, I didnât know how I felt it, but somehow I just did, something about him gave off excited anticipation and I imagined a sly smirk stretching his lips as he laid there. Then suddenly as if everything caught up to me, I felt my body jumping into motion, tearing his arm away and flying out of the bed. I grabbed the first thing I could see, which were my shoes, and turned around to try my best in defending myself against this stranger thatâs apparently been sneaking into my bed deep into the night.
But the moment my eyes fell on the bed, it was empty. No sign of anyone being there. Frightened out of my mind, I searched the room with my eyes, but it was mostly bare and there wasnât a place that could hide a man. I knew he was bigger than me, Iâd felt him behind me and I was sure he couldnât have been hiding in the sorry state my bedroom was.
For a moment I just stood there and processed before my knees gave up on me and I slid down to the floor, shoes still tightly clutched in my hands, heart beating out of my chest. I wasnât going insane. My mind wasnât playing tricks on me. There was something not human in my bed.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night sitting on the bed leaning on the wall and watching the room. My eyes frantically jumped to any movement, even the tiniest flickers of shadows would make my hands twitch, fingers tightening around my slippers, ready to jump out and fight for my life. But nothing happened. The only sounds I could hear were coming from the wind tearing into the walls of the house and messing with the trees and branches outside, and at some point the room was so still I almost felt as if I fell through the cracks into a painting and was now stuck inside.
Thus I had hours to sit there and stew in my fear and humiliation. Whatever the being was, it must have had nefarious intentions, why else would he sneak in like that and make my dreams turn to such depravity? And here I was, fooling myself into thinking it was okay to feel such cravings and giving into them, anticipating them and with bated breath hoping maybe the next night the dream lover will finally cave and touch me in a way Iâd barely ever felt in my life. Instead I almost gave myself over to a demon, let him have my body and feed off of my energy, damn my soul and prove that I truly was cursed.
I also had a lot of time to think of my next steps. But what could I really do? I could never tell Minhwan and ask for his help, heâd chase me out as an impure woman. Once Iâd tell him the nature of the encounters, Â heâd accuse me of adultery and use it as an opportunity to get rid of me. If I was returned to my father in such a manner, death would be more welcoming than facing his rage and humiliating the family. Telling him would do more harm than good.
I could buy myself talismans and hide them around the house, but there were many, each of them used for a different ailment. Iâd have to visit the village shaman and pay her to exorcise me and our home. Iâd have to explain to her the troubles Iâve been having so she could paint me appropriate protective talismans. It was obvious that the being must have been a demon of lust and once I admitted that, the delicious gossip would no doubt spread and I would be as good as dead.
No, I couldnât tell anyone what was happening. I had to chase him out myself, no matter what it took. Come morning, I was completely exhausted but determined to deal with the situation myself.
When Minhwan barged into the house, pale in complexion and with dark bags under his eyes, I was already preparing the breakfast on the small table, looking similarly dead on my feet. The manâs eyes flitted over me, but he didnât seem to take notice od my state and only grunted, pleased at not having to wait for food or scream for me to leave the bed.
I was so lost in my thoughts I didnât even notice when he left for the yard, didnât even have time to process the usual air of coldness and disinterest he brought with him, as I was too preoccupied thinking of the unwelcome guest. The little tricks with misplacing things must have also been him. I felt rage lick at the edge of my mind, suddenly making itself known in such an intensity I surprised myself. Iâd fully start to believe I was no longer capable of feeling such strong emotions, but here I was. Thinking of million ways to get back at someone whoâs been making a fool of me for his own entertainment for the past weeks.
The next few days were suspiciously uneventful. No more visits, no more âdreamsâ, even all my tools stayed suspiciously still and didnât suddenly appear at places they werenât supposed to be, but I wasnât a fool. I knew he wouldnât give up so easily, not to mention I still couldnât get rid of the feeling of being watched or messed with.
And slowly he had begun giving me subtle hints he was still as present as ever. The books that were put in order, the robe that was waiting for me on by the partition one evening, water refilled in a cup I knew Iâd finished. He suddenly switched to being helpful instead of messing with me, but I knew it was all just entertainment to him.
One of the bigger ones was some days later in the evening. Iâd taken to walking around the veranda checking on the yard and the forest outside of the yard walls. As usual, there were footsteps in the snow, my husband left them there every night when he left, but that evening there was something different about them. I frowned, trying to discern what about them caught my attention. I leaned over the railing to inspect them closer with a sense of foreboding looming over my head like a silent monument. The moment I realised what it was I gasped and dread and anticipation filled me. The footsteps, they didnât lead from the house. They led towards the main entrance.
This must be it, I thought to myself. This must be the night.
When I walked back inside, I lingered around each room a little, watching the surroundings like a hawk and expecting him to jump out at me from every corner and every shadow. But the house was still and silent, not even any sounds from outside creeping in. I slowly walked towards the bedroom and found it empty and in the same state as Iâd left it. I made it through my little nightly ritual without a hitch, but anxious and expecting something to happen any moment. It didnât. Lying down in bed, I continued sharply watching the room, but to no avail. Even though I could basically taste the anticipation in the still air of the room, and knew the demon was most definitely watching me back, he didnât make any move. I fell asleep suddenly, without realising I was even teetering on the edge and when I woke up, I wasnât sure whether the fingers I felt gently carding through my hair just as I succumbed to sleep were my imagination or not.
He didnât return abruptly, instead he slowly built it up, as if testing how far Iâd let this go. Sometimes he would hand me things when cooking or I would be looking for something only to find it gingerly sitting on the table a few hours later, as if suddenly becoming helpful would make me more accepting of whatever his end goal was and I would let him return like nothing happened.
The problem began when he started leaving flowers for me. The gentle quivering of my heart when I saw a beautiful little flower in bloom laying by my bedside was alarming to me, and I didnât want such a confusing feeling to enter my life. But I couldnât help myself.
Without thinking I picked it up and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweetly, almost too ripe, the scent permeating the air and everything around it, making me slightly dizzy. I couldnât remember when was the last time I received a flower like this, maybe when my little brother was still a child and brought it for me from playing in the fields. Our father scolded him then, for running around with other boys instead of studying, but after that whenever either of us saw the little white blossom, we would giggle at each other, sharing smiles like tiny secrets.
I was startled by a tear sliding down my cheek at the memory, the sudden reminiscing of my family, of the one person I was truly close to before he joined the military and went to Hanyang. He was to be married soon too, already at that age when the promises turn to actions and I couldnât wait for the spring to come so I could travel for his wedding. Iâd met the girl before, she was a shy quiet daughter of a smaller aristocratic family who just recently got their title for their merits. I quite liked her, even if I didnât get much time with her before leaving.
He was the one person in our family who had a chance of a happy marriage, I hoped he would. No matter what our father tried to create out of him, he was a sensitive boy, full of mischief and laughs. I so desperately wanted his life to turn out better than mine did. Or that his marriage wouldnât end up like our eldest brotherâs did. He had married first, when we still scrounged for money, I remembered going to his wedding as a young maiden and being swept away in the celebrations, wishing for my own wedding with red blushing cheeks as young girls did. His wife was a practical woman, strong and resolute, but kind. They never had much affections between them, but they had an understanding and their marriage functioned well. I believed my brother respected her as a husband should his wife, but I was wrong.
After our title was restored, our father started pushing my brother to divorce her so he could marry a lady from an aristocratic family, but he couldnât do that. She had given him children and wasnât causing him any troubles, so a divorce wouldnât be allowed. So my brother did the next best thing. He married a woman of a high standing and made her his main wife, pushing the first wife into a secondary position in the family and robbing her children of their inheritance of the title. Since then she became quiet and withdrawn, no longer she was allowed to make any decisions and lived only to serve a man that didnât even look her way anymore, couldnât even explain to his firstborn son that he no longer would inherit his estate and left her to pick up the ashes and survive such disgrace.
It was terrifying when it happened. While she never showed much gentleness, she always smiled at the children and sometimes would sneak me sweets like I was one of her own, even when I was the second oldest child of the family. My heart bled for her, and I started to fear my own marriage, knowing I would never get any aristocratâs respect due to our family history. At that time, I had no idea that what would happen to me would be even worse.
I was startled by a sudden touch on my cheek, a finger wiping away the few stray tears falling down while I sat on the ground and stared at the pretty flower. I gasped and tried to flinch away, but another arm snaked around my waist and I could feel his head leaning on my shoulder. He sat behind me once again, like always, holding me as if he didnât want me to see him.
âShhhhhhâŠ,â came his deep honeyed voice, whispering in such a gentle way that I could feel a wave of goosebumps hitting me, âI didnât know it would make you cry.â Against my better judgment, I could feel my body relaxing into his embrace and a few more tears slipping out. He rocked us from side to side, trying to console me, but it was like my dams broke and soon I was sobbing in his arms, pushing my face into his shoulder and clutching the single blossom in my shaky hands.
I couldnât say when the last time I was held so tenderly by someone was, but it must have been when I was a child still, begging for my motherâs touch any time something happened. I was warm, wrapped into him, and soft. There was a hand in my hair, carding through the locks and caressing me like a lover would. I couldnât stop the stream of tears and emotions and I felt ashamed and scared. I couldnât trust him, and it hurt because no oneâs ever treated me so softly, but I knew. Knew it might be just a way to get closer to me. So I decided to allow myself this just for a moment.
I let him hold me, listened to him hum some kind of a song I didnât recognise, let him lull me into a half-asleep state until I was draped over him, boneless and numb. His hands never strayed like before and he seemed to be genuinely trying to console me. In my mind I scolded myself, believed myself pathetic for falling for such tricks and for being so desperate I would let a demon embrace me just to feel some warmth, but outwardly I didnât let anything show. I was too drained for that.
When I quieted down and just limply hung off of his frame, he must have decided it was time to sleep. He grabbed me and carried me onto the bedding, making sure my head was pushed into his shoulder so I couldnât look at his face. I found it strange, but had no energy to ask him anything, just letting him manoeuvre us around until we were lying just like we used to before I caught him, on our side with him behind me. Sleep came and claimed me suddenly and out of nowhere, but I found myself strangely comfortable.
When I awoke in the morning, the house was silent and the bed was empty, but I wasnât sure how I felt about that. Would I have confronted him and demanded answers? Or did I allow myself to be vulnerable around someone that wished for my downfall and now I found myself inappropriately attached? One thing I knew for sure was that I didnât like thinking about it, and so I got up and went about my day as if nothing had happened. I did find myself wondering what happened to the flower, as it was nowhere to be found, wondering whether it even was real or if I hallucinated it. But after that night, a fresh blossom was waiting by my bedside every evening, leaving me full of complicated confusing emotions. No sight of my demon, though.
âDo you want that?â a gruff voice by my shoulder growled and I barely stopped myself from scowling. The hairpin I had been staring at was suddenly plucked from the table by the eager merchant who understood that question as my husbandâs intention to buy it for me. The older man pushed it towards me and started reciting all the reasons why such a lady like me absolutely had to have such a decoration, hoping to pitch it to a loving husband doting on his wife. Unfortunately, his guess was completely wrong.
âHow much is it?â I asked towards the merchant, who seemed confused by me talking to him while Minhwan stared daggers into my back. His eyes flitted between us, awkward silence taking over for a few seconds before he stuttered out the price, looking at no one in particular. I went to fish out the amount from my purse, but my hand was stopped by another much bigger and rougher one.
âYou donât need it,â Minhwan said resolutely, voice leaving no space for discussion, âDonât waste money on useless things.â I gritted my teeth, minutely losing control of my expression as rage swept through me at his statement, but as soon as I saw my husbandâs eyes narrow in warning, I schooled myself and pulled from the stall.
âOf course,â I answered with false demureness, shooting the merchant an apologetic smile before ducking my head down and following after Minhwan through the market like the picture of the perfect wife. We walked around for some time, from stall to stall, haggling for vegetables and tools, whatever was needed around the house. Minhwan didnât like it when I spoke to the vendors, he had me trailing behind him with a veil on or my head demurely ducked down like an obedient wife, and I was to speak only when he asked me something. Thus I spent most of the time in the market saying only âyes, we need itâ or âno, I think we still have enoughâ. I hated it, but there was nothing that could be done.
The ride back to the house was also incredibly tense. I could still feel my husbandâs rage at my earlier behaviour and knew that the moment we walk back through the gates of our farm, heâll have some things to say. So I sighed and waited for the endless journey to finally reach its final destination.
To my shock and unease, nothing came when we walked back into the house, supplies in hands and struggling to pull the baskets through the door. Silence was all that greeted me. Minhwan helped me pull things into the kitchen and then with one last burning hateful stare he walked across the house. I watched him rummage through a chest, pulling out his only other jungchimak he usually wore when outing with his friends. It was the better one, in deep indigo colour, that made him look like a young affluent yangban. I snickered behind my hand and pretended to sort through the different bags and baskets we brought back.
When Minhwan was done changing, he charged out of the door without even a second glance. I looked out of the kitchen door facing into the yard and watched him until the gate slammed shut behind him, then I returned to the task at hand with a sigh. He didnât do this often, but sometimes when I would make him angry, he just left. Without a word. He likely wouldnât return until late noon tomorrow morning.
Iâd long since given up on trying to stop him when the sun was still high up in the sky, he would still leave, just significantly angrier, which would result in him throwing out more money, so it was better to not get in his way when he wanted to drink, smoke and fuck his frustration away god knows where with the other young men.
I busied myself cleaning around the house and caring for the animals, finishing the work he had left. I found myself gritting my teeth in anger and annoyance as I chopped the firewood, wildly swinging the axe around and taking it out on the logs. When the time to go to sleep came, I was drained, both emotionally and physically, too strung out and tensed to even enjoy my nighttime routine like I usually did.
When I turned to the bed, a single hairpin was lying on the bedding. A beautiful, red, lacquered hairpin with a carving of a flower and a single red gem in the centre. The one Iâd been looking at while we were in the town and almost bought to spite Minhwan. A mix of emotions overtook me, the most prominent one being sudden anger. My heart stuttered under the weight of it, the frustration of the day and the past weeks bursting through me in one big eruption.
Our uninvited guest was keeping himself surprisingly scarce after that night I had cried, but kept bringing me flowers. I accepted them with complicated feelings, but I had convinced myself into believing that since theyâre already here, since they already have been plucked, it would be cruel of me to not accept them. So, night after night I tucked them away so Minhwan could never find them. I didnât even know where the demon was getting them, since we were in the middle of a tough winter, but after all, I should care for them all the more, right?
But the hairpin was a step too far. I did not need to be reminded of my shameful behaviour and of the fact that my husband felt it appropriate to blow all his money away but couldnât spare a single silver to let me buy a hairpin, and definitely not in such a way.
âOkay, come out,â I spoke loudly into the empty room, âWe need to talk. This canât keep happening.â I looked around, but everything stayed silent and still. Then, a soft voice rang out.
âClose your eyes.â
I stood up and crossed my arms defensively, spinning around to try and catch a glimpse of the being.
âWhy?â I asked gruffly, speaking to an empty bedroom like a lunatic, âWhy do you not want me to see you?â
âI canât let you see me until you truly want to,â the answer came, the voice just as melodic and soft as it was before, as it was always, and I involuntarily shuddered.
âI do want to see you, right now,â I replied, ticked off. He just wanted to have the upper hand and not face me head on, I was sure of that. There was silence again, seemingly even the wind outside the door quieting down to listen to us, the room unnaturally still.
âYou want to scold me,â he answered petulantly after a moment, sounding more like a child. I could hear the pout on his lips, the childlike upset of doing something wrong and not understanding why. My resolve softened a little, but I pulled myself together, determined not to let the demon play me like that. I couldnât keep letting him get away with everything.
âSo you know,â I stated, the anger seeping back into my voice, âYou cannot keep doing this.â
âDoing what?â I could hear genuine curiosity in his question, one that filled me with exasperation.
I gestured to the hairpin wildly. âThis!â I exclaimed loudly, âThe leaving of gifts, the creeping around, nothing of it. Leave while Iâm still asking nicely.â Even as the words left my mouth, they felt like an empty threat. What could I possibly do against him? Iâd let him go this far, what could I do to stop him now? But he completely ignored the second part and focused solely on the gifts.
âDo you not like them?â there was slight dejection present in his voice, like he didnât understand why it was such a problem, âI thought you did. You never threw them out.â I cursed my soft heart. I should have never let him get away with bringing me flowers, I shouldnât have let him get to me like that. I should have been resolute and told him to leave right then, not let him coddle me and embrace me when I felt sad.
I hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I found myself not wanting to upset him by saying no, falling victim to his sweet demeanour. Again. I groaned with frustration and hit my forehead with my palm.
âItâs not that I donât like them,â I started a little softer than before, âItâs just embarrassing.â
âWhy?â I groaned again. Good lord, this was going to take a while.
âBecauseâŠâ I stuttered for a moment, the vulnerability of words on my tongue shocking me, âIt feels humiliating. My own husband wouldnât buy it for me and it feels like an insult for a demon to do that.â There was a beat of silence, in which I almost managed to persuade myself that there was never anyone there and I had been talking to myself the whole time, but then he spoke again.
âI didnât mean to humiliate you,â his voice was quiet, contemplative, âI wanted to make you happy.â That shocked me enough to have me stutter over a few breaths, wildly looking around the room with wide eyes. âW-why?â I managed to squeak out, flabbergasted at such admission.
âIt felt like you needed it,â came his simple reply, as if talking about the weather. That statement drained the whole fight out of me, leaving me standing there unsure and confused, filled with shame and wonder at the simplicity of it all.
âWhat?â I whispered, not really looking for an answer, just voicing out my inner turmoil.
âIt felt like you needed it,â he replied a little louder, âYou were always so sad. I didnât like it. You shouldnât be so sad.â It was such a simple statement and yet it pulled down the walls of my heart and made it flutter. I chided myself for being so easy to fool with a few sweet words, but I couldnât stop the lightness taking over my heart, the relief bleeding into my every pore.
Someone saw my suffering, I thought to myself. Someone noticed my pain.
âWhat are you?â I whispered the question into the empty house, but no man stepped out into the light, no shadow moved. He was silent for a moment and then said: âClose your eyes.â And this time I did.
The moment my lids fluttered closed, I could hear slight shuffling of clothing behind me and light footsteps. On instinct I went to turn around, but a hand suddenly tightly covered my eyes, startling me slightly. I jumped a little, pushing myself back straight into his chest, which embarrassingly enough was a position Iâd gotten used to over the past weeks. Then a silken ribbon touched my cheek and the hand moved quickly to tie it over my eyes.
âSo you donât try to cut this meeting short,â he explained lightly, voice full of amusement.
âBut I do want to see you, is it not enough that I no longer wish to scold you?â I asked, confused by the strange rules.
âYou need to desire to see me, truly, with your soul,â he said lowly, voice deepening into the honeyed register I was used to hearing from him and I shuddered lightly, feeling the words trickle down my skin and bite into my very being.
âS-so I can only see you when I want t-to-â I couldnât bring myself to finish that thought, the sinful image burning into my brain making me stutter and blush so fiercely I felt as if I burst into flames. I ducked my head, but his chuckle followed me, melting over me. There was no longer any amusement in his voice, now there was something darker and heavier, threatening to consume me from the inside out.
âSmart girl,â he whispered and I couldnât help the wave of goosebumps that hit my skin when I felt his breath on my ear and neck. The sudden turn from his earlier more innocent voice and words left me confused and flabbergasted, blushing at his newfound confidence. I felt him lean closer into me, nose almost touching the crook of my neck, only to whisper: âTime to sleep.â
Before I could react, he swooped me into his arms and I yelped in surprise, before hiding my face in my hands in embarrassment. He carried me to the bed and very gently laid me there, his hands smoothing down my nightgown and pulling the blanket over us. My face burned, but I stayed silent and let him happily chirp behind me as he pulled me closer to his chest and made himself comfortable.
It felt like years before I fell asleep. I just laid there, feeling his chest move and his breathing deepen until I was sure he was sleeping, but even then I didnât reach back to untie the ribbon. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust his words. Thatâs how I finally got pulled under, with my heart trembling with careful hope.
Come morning, something new happened. When I woke up, his strong arms were still wrapped around me and as soon as I started wiggling in his grip, he woke up with a content groan and a big stretch, like a cat. I blushed again, which seemed to become more of a permanent thing in his presence. I went to call out to him to scold him, when I realised something. I didnât know his name. I havenât asked him for his name all this time.
âGood morning,â came his morning raspy voice, then he burrowed his face somewhere deeper into the bedding and my hair. The ribbon slipped during the night and with my movement it unravelled onto the pillow, making me freeze slightly. I reached for it, playing with it between my fingers a little, before I spoke to him too.
Good morning...â I trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to ask him his name, âd-demon?â I flushed in embarrassment. Truly perfect, why not just call him a pervert if I was going to be like that? Behind me, the man chuckled and wriggled a little, presumably to make himself more comfortable. I couldnât believe I let myself lie with a man like that, but it was better to just not think about it.
âTaehyung would be a bit better, but Iâll take it,â he replied nonchalantly, but then suddenly stiffened. Before I could truly register his alarm, the entrance door slammed open and heavy footsteps made their way into the house. I panicked and flew out of the bed, but when I turned to warn Taehyung, I was met with an empty bed. The other half was even made as if nobody slept there.
Seconds later, the doors to the bedroom slid open and my disgruntled husband peeked in. His hair was a mess, his face taunt and white, bloodshot eyes adorned with dark circles underneath. He looked like death itself, the exhaustion seeping out of him in waves, but he still managed to scowl when he laid eyes on me still in my nightgown. I wondered what time it was, but concentrated on schooling my expression and not showing my flustered state, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. He regarded me with slight suspicion in his eyes, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.
âMake me a breakfast,â was all he said and then he disappeared into the house. I glanced at my little vanity sitting in a corner of the room and noticed the hairpin sitting gingerly right in the middle of it. I swiped it away quickly putting it with the flowers, and started getting ready for the day. But the thoughts of Taehyung and his words and behaviour wouldnât leave me for the rest of the day, plaguing me when I was making breakfast, when I was cleaning up the melted snow Minhwan carried into the house on his shoes and clothes, and embarrassingly enough even when I went to wash up that evening, wondering whether he could see me now too.
The peak of the winter came and went, but the layer of snow stayed thick, blanketed over the world and painting it pure white. I had found myself much fonder of the quietness it brought, how it swallowed all sounds and created a bubble of calm over everything, especially when my husband was gone from the house, which has become more and more frequent. Lately he left earlier and came back later, turning more and more pale with every morning. He didnât speak to me about what he did, he barely ever spoke at all, but the tension in his shoulders and the troubled angry expression that has made itself home on his face told me that he must have gotten himself into some big trouble. I found myself just as anxious, waiting for him to tell me we would be losing it all because he made a bet or let himself be swindled.
Taehyung, during that time, worked hard on trying to distract me, bringing me little gifts and messing about the house trying to help me. Anytime I would come across clothes that have been rearranged or things that have been cleaned up, but put into the wrong places, I would sigh and jokingly glare around the room, but I couldnât stop the fluttering of my heart and the fondness that spread through me at hearing his disembodied giggles.
During these evenings he took to covering my mirror, sitting behind me and brushing my hair for me. We would spend this time in comfortable silence, resting against each other and enjoying the simple companionship. It was such an intimate act, like we were lovers taking care of each other, like husband and wife who love each other, I would find myself flustered and blushing, feeling like it was my wedding night all over again. It was such a strong contrast to how tensed and hostile the silence was when my husband was around, that I often shamefully dreamed and pretended that Taehyung was my spouse, that this was a part of our life and our routine. He would caress my hair, my sides, press soft kisses to my shoulders, play with my hands and my fingers, and when we retired for the night, he hugged me tightly, pressing himself into me and making me feel safe and secure.
The longer this went on, the more torn with fervent longing I was, wishing this was my life and not just pity that a passing demon took on me. I was choked up with emotions, the words âstayâ, âshow yourself to meâ, âlove meâ always on the tip of my tongue, fighting to spill, chest heavy and full like I was about to burst. It hurt. I hurt. I wanted a life I couldnât have; I wanted a man that would take my soul and leave once heâd gotten what he came for, and I hated myself for it and I hated my life.
Taehyung felt this in me, felt this shift from happiness back into tortured silence, I could feel it in his touch, in how gently his hands and fingers regarded me, how reverent his lips were on the skin of my shoulders and neck, I felt it in his voice whispering praise to me. The desperation to make it all better, the frantic beating of his heart against my back because he feared he did something to upset me. No matter how much I wanted to ease him, the words would just not leave my mouth.
And my body, it betrayed me. It lit up with every touch, heat pumping through my veins with every brush of his lips, I could feel it swirling in my lower belly and oftentimes found myself hoping for his daring hands to explore as they had been doing back then before I caught him. But Taehyung stubbornly never strayed from the safe spots, never returned to his previous antics.
One night when he didnât show up, I had a lot of time to think about where this was going and how I was dangerously teetering on the edge of improperness. When I sat alone by the bed and worried for him, called out to him and then promptly spiralled into believing he had grown tired of me, the feelings of pain and despair it filled me with shocked me. I missed him. I missed his touch, his presence, his voice. I didnât want him to leave me. Iâd grown attached to him, to a shadow that spoke to me and treated me with gentleness and kindness.
I wanted to see him. I looked at the ribbon lying on my vanity, the one he used every night to cover my eyes so I couldnât swindle him and peek when he wasnât paying attention. I wanted it gone.
I wanted. I longed. I needed.
Falling asleep that night was a challenge, I couldnât find a comfortable position when I suddenly laid alone once again, too used to a warm comforting body behind me. And when tiredness finally overcame me, he visited me in my dreams, his bold hands exploring places that havenât been tenderly touched before; drawing out sighs out of me, body trembling with unknown pleasure as his fingers dipped between my legs and leisurely moved in little circles over the bundle of nerves. My dream self was moaning and writhing in his arms, begging for him to never stop as the pleasure mounted until it burst out in a bolt of pure ecstasy. I jolted awake, breathing heavily and still shaking from the intense sensations. Startled I realised there was wetness coating my intimate parts and the top of my thighs, the sticky feeling making me blush in embarrassment. My whole body seemed to be tingling from this experience and I couldnât calm myself down.
âTaehyung?â I called out carefully, checking that he wasnât around to witness this. When no answer came and the man himself didnât come out and shown himself, I quickly ran to the vanity to grab the first cloth I found and cleaned myself. My shaky hands couldnât hold onto anything properly and I couldnât get my breathing back under control, the experience leaving me full of confusing feelings, longing filled with arousal mixing with shame until I my head was spinning and my chest hurt. After that, I didnât fall asleep again, instead I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my own heart.
The only thing that saved me from getting suspicious stares from my husband was that he himself barely looked at me. But it felt different from his usual coldness, he looked haunted and worried, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even realise anyone else was present. It made me anxious. Whatever heâd gotten himself into, it seemed bad and if it came to it, heâd drag me down with him. For the first time in so long I found myself wishing heâd just talk to me, tell me what was happening so I could stop drowning myself in worry. But I knew that if I had come to him and asked him, he would get angry. So I waited for my life to end with bated breath.
Taehyung returned after two days and acted as if he was never gone, as if he didnât suddenly disappear without a word and left me spinning, thinking heâd never return. When I heard his voice ring out it the empty house for the first time in so long, I couldnât stop the tears of relief and he spent the whole evening and night holding me and consoling me, whispering into my ear how heâd never leave again.
More than ever I realised the burning desire coursing through my veins whenever he touched me. I wanted him, like wife should want a husband, and it was getting harder to ignore the way my body responded to him. I wasnât sure if Taehyung was aware of my plight, if he registered how I seemed to stiffen anytime he pushed me closer to himself, how I held my breath when his arms snaked around my waist, how I shuddered when his hands slipped through my hair when he tied the ribbon over my eyes. I didnât know if he noticed, but if he did, he didnât say or do anything. Sometimes he would get closer to me, nose at my neck or play with my ear and then he would suddenly stop, as if he remembered himself, and pull away. And I wanted to scream at him. To not go. To do more.
And the more the situation went south in my marriage, the more I realised that my heart has long since been stolen by a being I havenât even seen, but whose actions spoke louder than thousand words.
And so I decided to take the situation into my own hands. Or, well, to put it into Taehyungâs hands.
Some nights I would dream about him, even when he laid behind me I just wouldnât have enough. And in those dreams, he would do the things I desired from him. It felt like my dirty little secret, enjoying him in such way in the privacy of my own mind, but knowing he was there. That he could be witnessing me be improper, could be witnessing my needs resurfacing in this manner. He never showed it, but sometimes I wondered if he knew, if he was waiting to make a move. And it excited me even more. The tension kept thickening, and I boiled, I boiled until one day I just⊠burst.
I had woken up in the middle of the night, woken up by my own dream as usual, hot and breathless, but just short of release, pent up and frustrated and needy. Taehyung behind me stirred, but his breathing stayed deep and stable, arms minutely tightening before he relaxed again. I felt my wetness seeping down my thighs, squeezing them together on instinct to chase the pulsing and throbbing there, choking out a little whimper and squirming in my place.
That seemed to shake Taehyung out of his sleep, I could hear the shuffling of his clothes, his hand flexing on my belly. He raised his head and murmured something, but I couldnât hear through the rushing of blood in my ears. I was so aroused my head was almost spinning, my mind zeroing only on getting back to the pleasure I had been feeling. I squirmed in his arms again and whined.
âWhatâs going on? Whatâs happening?â came his quiet raspy voice by my ear and I could feel goosebumps breaking out over my arms. Without saying anything I reached for one of his hands and pulled it lower, until it laid over my thigh. There was silence behind me and neither of us moved for a moment.
âWhat?â he whispered again, confusion lacing his voice as he started caressing my thigh, thinking I just needed comfort, âDid you have a nightmare?â I shook my head, frustrated at myself for not being able to get the words out of my mouth, so instead I grabbed his hand again and this time I gently laid it over the very top of my thighs, the tips of his fingers just grazing my intimate area. Taehyung froze for a moment, and I held my breath, fearing his reaction.
But then he released a long breath and his hand moved, grabbing onto my nightgown and slowly pulling it up over my legs. âAre you being naughty?â he asked me playfully and I trembled with anticipation, the searing heat seemingly reaching a crescendo with the promise of his touch. The moment I felt him gently caressing up the naked skin of my thigh, I whimpered again and immediately lifted my leg to grant him access to where I wanted him the most.
Behind me, there was a chuckle, so deep and rumbly I felt it in my bones, satisfied and overjoyed with my eagerness. Taehyung nosed up my shoulder, until I could feel him laying searing wet kisses into the crook of my neck. His hand suddenly shot up back to my knee, grabbing it so he could hook it over his legs and keep me spread. I blushed, but another gush of wetness seeped onto the skin of my thighs at the prospect this finally happening.
âWant to have your pretty little cunt played with, hmm?â Taehyung whispered into my hair, the smirk evident in the smugness of his voice. This was his element, and I ducked my head into my arms, embarrassed by the words and the actions, embarrassed by my body screaming for him. He didnât seem to need an answer, pleased with my shyness and with how my body responded for me, arching into his touch and begging for more. So he indulged, both himself and me.
His fingers descended between my legs suddenly, shocking a moan out of me as they glided through the wet folds until they settled over the little bundle of nerves. He touched me teasingly, circling it lightly, tapping and pressing on it and then sliding his fingers down to play with my entrance, as if testing how much I would be able to take.
I trembled whole, overflowing with relief, pleasure and burning need for more, spilling out of me on sighs and whimpers. I lost the control of my body as it swayed and arched, pushing into his elusive playful fingers. When my whines took on a more desperate tone, Taehyung finally seemed to be satisfied enough to stop teasing. He started playing me masterfully, fingers drawing tight quick circles on my clit, making me choke on my spit, brain not comprehending the sudden onslaught of sensations.
I found myself hurling towards that edge of ecstasy quicker than Iâve experienced before, my whole body singing under his touch, thrumming with the fulfilment of all the desires that had been piling up over the past weeks.
âLet go whenever you need to, donât be afraid,â Taehyung whispered to me, voice low and aroused, and I arched with a silent scream as the release overtook me, bursting through my body in a single white flash. Taehyung carried me through it, fingers slowing down but never stopping, little quiet groans leaving him at seeing me blissed out. When the pleasure ebbed away gradually, I pushed his hand away with a quiet whine, feeling too much all at once.
He led me down from the high gently, hands running over my body, over my sides, his voice murmuring loving words into my ear, telling me how lovely I was, how well I did for him. I soaked it all up, preened under his care and attention and loved every moment of it, the fear and insecurity about his intentions taking the backseat for a few calming moments. My body thrummed with the after-shocks of my climax, and I pleasantly floated on the feelings of relief and release.
I was still catching up to my brain, when the words âI want to see youâ tumbled out of my mouth. Taehyungâs hand stopped for a moment and then grabbed onto my arm gently. He hummed, non-committally, fingers suddenly teasing again as he lightly dragged them on my arm up and down.
âDo you really?â he whispered sensually, almost purring, and I gasped at the sensation. Before I could reply, he was suddenly gone. I heard him moving around in the room, the sound of his steps, his stable breathing and the light clanking of items as he moved them. I had no idea what he was doing, but when he was satisfied, he returned to me. Taehyung leaned down to me and grasped my arm, pulling me up to stand.
âGet on your feet, darling,â he told me sweetly, the sudden nickname making me blush as if we werenât just wrapped in each other in such sinful ways. I stood, knees still a little shaky, but managed to hold my weight. I was a little achy, but it was a pleasant and boneless feeling, as if everything had been drained away and all that was left were soft sweet clouds.
Taehyungâs hands left me, and I could hear him stepping away, his heels hitting the wooden floor heavily. I held my breath in anticipation, my hands trembling, my body still confused from the screaming pleasure it was put through just moments ago.
Then, he spoke.
âYou can pull the ribbon down.â His voice was smooth, kind and happy. My arms moved as if they had a mind of their own, lifting up to my head to grasp at the ends of the ribbon to pull. When it fell away, at first I was left blinded by the light for a moment. I blinked; eyes hurt from getting flashed with white after so long in the dark. I hurriedly wiped away the few stray tears and gently pressed on my eyelids to alleviate the pressure. When I opened them again, he stood in front of me.
He was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. I gasped as I took him in, the softness of him.
He had long black hair, half done up into a bun at the back of his head. He was dressed in a black cheollik with red hems and pulled together by a silk red string adorned with dark grey jade, and his underclothes were also in black. He was barefoot, standing on my cold wooden bedroom floor like he didnât feel the chill at all, when I already started shivering in my thin night robes. My eyes shot back to his face. He was ethereally pretty, all sharp edges but still looking so soft and lovely it stole my breath away. Even though his eyes were shockingly blue, I could see the kindness in them, unlike his mouth that was pulled into a mischievous smirk. Just I as I imagined he so often had.
I could see he started nervously fiddling with his sleeves, face flashing with panic and unsureness. He stepped from foot to foot, looking at the ground bashfully, before looking back up at me with wide round eyes full of pure-hearted earnestness.
âWhat do you think?â he asked, as if I was looking at fruit at the market. He squirmed in his place again and I couldnât bare to let him believe that I didnât think he was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. In a few quick strides I crossed the room to him and threw myself into his arms. He caught me, as always, and I had begun believing he always would, and pressed me closer into him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled him down by his neck and pressed our lips together.
Taehyung caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around me and taking charge, kissing me like a man starved, passionate and hungry and all-consuming, filling my head and my heart with him and only him. I dreaded my husbandâs return, because it would mean my little fantasy dream life would dissolve and Taehyung would have to disappear again, but for now I focused on his mouth claiming mine with such fervour it left me breathless.
Seeing Taehyung made things both easier and more difficult. Nothing much changed between us, only now I saw him messing with my things and âhelping outâ around the house. I heard his endless giggles and sometimes would catch a glimpse of his figure before he disappeared into a different part of the house, and I always trailed behind him and looked for whatever it was he misplaced or swapped.
I found that even though he was visible to me most of the time, he still didnât talk much, preferring to sit by me and watch me with fond eyes. He would silently take heavy things from my hands and carry them for me, only sending a playful grin my way, or push me away from the cutting board to prepare the ingredients himself with a simple quiet âlet me helpâ. I liked it. Taehyung filled the space with his presence, with kind eyes and gentle laughs and comfortableness I havenât felt with anyone else. Sometimes laughs would just bubble out of my throat at his antics or at his expressions and I stopped, surprised at my own ability to laugh. I was happy. I felt content.
I loved him, and I knew that. I wanted my life to be like this from now on until the end of time. More and more often I found myself thinking how married life wouldnât be that bad if my husband was Taehyung, and I blushed at those thoughts, but couldnât fully fight them away. I imagined him chopping the firewood in the yard (he already did that for me after he saw me with an axe one), taking care of the animals (it wasnât unusual for him to feed the hens and the pigs after sundown, since Minhwan was already long gone around then) and then coming home to happily eat supper I worked so hard on (he loved my cooking and never failed to compliment me). I loved watching him walking around the farm as if it was him who owned it, him who married me. Him who loved me.
And during the nights⊠Taehyung was more than happy to dote on me, naughty hands suddenly insatiable once I showed interest, bringing me to the peak of pleasure every morning, wandering around my curves and gently squeezing and loving on every inch he could reach. I melted in his hands, my brain suddenly interested only in how to get him to please me again. But he never moved it further, no matter how much I gently probed, tried to touch him back or insinuated that I would like to do more, he always grasped my hands and pulled me into a tight hug until we ended up falling asleep.
I was confused. I wasnât a virgin. I knew how it worked between men and women and I trusted him with my body and my pleasure, and I wanted to return it too, learn how to please him too, but he didnât seem to want that to happen. He would always give me this unsure smile and then hold me all the tighter and I didnât want to push him.
But while I found my domestic bliss in Taehyungâs presence, it was harshly brought down every time my husband returned home. Even though heâd become strangely withdrawn, he always seemed to fill the house with gloom and uncomfortable tension, choking every spare inch in despair. I was dancing on eggshells around him, trying my hardest not to draw his attention lest he redirects his ire to me.
This explosiveness was also new. Heâd been angry at me before, but never like this, never with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands, spewing poison until I was trembling with fear and shame, and then walking out. He would scream at me for the food not being warm, about spilling something on the floor, about not cleaning proficiently enough, and I begun to dread his returns, because he would always smell of alcohol, opium and other vices, and immediately find something to vent on, only to become silent and absent the moment after.
I could see on Taehyung he was worried for me. I wasnât a fool, I knew he was present and heard everything, I could feel it in his sad tender eyes, in his loving caresses and the little gifts he would leave me. I wanted to assure him that everything was okay, that this was just my life and I had to deal with that, that him being around the house was already making a dreadful reality all the more bearable, but sometimes he just zoned out and I saw the cogs turning in his head, trying to come up with a way to somehow deal with this. But there was nothing that could be done.
While Minhwan spiralled and came home looking worse and worse every day, Taehyung tried his best to raise me up and make me feel better. And I couldnât be more grateful for that.
One afternoon we were enjoying a particular sunny day, the door to the kitchen cracked open to let in the crisp freezing air, but I couldnât feel the chill, not with Taehyung plastered to my back. He hung off of me, hugging me and whining playfully, his hands ever so often straying to my thighs or breasts, trying to rile me up while I made broth. I would always slap them away, but I couldnât hide the blush on my cheeks or the way my body started responding to him and demanding his attention lower.
I was playing with the idea of letting him pleasure me right in the kitchen in the middle of the day, when Taehyung behind me stiffened, arms tightening around me. At first I didnât register it, but when the sound of snow crunching under someoneâs shoes reached my ears, I panicked. Throwing the wooden spoon away I turned and pushed Taehyung away from me.
âQuick, disappear! Minhwan must have returned!â I whispered urgently, almost sobbing with frustration when the dark-haired man just continued standing there as we both listened to the footsteps getting closer. He was looking out the door, his face curious but impassive, as if he didnât realise the impending doom.
âTaehyung!â I cried out desperately, pushing him away just as the doors slammed opened. I froze and turned to the door, while Taehyungâs arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into his chest. At first I recognised the gesture as protective, but then I realised it was too casual.
I forced myself to see through the panic and registered that in the door stood a complete stranger. He regarded us both with a bored expression, his eyes sliding down my panicked frozen face and then skipping to Taehyung, sneering lightly in a pretend angry manner.
âSo this is where you spend your days, I havenât seen you in forever,â he grumbled a touch whinily and made himself comfortable on one of the seating pillows in the corner. He had elegant gestures and moved about in a graceful manner, he was also dressed in expensive clothes, showing off to everyone his status as a son of a wealthy yangban family. His face was sharp and impassive, but I could see a strange spark of something in his feline eyes.
âHyung,â Taehyung said cutely and pulled me towards the man in expensive robes, âthis is Y/N.â I stared dumbly between the two men, flabbergasted at the situation I had suddenly found myself in. Hyung? Was this another demon?
The man in question nodded towards me, showing polite interest. He looked intimidating, but whenever his eyes jumped to Taehyung, there was softness in them, and his face would suddenly relax and look more human and boyish.
âThis is one of my hyungs,â Taehyung said towards me and then leaned closer until he could whisper into my ear: âHeâs a tiger spirit.â I gasped lightly and looked at the man. He gave me a goofy toothy grin, his posture loosening as he made himself more comfortable. I slipped into the hostess mode and started offering drinks and food and he indulged happily, even getting Taehyung to take a glass with him. I listened to their gentle teasing for a while, content with watching him be so happy and carefree.
âSo if one wants to see your face around these parts, they have to come here, huh?â said the tiger with a little smirk and winked towards me. I giggled and added: âAs long as my husband isnât home.â I immediately blushed, but the feelings of shame I used to feel over this have ebbed away and now I could only feel a little twinge of it as a phantom pain, before I put it away and focused on the men in my presence.
âOh, I know your husband very well,â the man said, his face turning into a mysterious sharp hungry grin, âHe isnât home very often.â Taehyung tensed behind me, and I glanced at him, before throwing a confused smile at the visitor.
âWhat do you mean you know my husband well?â I asked, ignoring the way Taehyungâs hands tightened around me. I refused to turn his way, instead focusing my all attention at the dangerous being sat in front of us.
âHe plays cards out of his league,â the man stated, eyes glinting with some feral contentment, âHe lost a lot of money to a lot of people. An especially big sum to a certain very dangerous man that likes to prowl around those parlours.â It felt as if I was thrown into a freezing water, the panic seizing me at this information. I had known, to a certain extent, that he must have gotten himself into something, but losing in cards and owing money to someone dangerous, that would absolutely destroy my life alongside his. Distressed, I looked to Taehyung, who immediately pushed his hand into my hair in an attempt to comfort me.
âHyung, stop that,â he scolded the man gently, âStop scaring her.â I blinked at Taehyung owlishly.
âYou knew?â I whispered the question, my heart aching when the dark-haired man looked away with guilt etched into his handsome face.
âI told him,â the older man piped up again, gently inserting himself back into the conversation he himself started, âI happen to have an insight into the situation. Donât fear, dear, this is between your husband and the forces he messed with.â The vague statement did nothing to ease my anxiety and my eyes flitted between the two men again, but I chose to not say anything anymore. They shared a resolute look, full of determination, and then moved on from the topic.
Mr. Min, as I finally learnt his name, stayed for a better part of the afternoon, only departing once the night fell with only the moon lighting his way. His sharp eyes seemed to glow in the dark and once again I was reminded that he was a spirit of the mountain. I snickered gently at that. Look at me, the cursed widow dining with a demon and a tiger. If the old ladies in my home village knew that, they would lose their minds.
Taehyung wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we watched his friend go, looking at my amusement fondly, but the way his hand squeezed me I could tell he was worried about the conversation we had. I looked at him, truly looked at him, and contemplated whether to bring it up again.
He sensed it, his face turning a little guilty and sheepish again, before turning to me, grabbing both of my shoulders and saying: âY/N, do you trust me?â Did I? Of course I did. I loved him, I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone. He never failed me, never gave me a reason not to trust him. So I nodded firmly.
âThen know that it will be taken care of,â he stated, voice gentle and kind, âI wouldnât let this impact you.â I nodded again, looking at him fondly before caving in and seeking the warmth of his embrace. He held me tightly, then and through the night, whispering words of love. I trusted them.
I should have known that this would smudge lines, that me living my little fantasy with Taehyung and him living in the house fully visible would lead to us being careless and slipping. But still, when it happened, I was sorely unprepared for the whirlwind it started.
We depended too much on the belief that Minhwan wouldnât return home early. He didnât, in the past weeks. Every morning, I would watch the sun climb pretty high up on the sky before the door slammed open and he trudged in wordlessly demanding food. Taehyung spent the mornings lazily spread out in the bed, stretching like an over-sized cat, grinning at me lazily and watching me get ready for the day. And usually I would be woken up by his gentle hands or kisses, or by the sun shining through to my face, or the cold would make me turn and snuggle deeper into my loverâs arms.
So when I got woken up by a scream, I was shocked and confused to my core. I jerked up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and looking for the source of the commotion, heart beating out of my chest and throat tight. It was a cry of rage, a manâs ire bursting through the quiet comfortable space of early morning.
There was a flash of movement and then suddenly I was being painfully pulled out of the bed by my upper arm. I cried out, legs fighting to get into working order and stop the pain from the uncomfortable angle. Suddenly I was face to face with a seething Minhwan, his face red and bloated, twisted into a grimace of pure primal rage. He grabbed onto both of my shoulders, nails digging into my skin until I feared he would draw blood, shaking me violently.
He screamed something, but I was too tired and shocked to fully comprehend what has happened. Panic started pumping through my veins, my breathing getting out of my control as I choked on the instinctual fear of being met with a man in such an emotional state. He shook me again and I got dizzy. Behind me the bed was empty, but very obviously slept in.
 As if wading through a thick fog, I finally realised he must have seen Taehyung in the bed and my knees buckled. He let me fall, let me knock painfully into the wooden floor as he paced around the door. Thoughts going a mile a minute I scrambled to try and come up with something, with anything instead of just sitting there staring dumbly. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, slipping slowly down as my mouth opened and closed. My head hurt, my chest was so tight I could barely breathe and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might just tear right out of my body. I looked at my shaking hands and released a few strained breaths.
âAre you even listening to me?!â Minhwan was suddenly screaming right into my face and I flinched. It was as if a filter lifted off of the world and the sound was suddenly getting to me fully, the thumping of his feet on the floor, his ragged breathing, his enraged mumblings. I stared at him blankly for a moment and in a split second decided to play it the only way I could.
âW-what happened?â I asked quietly, still looking at him with wide confused eyes, movements sluggish. I put a hand to my head, shaking it from side to side. At least I didnât have to pretend I had a headache.
Minhwan stopped pacing and regarded me with suspicion. Come on, I prayed to myself, I know you must have seen him disappear in front of your eyes. He watched me for a moment, and I made sure to look as disoriented as I could, blinking blearily around and pulling a blanket closer over my rapidly cooling body. The seconds ticked away as he just looked around the room, watched the bed, the doors, as if measuring whether the man could have gotten away around him. He wasnât saying anything for the longest time, and I felt like I was losing my mind, fearing any moment heâll decide I was a liar and do god knows what in a fit of rage, but then he looked at me again with eyes filled with more confusion and fear than rage.
âDo you really not know?â he inquired, and his voice was grating to me, rough from speaking and drinking the whole night. I nodded slowly and then asked again: âWhat happened? Why were you screaming?â His face filled with determination, and he wordlessly walked out of the room. I scrambled to follow after him.
âWhere are you going? Whatâs going on?â I hammered him, looking for a confirmation that I was safe, at least for the moment, but he just silently started fastening his hat back on. Finally, right before walking back out of the door, he turned to me and said: âIâm getting the exorcist.â
The next few hours I spent sitting in the house in panicked silence, wondering what my fate would be beyond this day. What would the shamaness say? How will this go? Do I have to pretend to get exorcised? I tried calling out to Taehyung, but he didnât respond once. I bit my nails and paced around the house, counting every second ticking by as if waiting for execution.
By the time the door slid open again and stone-faced Minhwan stepped in, my nerves were completely frayed, and I could barely support my own weight on my shaking knees. My head snapped into the direction of the noise, and I saw a man and a woman step inside. The moment their eyes landed on me, they bowed slightly to me, but said nothing and instead followed my husband through the house into the bedroom. I hurriedly trailed after them, shaky hands with nails bitten almost bloody grasping onto my skirt to ground myself at least a little bit.
When I stepped into the room, Minhwan was gesturing to the bed, still unmade as I was too panicked to clean, and explaining what had happened.
âI walked in and saw four feet instead of two,â he said darkly, anger shining through to the surface again, âThey were clearly manâs feet. I threw a shoe at him and started screaming, but then he was just gone. He disappeared into thin air. When she woke up, she was disoriented and had no idea what was going on.â I listened to him with a lump in my throat and when they all turned to look at me standing in the door, my knees almost buckled. I hoped that my nervousness would be interpreted as my unawareness, but when the womanâs eyes bore into me with a startling intensity, I couldnât help but flinch and look down.
She came over to me and an expectant silence fell over the room, all of us collectively holding our breath and waiting for her judgement. She grabbed my chin, not roughly but definitely not gently, and moved my head so that I was looking at her. Her eyes flitted across my face, in search of something. I wasnât sure what she was looking for, but I wondered how I must have looked to her. Did I look guilty? Did I look sick? What did she see?
She examined me for a moment and then let me go and stepped back to the man. She looked at him and nodded.
âIt is a demon of sickness,â the man spoke, âHe was draining your wifeâs life energy, eventually saddling her with plague or similar illness. It is good you caught him before he did irreparable damage to her.â I touched my own face, wondering how bad I looked for her to come to the conclusion I was getting drained in such a way, but felt immense relief. Before I caught myself, I swayed, the feelings of anxiety crashing onto me, leaving my body too weak to stay upright. I crashed into the door and barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor full force. The woman rushed to me and pulled me up, holding onto my arm and helping me stand in a manner she must have believed was comforting.
âDonât worry, darling, he will not get you,â she whispered in a raspy old voice, âWe will take care of this.â I mumbled something out, an insincere thanks, and propped myself up by the door. Instinctively I looked to Minhwan and found him already looking at, eyes coldly assessing me. He was scaring me, I had no idea where I stood with him and what was going through his mind, but I hoped this would buy me some time. I looked back to the floor and started smoothing out my skirts with shaky hands.
âWe will get the supplies weâll need and return tomorrow with the dawn,â the man spoke again, looking mainly to Minhwan, âFor tonight, hang garlic and onion around the house. The foul smell will keep the demons away. I will draw you a talisman for your door and main gate, plaster it on the wood and keep it there until we come.â My husband curtly nodded.
The pair started moving towards the door to leave and Minhwan followed them out. I took the time to slide down to the door. I was trying to keep myself calm, but the stressed tears came anyway, rolling down my cheeks and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Once Minhwan returned, I was silently sobbing on the floor, too overwhelmed by everything thatâs happened in these few hours.
Minhwan regarded me silently and then moved to the main room, sat by the fireplace and didnât speak again. I sat there, filled with dread, and waited. Waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to fly off of his handle and do something, but the house was eerily silent. In the end I pulled myself together and moved about my day as if nothing was happening, as if Minhwan wasnât sitting in the other room counting minutes before sun went down. The uncomfortable atmosphere stretched over us like a suffocating blanket and even though I went with the motions, cooked food and served it, I wasnât even interested in eating, and neither seemed to be Minhwan.
With dark setting over the dwelling, the moon shining over the snow and creating a silver glow over everything, I found myself anxiously glancing at my husband to see whether he would leave, but he stayed firmly sat. I didnât know what to do. I felt like I had to have a talk with Taehyung, confide in him and see what he thinks we should do. I desperately craved his comfort and calming presence, I needed him to hold me and kiss me and whisper about all the things he loved, I needed him to whisk me away into the woods and keep me away from this life I had found myself in.
As I paced around the bedroom nervously, I realised that. I wanted to leave with him. I wanted to flee into his reality and leave my own behind. I needed to talk to Taehyung soon.
The door slid open, and I flinched and instinctively moved a few steps further into the room. Minhwan looked at me, his eyes empty and dark, and then moved to the corner of the room, sitting down and staring soullessly at me.
âArenât you going to get ready for bed?â came his gruff voice when I stood there frozen for too long, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I could hear a certain accusation in it and my heart jumped into my throat. Without saying anything, I mechanically moved to my vanity and started brushing my hair while keeping an eye on my husbandâs dark form slouched in the corner. His eyes never left me, slowly with every second ticking by filling with more and more pure hatred.
The room felt as if it was freezing, the air so heavy with tension I could taste it on my tongue. I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, my clammy hands squeezing around the brush.
âI feel quite stupid now, you see,â Minhwan started suddenly, his cold voice startling me. I turned around to look at him, trying to keep my expression neutral but knowing I probably looked truly scared and guilty. He stared at me expectantly, but when I failed to say anything, he continued.
âI saw it,â he simply stated, âthe hairpin.â It felt as if time stopped, the blood freezing in my veins with one simple word. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but I ultimately failed to say anything. He knew I wouldnât be able to go back to the market to buy it myself, there was nothing I could say to excuse that.
âI saw how certain mornings you seemed to be flustered,â he continued quietly, âhow you changed, I saw the flowers you tried to hide.â He chuckled darkly, mirthlessly, but stayed sprawled out in the corner, watching me. I sat frozen in front of my vanity, brush still in hand, thoughts going a mile a minute.
âI ignored it, of course,â Minhwan carried on, seemingly okay with being the only one to talk, âI know how hard it is to get here and thereâs no one close enough to sneak here like this. But when I went to town for the shamaness, I started remembering these moments. I saw the hairpin in my mind, as clear as day. And it made sense. Whatever he is, you knew about him.â I gulped, but said nothing, staring at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movements and I looked up startled. Minhwan was now moving towards me, slow and calculated, and dread filled me.
I looked up at him and couldnât help a few stray tears escaping me. Minhwan watched me coldly, but it was so different than what I was used to from him and it terrified me. This was a different kind of rage, the kind that made people unpredictable, the kind when you know the person is so angry theyâve become calm.
He slowly threaded his hand into my hair, gripping it tightly until I could feel slight pain. He angled my head, watching the tears slide down my face with a scowl. Then he pushed my head away and released my hair, sending me crashing into the vanity. I caught myself on my hands, but the impact still hurt and I whimpered through the tears.
I heard Minhwan moving about the room, thrashing the chest I kept some of my belongings in, tearing through my fine robes and sending little reminders and keepsakes flying through the room and crashing into the floor and the walls. With every crash I flinched again and again, shrinking into myself and slowly slinking into the corner behind my vanity.
Minhwan finally got to what he was looking for â the dried flowers and other little gifts Taehyung has been bringing me. Whatever he got his hands on, he destroyed, tearing the flowers apart or breaking things by throwing them on the floor. I watched him helplessly, now fully sobbing as I witnessed my life being torn apart.
Minhwan paid me no mind, his eyes catching onto something in the chest. He bent over to pull out the object, and I eyed him carefully before I realised what it was. The hairpin. He glanced over at me and when he saw my eyes trained to it, he smirked with such malice it made shiver. He gripped it with both hands and then with a quick gesture broke it in half. Before I could stop myself, I cried out with my hands outstretched going to grab it, grab him, just do anything to stop it from happening, but I couldnât. Minhwan threw the broken pin on the floor, and I watched the little gem break away and fall through the tiles.
Minhwan walked over to me again and crouched down so he could look at me closer.
âDid he get you pregnant?â he suddenly asked, and it was such an unexpected question it shocked me into silence as I just stared at him dumbly. Then I just slowly shook my head. Minhwanâs face stayed impassive. He just stared at me until I started squirming in my place, my skin crawling with fear and nervousness.
Then he just got up and walked out.
I stayed put, not daring to move from my place, but I strained my ears to hear whatever he was doing. He walked around the main room for a moment and then his footsteps seemed to get further away until I heard the door slide open, slide shut and then silence. I held my breath, waiting for a moment before I allowed myself to decompress, immediately slumping down onto the ground. With the stress rapidly draining from my body, I found myself a shaking crying mess. I crawled over to the chest and grabbed onto whatever destroyed piece of memory I could, cradling them to my chest and desperately hoping that I could mend it, that it would all go away. That Iâd wake up in Taehyungâs arms and heâd console me and tell me it was all a bad dream.
I didnât sleep that night. And Minhwan didnât return in the morning. The shamaness and her husband came knocking with the dawn and I sat on the porch and expressionlessly watched the main gate rattle and shake under their fists, listened to their raised concerned voices calling to be let in. I was drained, empty and exhausted. I waited until they got tired of it and left, and then I continued sitting there watching the trees move, the sun travel the sky. I could barely feel the frost biting at my fingers, my arms, my face. I could barely feel anything.
For two days, I waited. I sat around the house and watched the walls, walked around the yard and looked outside, into the forest and the trees. Minhwan didnât return. Taehyung didnât return. I was completely alone, in the silent house, just wondering whether I was forsaken by both of them, wondering what would happen if neither of them came back.
On the dawn of the third day, I heard footsteps in the yard. My stomach dropped and my heart felt like a piece of ice. Footsteps meant Minhwan. Footsteps meant the end of my life, meant my husband was back and there was no telling what he would do.
I drew the blanket closer to myself and resignedly made my way outside. I would accept whatever was to come. Except the moment I slid the door open, I saw a sheepish Taehyung nervously stepping from foot to foot in our yard. I could only guess how I looked, but when he saw me, he closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, arms immediately pulling me into his chest. I felt my resolve break and desperately clawed at him, pulled him closer, just needing to touch him and make sure he was real and he came back.
He pulled back and I whined, but he took my face into his hands, gazing upon me with tenderness and sadness and despair. His fingers smoothed out the worried lines on my face, touched the puffy cheeks and eyes, gently caressed my face until I could see my vision blurring with unshed tears. Taehyung sighed and bent down to lightly kiss my forehead.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered quietly, his voice like soft caress for my soul after days of loneliness and solitude, and sudden onslaught of emotions hit me like a stone wall. I grabbed onto his robe and looked into his kind beautiful eyes.
âWhere were you?â it came out choked on a sob and I couldnât even wait for his answer before the dam broke and I started crying. Taehyung held me through it, he took me in his arms and carried me inside, petted my back and held my face, whispered to me and it almost felt like a huge dĂ©jĂ vu to the first night I let him get closer to me. He apologised again and again, and I should have pressed for more answers, but I was so relieved he returned, I couldnât bring myself to ask more.
When I calmed down, Taehyungâs attention was finally drawn to the state of the house. I didnât clean up the bedroom, I barely even slept, and all the broken things were still lying around. It must have been quite a sight â a broken life, and in the middle of it all, a broken me. But instead of saying anything, he just reached over to grab the remnants of the hairpin. I watched him wordlessly, heart struck with grief at the sight of it, but he played with it for a moment, eyes peeking over at me and grinning mischievously. I returned it shakily, heavy emotions still weighing the corners of my mouth down but I tried, head leaning on his shoulder.
He encased the broken parts of it into his hands and shook them little. I thought nothing of it, watching his hands turn from side to side, expecting this to be just a way to distract me, but when his hands stopped, he uncovered his palm with a grand gesture and I gasped. There, lying on his palm, was the hairpin in one piece, looking as if itâs never been broken.
I immediately went to grab it, but he moved his hand away, keeping it out of my reach. Instead, he grabbed my brush and started slowly brushing out my tangled unkept hair. I let him care for me, I sat there on the floor of my thrashed bedroom, leaned on him and listened to him hum as he played with my hair. When Tae was satisfied with it, he tied my hair with his red ribbon and then pushed in the hairpin.
The fondness in his eyes when he looked over his work warmed my heart, and I relaxed into his embrace.
âIâm sorry I wasnât here,â Taehyung whispered again, âI shouldnât have left you alone.â I shook my head and tightened my arms around him.
âThere was nothing you could have done,â I told him and attempted to smile. I wanted to ease his worries, but I still felt too shaken.
âI should have been here,â Taehyung reiterated, âYou needed me, and I failed you.â I squeezed his waist, trying to share comfort to him as he did to me. He looked at me fondly with a little smile, then kissed me gently.
âWhere were you?â I asked again, this time much more calmly. Taehyungâs face fell immediately and I expected him not to want to tell me, but with some difficulty he started talking.
âI went to my hyung,â he admitted to me, and I realised there was guilt in his expression, âI asked him to sort something out for me.â I looked at him confused, but his face has turned hard and cold, gazing out of the room. I wanted to ask more, but I couldnât bring myself to. It didnât matter now, all that mattered was that he returned.
âWe need to leave,â I blurted out suddenly, the calmness leaving my body. I turned on my knees and grabbed onto his clothed shoulders, looking into his eyes with urgency. Taehyung smiled at me and attempted to sit me back down, but I wouldnât let him. âWe really need to leave, before my husband returns,â I continued, the words falling out of me quickly, âI donât know where he went, he hasnât returned for a few days, but when he returns I cannot say what he will do.â
Taehyungâs hands pushed onto my shoulders, gentle smile on his face, mouth opening to tell me something, no doubt to calm down, but I jumped in before he got a chance.
âNo, you donât understand Taehyung, he knows,â I whispered urgently, âHe knows about us. When he returns⊠Taehyung, Iâm scared of what will happenâŠâ I trailed off, hands flexing and bunching up the fabric of his robes. A few stray tears escaped my eyes, and I was surprised I even had some left in me, after the last few days.
Taehyung gave me a soft smile, hands coming up to hold my face. He gently wiped my tears away and bent down to kiss my forehead, my nose and finally my lips. I watched him, despair mixing with love and fear inside of me, making me feel like I was about to explode. I didnât know how else explain to him that we werenât safe here.
âIâm ready to leave,â I whispered again, desperate and broken, âPlease Taehyung, Iâll go with you. Iâm ready to go. Thereâs nothing left here.â He said nothing, but caressed my hair, fingers smoothing out the edges of my cold wet face. His eyes were trained on his hands moving on my skin, as if he wasnât registering what I said at all. I could see in them that he was battling something, lips pursed in a bittersweet smile like they were trying to keep in some awful truths.
My heart gave a few painful pumps before it felt like it stilled completely. My hands fell from him as despair and hurt took over. Suddenly the realisation hit me, the realisation of what this must have been for him. A goodbye. My lips curled around a silent sob, but I couldnât cry more, there was nothing left inside.
Taehyung noticed my plight and immediately pulled back into him, and I realised why he looked so guilty when we sat down.
âYouâre leaving, arenât you?â the words barely left my mouth, so quiet they could be barely heard, but Taehyung reacted to them immediately, arms tightening around me.
âNo, darling, of course Iâm not,â he replied, but I didnât want to hear more lies, not now and not ever. My own hands balled into fists in my lap.
âPlease, tell me the truth,â I said resolutely, looking straight into his eyes that were coloured by confusion at my statement. âWhat are you talking about?â Taehyung asked, lost and worried. His hands travelled across my shoulders and back, grabbing onto anywhere they could and then passing on as he tried to comfort me without fully knowing what was happening.
âYou didnât respond before,â I told him, and the realisation seemed to hit him almost instantly. âOh, darling,â he whispered and kissed me softly again, âof course I want you to leave with me. ButâŠâ He seemed to struggle there, looking down to his lap guiltily, fingers digging into my shoulders nervously. I grabbed onto his shoulders too and pressed a little closer, until our faces were just a breath away.
âWhat is it?â I asked, desperate for a resolution, desperate to leave this all behind and go into the woods with him, follow him wherever heâd take me.
âYour husbandâŠâ Taehyung started and I tensed at the mention, but I wasnât prepared for what came out of his mouth next, âhe isnât coming back.â I scrunched my face up in confusion. Taehyung avoided my eyes again, this time looking towards the door with a quiet resolution painted on his face.
âWhat are you talking about?â I pushed out of my mouth, mind muddled and tongue tied, âOf course he is, and heâll bring all hell back with him.â Taehyung sighed, hands flexing into my skin.
âY/N, you donât understand,â he reiterated, urgency taking over his sweet, honeyed tone, âHe isnât coming back. Ever.â I froze when I finally put together what he had tried to tell me. I wish I could say I was terrified. I wish I could say that I was filled with dread and panic and disgust instead of relief, I wish I could say that I pushed him away, confused and hurt, instead of letting out a shocked laugh, hands immediately searching for his face. I turned him so heâd look at me.
He was painted with shame and guilt, with fear that I would hate him for the implication, so I gently caressed his face and laid a little kiss over his furrowed brows. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief. My heart was beating fast, but I couldnât tell if it was out of nervousness or joy. I wondered whether that made me a bad person, whether I was cursed after all. But when Taehyung opened his eyes and gave me a toothy grin, it didnât seem to matter much.
âWhat did you do?â I asked the question in a hushed whisper, as if discussing my husbandâs demise was a thrilling secret just between the two of us. Based on the dark-haired manâs reaction to it he was expecting to hear a horror-struck tone, not the casualness with which I spoke about this matter, but he shook the surprise quick enough.
âDo you remember my hyung? The tiger?â Taehyung begun his explanation, a small smile taking over his face when I nodded in answer, âHe was the one your husband owed money to. It was a matter of time before heâd gotten himself reaped, I just called in an early favour.â I frowned slightly at that.
âYou mean that my husband was always destined to die?â the question was asked more out of curiosity than concern, but Taehyung still seemed to be a little on edge, fearing my reaction and attempting to gauge my emotional state. Still, he indulged me.
âHe was since the moment he decided to play cards against a spirit,â Taehyung explained, âTigers donât play for money. We have no need for earthly possessions. But the more the human loses to you, the more under your power they are. With the mounting debt, the spirit only bides his time, terrorising the soul and pushing them into losing more. Then the spirit only waits until theyâve lost the amount of money that could buy their soul, before reaping. Your husband was a lost cause since Yoongi set his eyes on him.â I took in the information slowly, but to me his death was inconsequential now. Taehyung would take me away, I didnât have to fear being left behind and collected by a family-in-law and living out the rest of my life as a proper widow, a property of my husbandâs relatives. With that my only concern was taken care of and I found myself empty of any big reactions regarding his impending sudden demise.
âDo souls have prices, then?â I inquired more, interested in his earlier statement. Taehyungâs eyes sparkled slightly, as if he was delighted I wanted to know more, delighted that I wasnât mourning, that I didnât think him a murderer.
âYes they do,â he answered simply, âa saint would be hard to tempt, the amount would be higher. A tyrant on the other hand, a sinner, they donât take much.â I hummed quietly, absent-mindedly playing with some of Taehyungâs long hair. It didnât take much to know which category my husband fell to. Getting my questions answered, I was satisfied to let this subject go. I felt as if a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and off of my heart. I found myself cautiously hopeful, looking forward to leaving this house and everything in it behind, letting it rot and fall to the ground and never return. But Taehyung seemed to have something else on his mind still.
âIt was me,â he confessed quietly and suddenly, leaving me confused what he meant. He looked at me, gauging my reaction, fingers nervously playing with the edge of my jeogori. âIt was me who told hyung to seek him out and tempt him into playing,â the man finally got out and it seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders too.
I said nothing, hands migrating to caress his hair gently, smiling softly, and then getting up. I walked across the room to where my possessions laid strewn across the floor as if they were violently gutted from the insides of the chest. I found a cloth big enough and started piling the most important things inside. Taehyung watched me quietly, unsure of where I stood, still believing I could shun him for this. I smiled at him again when I caught his sad eyes watching my hands move. He returned it, in the same cautiously hopeful way I felt, and I could just think to myself. How perfect. Weâre perfect like this.
âI just need to grab a few things and we can go,â I said, giving him a reassuring smile. His returning one was as bright as the sun itself and I felt my drained heart tiredly jumping in joy.
When I gathered everything, he took the bundle from me gently into one of his hands, the other holding mine as I quietly led him out of the cold empty house. Outside, the air was crisp and freezing, but the sun was shining and it filled me with happiness. The snow was sparkling, reflecting the rays of sunlight, blinding me slightly, but I had everything I needed, and it was a beautiful day outside. I squeezed Taehyungâs hand and he returned it.
Once stood in the gate, I turned back to the house wordlessly. I could see through the open doors the mess that was left inside, the state of the bedroom, and the two trails of footsteps leaving forever. Taehyung watched me carefully, making sure I was okay. I nodded at him and he grinned gently. We both turned and walked away.
He led me through the forest, up the mountain path. Iâd never been here before, and it seemed that it was a long time since someone else than the demon himself took this path. Briefly I wondered if it even was visible to other people or if it was one of those paths you see once out of the corner of your eyes and then never find it again, even if curiosity kills you from the inside.
Taehyung was walking confidently now, once we crossed the threshold into his world he gained strength and resolve and led me through the trees until we reached a little clearing with a dwelling firmly in the middle of it.
It was smaller than our farm, but it looked much nicer, with little windchimes and colourful decorations hanging from the beam over the porch. Their clanking created a nice ambience in the background and their colourful flashes reflected off of the snow. I smiled fondly at that, feeling at ease.
The house only really had two smaller rooms and a kitchen, but they were filled with books and clothes and paintings. Taehyung seemed to be a lover of arts, his walls full of various pieces varying from flowers to landscapes and portraits. I peeked at them curiously, but Taehyung seemed eager to pull me along until we reached the other room, where a bed was unfolded but untouched. There was a vanity on one side, very similar to the one I had, ready with a brush and another beautiful hairpin sitting next to it, waiting for their owner. I smiled at that, heart filled with so much love it felt like bursting.
Taehyung carefully laid the bundle with my things on the ground and then skipped back over to me, plastering himself to my back, arms possessively coiling around me and lips and nose immediately running over the expanse of the skin at my shoulder and neck. I shuddered lightly, noting his palpable excitement at bringing me to his home.
âThis will be our bedroom from now on,â he whispered in a rough voice, laying a series of wet open-mouthed kisses down my shoulder, âThis house will become a home.â His hand splayed over my stomach and pushed me more into his form, his heated body melting over me instantly, lips travelling wherever a sliver of skin presented itself to them.
I shuddered lightly, squirming in his arms. I managed to turn to face him and immediately was met with fond eyes full of unshed tears. I grabbed his face and gently pressed our lips together. I meant for the kiss to stay innocent, but Taehyung clearly had a different idea, descending onto me with an urgency of a starving man, lips devouring mine in a hot all-consuming kiss.
I moaned lightly into his mouth, hands tightening in his clothes and subconsciously pulling him closer to me. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, sighing with content when it met mine and twisted and pushed around each other. He towered over me, with every second bending down a little more, making me arch into the kiss. The dark-haired man was grabbing onto my hips, as strong as a vice, digging fingers into the layers of fabric with such force I still felt his nails biting into my skin. My own hands slowly travelled up, tangling into his hair and wrapping around his neck. When I pulled on the strand lightly, Taehyung sighed into my mouth and pushed us closer together.
My mind was quickly becoming muddled, only thoughts of the man in my arms swimming around in my brain, body heating up rapidly and begging for his attention in the way that he used to give me. And with the way he held onto me and pressed into me, he was in a similar state.
Without interrupting our kiss, Taehyung started slowly sliding down to the floor and pulled me with him. I gasped slightly and finally broke our kiss to breathe and take in the new position, but Tae didnât get discouraged and continued his path down my jawline and my neck. I had enough mind to breathlessly move my head out of the way and present my neck for him, which made him hum appreciatively, his low deep voice purring into my skin. All I could really do was hold on to him and let the sensations sail me further.
I could feel his hands inching higher, until they were kneading my waist, thumbs slipping under the jeogori and messing with my undergarments. My whole body trembled like a plucked string, desire wreaking havoc on my psyche. I released a shaky sigh and decided to be a little bit braver. I grabbed one of his hands, Taehyung making a little questioning sound in the back of his throat, but didnât stop his ministrations, and I pushed it towards the bow tying my top together.
Taehyung paused only for a second, eyes searching mine for any kind of hesitation, but I only blushed under his heated gaze, the lust taking over the control of my body and pushing my chest more into his curious hands. He no longer wasted time after that, leaning a bit back and making quick work of the binding and soon he had me sitting in his lap in only my undergarments. My lips found his again, needing to feel his touch more than I needed to breathe oxygen.
With new skin now visible Taehyung seemed to be over the moon, a little content sighs and quiet moans leaving his mouth as his fingers travelled across the expanse of my shoulder blades and my arms. The intensity of the kiss kept increasing, my body confusedly trying to move with the motions and seek even more pleasure. When Taehyung gently bit on my lower lip, my hips jerked forward on their own and I could feel a hardness sliding across my centre. We both gasped, Taehyungâs hands jumping to my hips to stop them, but I felt as if a lighting struck me to my core, pleasure zapping through me on a jolt. I gasped, hips mindlessly chasing after the feeling again. Taehyung separated the kiss on a groan, his head falling to my shoulder, hands now encouraging my hips to move instead of stopping them.
For a moment we just enjoyed each other, mindlessly kissing here, grabbing onto each other and chasing the pleasure, moving against each other. I managed to get Taehyung out of his outer robes too and he was clad only in a thin undershirt that teased a little bit of his collarbones, which I immediately covered in kisses. We didnât speak and the room was filled with the sounds of shifting clothes and airy little gasps and moans, but I needed more. I needed so much more.
Taehyungâs lips travelled down to the edge of my undergarment, kissing the soft swell teasing my breasts, and I gasped and arched and curved into him, but I could feel the smirk settling on his face as he moved away again. I whined, mind gone and begging for more solid touch, for his hand between my legs and his lips biting into my shoulders.
I pushed onto his shoulders and as Taehyung wasnât expecting it, he went easily, slight alarm painting his face, but I just grabbed him and pulled his face back to mine. The moment our lips crashed together, I keened, licking into his mouth desperately. The dark-haired man chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on me.
With one hand gently laid on my lower back, he slowly toppled us over until I was lying on the ground with his weight settling gently on top of me, legs tangled and lips intertwined. With a wet smack our lips separated and for a moment we both just looked at each other breathing hard, but then the time and reality caught up to my overheated excited brain and I immediately started tearing at his clothes, untying anything I got my hands on and pushing the fabric away until his whole torso was on display.
I choked on a moan, the desire reigniting within me tenfold. He was beautiful, strong and lean, honey-toned skin blemishless and perfect. Distracted with all the possibilities and my body screaming at me to have the man take me now, take me as soon as possible, my hands wildly flitted over his chest, kneading the skin but not settling anywhere for too long. I decided to pay back the favour and my lips latched onto his neck, making him shudder and moan. I played around lightly, just like he had, kissing anywhere I could, moving south to his pecks and then back up all the way to his ear with wet open-mouthed kisses, revealing just how far gone I was and how needy he made me with his earlier ministrations.
Taehyung buried his face into the crook of my neck, skin rippling with every touch, releasing low groans right into my ear, which made me work even harder. I was ecstatic that I was finally able to touch him too, ecstatic by the prospect of returning the pleasure he had been bestowing me with all these mornings that would have otherwise been cold and lonely.
With that thought in mind, my hands shifted to his hips, at first seemingly just sitting there and holding onto him, but slowly moving downwards, pushing the pants down. Taehyung didnât seem to notice at first, but once I got low enough to expose the v of his hips and the thicker part of his happy trail, he let out a loud excited groan, body shaking with anticipation.
His lips pressed into my ear. âDo you want to see me? Touch me?â he whispered, voice rough and aroused. I gasped quietly, legs falling open more so that he could settle his hips more comfortably and I could see the moment I finally pushed them low enough, breath held in excitement.
âYes, please,â I answered in a similarly debauched hushed voice, âplease, Taehyung.â His chest rumbled happily, lips busying themselves with biting and kissing into my neck. I must have been absolutely covered with little red and purple bruises and the thought sent a bolt of arousal through me, my body jerking underneath the bigger man.
âGo ahead then, darling,â he said sensually, regaining back a little control. His hips stiffened, allowing me to pull them down the final stretch, releasing his erection. It hit his lower stomach with a tiny noise, the wet tip leaving a little smear of clear liquid there. I clenched on nothing, a gush of wetness suddenly leaving me at the prospect of having him inside of me. He was watching me closely, a wild look on his face, and the more excited I felt, the hungrier he looked.
Then Taehyung pressed his face to mine again, lips caressing the shell of my ear as he whispered: âDo you want it? Do you want my cock, darling?â I nodded, a whimper escaping me, thighs and pussy throbbing with pure burning need. I was so aroused my head was spinning and every thought inside curled around the pleasure this man was providing me with. He clicked his tongue though, and shook his head a little, giving me a playful grin.
âThen you need to say it,â he stated meanly, eyes sparkling with mischief, âGood girls always ask for it.â The way his tongue wrapped around the words good girl made me borderline delirious, back arching and thighs spreading even further, until my hips hurt and I was gasping with the liquid lust coursing through my veins.
âPlease!â I whined out again, hands grabbing onto his searing hot skin and attempting to pull him closer, but he didnât budge.
âNo, no, no, darling,â his voice seemed even darker and richer than usual and I was losing my mind on the little rasp, his tongue peeking out to play with the lobe of my ear quickly sending me spinning, âYou need to say it.â
âPlease, Taehyung,â I choked out, a few tears of frustrated arousal slipping down my cheeks, âI want you.â He smiled, giving me false sense of victory, but still kept his hips away from mine. I whined again, not knowing what else to do.
âI want to hear the words from your mouth, darling,â he stated firmly, âSay âPlease Taehyung, I want your cockâ.â I gasped at his words, the flush on my face deepening despite the lewdness of the situation I already found myself in. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips and Taehyungâs eyes zeroed in on my mouth, fascinated.
âI want your cock,â I whispered, the arousal pushing me into boldness Iâve never displayed before, âPlease, Taehyung, I want your cock so bad.â He groaned and I saw the exact moment his pupils expanded with pure lust and his eyes were overtaken by desire to have me. While his lips crashed to mine, his hand grabbed one of mine and pulled it towards his cock and wrapping it around it.
I squeezed on instinct and Taehyung moaned into me, hips bucking gently. I took a moment to feel him out, just gently ran my hands over the ridges and curves. I could feel the way Taehyung trembled, the way his breathing stuttered on tiny, muted groans, his eyes firmly shut. His hands grabbed onto my thighs and dug into them through the underskirt still half covering me from his eyes.
When I began sliding my hand up and down the shaft, Taehyungâs head once again fell to my shoulder, open mouth pressing into my skin and releasing rugged moans. His hips jerked forward in tiny motions, thrusting lightly into my curled hands. I was content with touching him, but my body also screamed for attention, thighs shaking and muscles in my belly contracting in pleasurable little ripples. I was so wet I could feel my essence sliding down my thighs and my bottom, leaving a little puddle on the bedding under us.
I squeezed around him lightly and he jerked into my hands harder, a debauched groan leaving him. I spasmed, pussy pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled up to the brim, an answering moan leaving my own lips. Taehyung looked at me through half-lidded eyes, reason completely overridden by the need to push himself into my tight wet heat at the clear need depicted on my face, he shuddered again, pre-cum leaking out the red tip of his painfully erect cock.
His hands scrambled to grab my skirt and push it up my legs until it pooled around my stomach, wet pussy exposed to his needy hands. He didnât waste any time and pulled his fingers through my folds, teasing my clit for a moment and punching out desperate moans out of me, whole body spasming at the sudden onslaught of pleasure cursing through me, but then his fingers hurriedly slid down and pushed inside of me. At the feeling of his fingers getting so easily swallowed up by my wet cunt he groaned, thrusting them in a little and scissoring to make sure I was absolutely ready to take a cock, but both of us were beyond gone with desire.
I was enjoying the feeling of finally having something inside of me, but it didnât last for long. After a few hurried thrusts of his fingers, Taehyung pulled his hand away and I whined, arching my back, pussy chasing after him. He quickly swatted my hands from his length and lowered his hips until we were pressing into each other, his cock snuggly sliding through my wet folds.
Our breaths were knocked out of us on deep satisfied groans. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, coating himself in my juices to ensure easier slide, and then pushed inside with one firm motion, cock driving inside of me without any resistance, filling me absolutely all the way up on the first thrust. I threw my head back, mouth open on a silent scream, the contentment of finally having him inside me lighting my every nerve on fire and satisfying something deep inside of my core. I trembled, desperately holding onto him as my brain turned to mush with barely anything.
Taehyung was having more trouble staying silent, mouth open and instantly pumping out groans and moans, shaky hands keeping my hips still and desperately trying to stop himself from immediately mindlessly driving into the divine pleasure that was the feeling of being enveloped by my wet tight walls.
I whimpered and squirmed underneath him, grabbing onto him. I wasnât even fully aware of myself, body and mind consumed by the heavenly feeling of being filled by him.
âPlease!â I whined out loud, desperately needing him to finally start doing something, like there was an itch deep inside of me that needed scratching, âPlease, give me more!â
Taehyung chuckled above me, trying to stay suave and smooth but I could hear how breathless he was, could feel his hands tightening and loosening on my hips. His hips trembled against mine, jumping with excitement at my words.
He pulled his hips back and slowly slid back in, making us both sigh with content. He kept the pace slow and deep, covering me with his body and claiming my mouth with his while I fell apart on his well-aimed pace. I moaned on every stroke, arching my hips and spreading my thighs to let him hit deeper, pull him in closer.
The slow build up of the pleasure had me losing my mind. I felt like I was getting gradually submerged into boiling water, the heat steadily rising with every thrust filling me with deep primal satisfaction. My hands roamed over Taehyungâs body, appreciating his smooth skin and muscles as they jumped with movement, soaking up Taehyungâs little hick-uped groans when I passed over sensitive areas.
Taehyung changed the angle a little bit and when he pressed all the way inside, his tip pressed into a spot that had me keening loudly underneath him, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open. My hands instinctively grabbed onto his waist and squeezed, nails digging into his skin, and Taehyung groaned loudly, hips jerking into me roughly, punching out a whiny moan out of me.
That seemed to break us into a frenzy, my hands sliding down his body and grabbing onto his ass, pushing him into me and encouraging his movements. Taehyung happily took the sign and started thrusting faster and harder, filling the room with sounds of our moans and the wet slapping of our hips. I couldnât stop the sounds spilling out of my mouth, his every stroke hitting deep inside me and lighting my every nerve on fire, stoking the lust and the bliss in pulsing consuming waves.
I felt myself getting close to the peak I was so familiar with from his hands, the sensations drowning me and washing over me in over-powering waves. Taehyungâs moans were reaching crescendo, getting higher and whinier as his hips unfalteringly pounded into me.
âSo close, darling,â he croaked with a raspy voice, âgoing to paint you with my seed, going to fill you to the brim.â I moaned in response, pussy throbbing and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper. I needed us both to peak, I needed it more than air to feel him unwind and release, get consumed with pleasure I provided him with.
âGod, just a little more,â I answered to him breathlessly on a pleasured sigh. My hands squeezed his bottom and pushed him a little rougher. His breath hitched, but he changed his pace accordingly, slowing down but snapping his hips into me harder and rougher, making me wail with pleasure.
I felt myself spiralling into the heat, knowing I wouldnât last too long like this. Above me Taehyung watched me through half-lidded eyes, mouth open and face consumed with raw lust at my blissed-out state. I caught his eyes just seconds before my whole body spasmed and then stilled, climax exploding over me with force that shocked a raspy scream out of me. I blanked out, trembling and overflowing with bliss and ecstasy, legs spasming and toes curling with the sensation of the fire consuming me inside out. It was the best feeling Iâve ever felt, the most intense thing my body has ever gone through, but I loved every second of it. It felt as if all the stress just drained away from my body and was replaced by molten gold.
Taehyung fucked me through the orgasm, and it took him only a few more thrusts before his hips jerked wildly, pleasure mounting until he released deep inside of me with his head thrown back and a long drawn-out moan. I felt his cock throb and pulse inside of me as it spurted his seed, his hips lightly swaying in circles to ride it out, until the boneless weightless feeling set in and he collapsed on top of me.
I was feeling so content, body pleasantly light and thrumming with aftershocks of our shared moment, eyelids heavy with sleep. I felt Taehyung slip out and move away from me, his release running down my legs and making me blush again, but I didnât have any strength to move or wipe it away, so I just laid there and waited for the man. He returned with a piece of cloth, still just as naked, shooting me a little playful wink when he saw me looking at his body. I turned around, embarrassed, even though we had just enjoyed each other like husband and wife.
I heard his little chuckle, but then the cloth suddenly pressed onto my thighs, making me gasp quietly. Taehyung squeezed my leg in apology and continued cleaning me up. I couldnât help the little sighs of content leaving me, the warm cloth and his gentle touches filling my heart with love.
When he was done, he threw the piece of cloth away carelessly, before jumping onto the bedding and snuggling up to me. We ended up like we always have, Taehyung holding me from behind, hands pulling me as close to him as I could go, lips and nose pressing into the crook of my neck and into my hair, trilling happily.
I let it gently lull me to sleep, melting into his loving embrace, listening to his content purrs, our bodies moulding perfectly together like it was always meant to happen. I closed my eyes, and welcomed sleep, feeling the most comfortable Iâve been in years.
I couldnât remember what I was thinking right before I slipped under, but I did with the feeling of just everything being right.
I would be okay. We would be okay.
hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3
A/N: the story of prince cheoyong, the son of the dragon king who neglected his wife to which a demon of pestilence took a liking and sneaked into her bed - one day cheoyong returned home and saw four feet sticking out of the bed instead of two, and he chased out the demon with singing and dancing, saving his wife and becoming a guardian god - it was said that no demon or evil spirit could enter a house as long as there was a likeness of cheoyong there, so people bought his portraits or talismans with his face and put them on their door, but i kind of switched the sides hehe
#kpop fic#kpop smut#kpop fluff#kpop angst#bts fic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#bts x reader#taehyung fic#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#taehyung x reader
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†Yandere Criminal â€
ⶠThis is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Kidnapping.
Little gift for the New Year! Hope you guys like it :)
--
⟠Yandere!Criminal whose specialty is small robberies of convenience stores and bodegas, nothing that goes beyond that.
That also means that money is tight, itâs hard enough to cover for the insanely high rent, let alone cover for monthly groceries, water and electricity bills.
⟠Yandere!Criminal whoâs fucking tired of sitting in his dark shitty apartment, smoking a blunt in hopes of deceiving the hunger that rumbles in his stomach.Â
He lays back on his second-hand couch, eyes following the gray ropes of smoke that ascend from his lips, mind racing on every possible way of making money fast.
His rent is due in a week and his fridge is desolately empty, aside from a bottle of water.Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal who gets restless and in the spur of the moment, decides to head out on a walk around his block. Maybe thatâll give him some ideas or distract him from the ache in his stomach.Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal barely takes a few steps into the street when he sees you.Â
A pretty girl walking down the street, eyes nervously darting towards every shadow that moves.Â
What are you doing out in the dark street at such hours?
Itâs way past midnight, as the old watch in his wrist tells him. Thatâs not time for a girl like you to be out, especially not his neighborhood at least.
Youâre lucky that no one has approached you yet or you wouldnât be looking so damn cute right now.Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal whose interest is spiked when he notices the clothes youâre wearing under the dim moonlight.
The short dress only long enough to cover your ass, the high stiletto heels clicking on the dirty floor at each step you take.Â
Youâre looking like a serious sex-bomb in those clothes, despite the scaredy expression covering your dolled-up face.Â
But a second look at your body has him squinting his eyes, brain engines rolling as he examines your outfit.
Is that a fucking Prada cocktail dress? And the heels that youâre wearing Louboutins? The fancy purse, a Channel limited edition? Itâs got to be daddyâs money, cause that face of yours isnât giving smart vibes.
⟠Yandere!Criminal who instantly knows this is destiny.
You were sent to him for a reason. And the reason is that youâre his new bank account.Â
You have to be, otherwise it wouldâve been some disgusting scumbag to find you first.Â
He wastes no time in reaching out for you. He knows heâs not bad looking, high-cheekbones and lustrous dark hair. Hopefully that works in his favor.Â
And it certainly does, a kind expression on his face as he offers you help. You immediately accept - so fucking naive, you poor dumb thing - immediately blabbering that your phone lost battery and that youâre sooo late to his super-chick party whose address youâre not entirely sure of.Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal who nods, pretending to understand all your issues. Slapping his face as he remembers that - oh, yeah, he kinda forgot his phone in his apartment. Maybe youâd want to come with him while he grabs it?
Itâs not safe for you to be out here, on your own. Dangerous neighborhood and all of that.
And you follow him right away, like a lost duckling. Itâs so easy, a smirk creeping on his face when you enter his apartment. Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal who instantly pounces on you, dragging you by the hair to his bedroom, a new found adrenaline running down his body.
You shriek and cry out loudly so heâs forced to push some old cloths on your mouth, using duct tape.
Honestly, heâs not even that worried about you getting away cause youâre barely able to put any fight. Youâre a weak little thing, arenât you?
⟠Yandere!Criminal who only waits a day before contacting mommy and daddy, demanding a good amount of green for them to be able to retrieve you.
He thinks a lot about howâs it gonna play out, creating a plan that sounds pretty much bullet-proof.
He gets easily distracted by you, eyes greedily running over your body. The dress doing even less to cover you in the daytime light, the make-up smudged and half-disappearing, revealing a younger â cuter â face.
Youâre relatively obedient too, toning down your hysterical cries after he harshly yelled at you. He could bet that if he put on a mean face and threatened you, youâd probably suck him off.Â
⟠Yandere!Criminal who finally gets his money, a large grin opening up in his face as he receives the cash. More than enough for him to move into a fancy mansion on a private neighborhood and retire for the rest of his days.Â
No more stealing, no more spending his days worried about rent or food. Now he can finally sip on a freshly-made margarita and relax by the infinity-pool of his new house, the sunny rays hitting his toned skin.Â
Maybe after heâs done with his drink, heâll go pay you a visit. Youâre still adapting to your new house - and him, hence why heâs keeping you in a tight leash (literally).Â
Now youâre all his. His little ATM.
#@mrsdarkandyandere7#yandere x you#yandere x reader#tw: yandere#yandere concept#female reader#yandere headcanons#yandere oc x reader#yandere x darling#yandere imagines
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love bites;
shoko ieiri x fem!reader
ao3 âą masterlist âą w.c: ~1k âą themes: love bites, kissing, oral sex, slight yandere vibes if you squint, shy reader, established relationship, dominant shoko
âYour skin is looking a bit bare,â Shoko murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your exposed shoulder.
You shrugged, being completely oblivious somehow to her implication. âIâm not the type to ink it.â
âNo, my silly blank canvas,â she lightly scoffed before lowering her voice again, moving closer to you, ânot like that.â
âOh? How do you mean then?â you asked, picking up on her teasing tone.
âParading around like I donât own you,â she hummed out a hint, dipping her lips against your shoulder and lightly nipping at the skin, sucking against your bare flesh. You sat perfectly still, shuddering out slight goosebumps as her breath ghosted around your body, moving her grazing lips across your collarbone and then neck.
âLike that,â she whispered, slightly parting away from you, âlet me cover you in kisses.â
âThatâll leave so many marks though,â you huffed, feeling a little embarrassed.
âGood girl,â Shoko teased, enjoying seeing the blush on your face, âyou always did keep up with me so well.â
âBut, b-butâŠâ you stammered, feeling hot at your cheeks as your body likely betrayed how this was making you truly feel.
âWouldnât it be rude of me to not show you off as mine?â she asked, her voice carrying almost a possessive threat behind it, as if challenging you to talk back.
âWell, maybe I do get itâŠâ you admitted, biting your lip.
âMy good girl, keeping up with me again,â she praised before returning her lips back to your skin, peppering slow longing kisses down your chest, down the contours of your stomach and down to your hips.
As she worked on your body, you couldnât help but lightly tremble as her fingers crept under your underwear, pulling down the pair along with the waistband of your skirt. You had been with her plentiful times before at this point, but each and every single moment still quite literally took your breath away.
âYouâre my sweet girl, arenât you?â she asked, pausing for a moment as she knelt right below you, her deep brown eyes locking in with yours.
âI-I am,â you replied in a shaky tone.
âYou love letting me take care of you, donât you?â Shoko asked again in that same sort of tone, as if expecting a certain sort of answer.
âA-always,â you gave in, watching her tense expression melt away into a smile.
She moved in a little closer, pushing your thighs open and gestured for you to relax a little more. As she parted your lips, her tongue streamlined a lap right over your clit, flickering at the rosy bud to test your first response.
You of course tensed up ever so slightly, feeling your breath hitch in your throat. She always knew exactly what intricate motions to take and where to press.
âSo responsive,â she laughed a little before doing it again and again, barely containing her brushes of laughter as slowly but surely, she reduced you to a whining and even squirming mess.
You couldnât help it though; she was being a tease.
Shoko paused for a moment, taking some time to bite and suck against your inner thighs to drive the initial point back home. However, by then you were already deeply flustered and unable to properly think for yourself just yet.
Noticing this, she rubbed lazy circles just over the bud with her fingers. She got a certain sort of unique pleasure from seeing you writhe around under her touch, so needy and desperate for her to continue.
Of course, you fed beautifully into this, gripping at the sheets with desperate clawing attempts. Your eyes couldnât help but screw shut, trying to bite back the rising and almost burning need to let go, that had your stomach cinching and coiling at the thought.
âYouâre not going to hide away for the next couple of days are you?â Shoko considered, watching the love bites already form around your skin. She chose spots that your clothes couldnât quite conceal, after all.
âN-no, of course not,â you denied.
âYouâll show yourself off for me, wonât you?â she pushed a little, her fingertip pushing a little harder against the swollen flesh.
âIâll show offâŠâ you gasped out a promise.
Shoko hummed in a pleased tone, pushing and rubbing on you with a now continuous motion. âYou will, wonât you? Youâll show off those pretty little marks I gave you. You wouldnât let them go to waste?â
âNo, no,â you gasped a little more, trying to squeeze your legs shut despite her not letting you. âIâll be good, Iâll let the world know that Iâm yoursââ
ââgood,â she cut you off slightly, her tongue returning to where it was before, flicking at your clit again, resuming the motions that were sending you right over the edge. âYouâre so turned on for me, arenât you?â
âShokoââ you tried to stifle out; the feeling was almost overwhelming the longer she continued to work against you. You couldnât help yourself as your fingers found themselves entangled in her deep brown hair, interlocking at the strands as you grew desperate for a release.
âThatâs it,â she murmured against your skin, her words slightly muffled, âlet go for me, let me make you feel good,â she continued to say, her one free hand weaving through your other fingers, holding on tight as you were brought over the edge.
âShoâI⊠I-I think Iâm going toââ you whimpered, almost.
Shoko could only squeeze your hand, continuing the flickering motions of her tongue at a slightly higher tempo, but nothing too overwhelming. She had you right where she wanted you; in the perfect position and in the perfect state of mind. The wet muscle moved achingly perfect over your clit, spurring tingles that made your body twitch and quiver as slowly but surely, she coaxed out a release from you.
âIâm gonnaââ you repeated yourself; your voice much more strained than before, almost cracking as your control seemed to slip away.
You couldnât keep it going anymore, finding that your body almost vibrated with rising pleasure that now desperately fought to escape, radiating through your core in rolling waves that rose and settled. Your thighs began to shake and your knees quivered while the sweeping climax quite literally consumed you.
Pulling back, Shoko looked very satisfied to see your completely spent state before she climbed back onto the bed with youâpushing you down to your back and laying her head against your shoulder, returning her fingers to where they were before.
This time however, she had patterns on your skin to trace; a reminder that you were hers and hers alone.
#shoko#ieiri shoko#shoko ieiri#shoko x reader#shoko x you#shoko x y/n#shoko ieiri x you#shoko ieiri x reader#ieiri shoko x reader#wlw smut#x reader smut#x reader fanfiction#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#shoko jjk#jjk shoko#kissing#love bites#jjk oneshot#jjk fic#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk x female reader
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okay I feel like you would be the perfect person to write this request! Obviously you donât have to write it if you donât want to :)it and idea for a Luke castellan x reader (and spoilers for the books/series if you havenât read the books or know the plot!)
Is there anyway youâd be interesting in writing a Luke x reader where theyâre a daughter of Poseidon fic where he betray the reader and like poisons them instead of percy but reader and Luke where in a relationship??? Idk mad woman by Taylorâs swift like opening lyrics give off that sort of vibe sorry if this makes no sense đ
THE WAY I GASPED AND SHOUTED "THAT'S EVIL". Nahhh, poor Y/N. I feel so bad for the suffering I'm going to put her through...
( master list )
POISON AND TOXIN. luke (pjo)
IN WHICH... Luke commits the unthinkable and Y/N no longer wants any part in his life. Unfortunately for her, Luke isnât ready to let her go.
"I'm takin' my time, takin' my time. 'Cause you took everything from me. Watchin' you climb, watchin' you climb over people like me."
Warnings : spoilers, details will differ (I havenât read the books in ages), obsessive love, yandere! luke, kidnapping, angst, betrayal, toxic relationship, mentions of sex, manipulation, y/n + luke know theyâre toxic but they canât stay away from each other
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The last few days without Percy had been uneventful to say the most. Y/N groaned as she slowly sat up, clutching her aching head. The pain was pounding against her skull, causing her to quietly scoff. She groggily reached for a bottle of pills beside her bed, taking one to relieve the pressure.
The harsh light from the sun seared into the room and she groaned, squinting her eyes to protect them.
âAnother late night, Y/N?â Harmon, a boy from the Apollo cabin, called out as she exited her cabin to breathe in the morning air. He jogged over to a swaying Y/N.
âYeah. It doesnât feel right without Percy.â Y/N groaned, running a hand through her untidy hair. She probably looked like a mess right now but with all the thoughts rushing through her mind, she didnât care.
It felt wrong without Percy. All those years alone had done some damage on her and it had been exciting to have someone new in her cabin, for a little while at least. While Percy occupied the bed in the corner of the dusty room, Y/Nâs nightmares came to a temporary halt. She was happy for the time being, her dreams filled with pretty flowers and romantic settings instead of chilling monsters and bony hands threatening to drag her to the bottom of the ocean.
âHowâs Luke?â Harmon questioned, causing Y/N to heave an annoyed sigh. She rolled her E/C sighed, scowling.
âAs distant as ever.â She sneered. She lifted her head, making eye contact with the one person they were talking about. Y/N held strong eye contact with Luke before glancing back to Harmon, smiling at him. âHave you had breakfast yet?â She questioned, tilting her head to the side. âDo you know if thereâs any food left?â
âThere might be. You woke up pretty late.â Harmon grinned.
âI will see you later, then. I have to make myself look presentable and not like a raccoon that just crawled out of a garbage can.â Y/N laughed at her own joke as she waltzed back into her cabin, kicking the door closed. She hummed under her breath as she pulled the crop top she slept in off, replacing it with her bra and the bright orange shirt she hated so much.
She quietly yelped when her door creaked open, thinking it was someone else. She felt a little relieved when it was only Luke. He stood there in all his glory, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that suggested he wasn't happy at all. "What was that?" He questioned, sitting down on Y/N's bed as she looked at him in confusion.
"Uh... what?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Luke scoffed at her perplexed face, not believing it for a second.
"You were flirting with that Apollo boy. You're my girlfriend, not his." Luke snapped, anger glazing over his usual kind eyes. Y/N was taken aback, staring at him with her red-tinted lips parted in surprise.
"I wasn't... what? Luke, I wasn't flirting with Harmon. He's my friend." Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she slid on a pair of pants. She could feel Luke's gaze watching her every move and wandering over her waist.
What had become of Luke? She was at camp before he even arrived and she was the one to show him around, introducing the boy to the perilous life of a demigod. Ever since that damned quest, he had been acting different. More closed-off, more secretive with someone he once shared everything with, and he let his temper get the best of him; always shouting at people and letting his anger flare up like he was Clarisse.
Annabeth could sense the change too.
"What's with you, Luke? You used to be fine with me talking to Harmon." Y/N took a careful step towards her boyfriend, not wanting to upset him even more.
"That was before he started staring at you like you were the only girl he could ever date." Luke jeered as he deeply frowned. Y/N smoothened out her messy bedsheets before taking a seat next to him.
She stared at him, not really knowing what to reply with. Her breath shuddered as she shrugged. "I guess I could... talk to him less?" She muttered, causing Luke's face to light up. He instantly smiled, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace.
"I love you." He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. Y/N blinked a few times, thickly gulping.
"I... I love you too, Luke." His hands felt like blistering metal on her bare arms but she couldn't find the courage to pull away, in fear he'd hurt her or leave her. Luke had never hit her, thankfully, but his words sometimes pierced her soul and he left her crying under her sheets, wondering what she had done wrong.
"I'll see you after archery, alright?" Luke ended the hug.
Y/N stared at him in confusion. "But... I thought you were teaching the newbies archery and I'd be showing someone else around?" She spluttered.
"Nah. I changed your job. Newcomer's a boy and I don't want him to get any ideas." Luke grinned and Y/N couldn't say no to his charming face. He passionately kissed her, cupping her face in his large hands to pull her closer.
"I should get going, Luke." Y/N breathed but he tugged her back.
"You can afford to leave them for a few minutes." He whispered, dragging Y/N onto his lap. She couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing bright red despite his hands harshly digging into her skin and his grip being so tight that she couldn't squirm away, even if she wanted to. Luke had no interest in whatever the new kid was saying. He kept babbling on and eventually, Luke managed to tune out his voice. The pair ended up in the arena and the boy, whose name was Gil, nudged Luke.
"Who's that?" Gil questioned, pointing at Y/N. Luke clenched his jaw and harshly cleared his throat. He placed his hands on Gil's shoulders, squeezing him tighter than needed.
"Y/N L/N." He muttered. "Pretty little thing, ain't she? She's great with archery. May as well be Apollo's daughter with that skill." Gil didn't notice the dark look in Luke's eyes, too preoccupied with craning his neck to catch another longing glimpse of Y/N. Luke cleared his throat, "The tour's over. I trust you'll be able to find the Hermes cabin by yourself?"
Gil mindlessly nodded.
Luke walked over to Y/N, tapping her on the shoulder. He kissed her cheek, making sure Gil saw his not-so-subtle advances. "What was that for?" She asked as she turned to Luke. The young demigods groaned at the sight of a couple and Y/N quietly laughed, effortlessly shushing them.
"I think you've had enough practice for today. Come back tomorrow, same time." Y/N said to the children, ushering them away. Luke slung an arm around her shoulder as they walked side by side.
"You have to stop attracting attention from other guys." Luke uttered to break the peaceful silence.
"What?" Y/N lightly gasped, offended. She glowered at Luke, quietly scoffing. "Oh, so it's my fault now?"
Luke shrugged, pressing his lips into an annoyed thin line. "I'm just saying. You wear low-waisted pants and a shirt that's too small." Y/N should have punched him for that comment but she was sure that Luke could do a lot worse to her pretty face.
"My clothes are not an invitation." Y/N quickly snapped.
"When did you start disrespectfully talking back?"
"It's hardly disrespectful, Luke. I'm simply standing up for myself. I do not condone your jealous behavior and troublesome remarks." Y/N harshly poked his chest, almost angrily baring her teeth at him. "Talk to me when you regain your senses. It's not my damn fault that you feel so threatened by other boys that you start blaming me."
Luke ran his tongue over his teeth as he watched Y/N storm off. He bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in frustration. Y/N would forgive him for his harsh and cold words in no time, she always did. Especially when he'd sneak into her cabin at night with her permission and press her hips deep into her squeaky mattress.
Y/N went to lunch furious and still fuming. A part of her wanted to wear an over-sized shirt to please Luke while the other refused to back down. What gave him the right to dictate her life while he could do whatever he wanted simply because of his gender?
Y/N was even angrier to see Luke standing at the Aphrodite table, entertaining the giggling girls who he knew had a thing for him. She gripped her fork tightly and jumped when someone slid into the seat next to her.
âIs he your boyfriend?â Y/N recognised him as the Gil boy, or whatever his name was. She raised her eyebrows as her lips curled into a slight sneer.
âDo I⊠know you?â She asked, âOnly Poseidon kids are allowed to sit here and until my brother is back, nobody but me should be here.â
Gil quickly stood up, his knees hitting the table. âSorry. I didnât realise. Iâll, uh, go back to the Hermes table. Sorry, again.â He ran off while Y/N sighed. She picked at her half-eaten food before deciding she was no longer hungry. It was a rash decision but as soon as she reached the wildly dancing fire, she threw her food and plate in. Her father wouldnât be too pleased but he could live with it.
Lukeâs sharp gaze followed Y/N as she left the cheerful atmosphere. He quietly chuckled and smirked. If there was one thing that he knew about Y/N, it was that she didnât handle jealousy too well either.
He left the Aphrodite table without an excuse, not caring about the girls drunk with love. âHey, Y/N, honey, did that Gil kid upset you? I understand that heâs a little annoying but I can talk to him if you want.â Luke clasped his hands around her wrist, forcing her to stop walking so quickly.
âItâs not his fault!â Y/N exclaimed, spinning around. Her eyes were red and the tears welling up in her eyes shone in the dim sun. âItâs yours, Luke! You treat me like Iâm some⊠some girl who worships the ground you walk on! Well, I donât! I have some self-respect left. And if you want to flirt with other girls then thatâs fine by me. But make sure you break up with me first because Iâm not putting up with any of your bullshit.â
Luke chuckled, âHarsh words, donât you think?â He almost jumped when Y/N let out a scream.
âYou never take me seriously! All you do is play around and then you get mad at me for factors I canât control! Yet you always brush me off when Iâm trying to resolve things. You isolate me from my friends so Iâm easier to mess with! Well, are you done now? Have you had enough fun?!â
âIâm not manipulating you. Youâre crazy to think that. I love you, Y/N.â
âNo! Thatâs not true! Thatâs a lie!â Y/N pulled at the end of her hair, âYou fell in love with the idea of me! Youâre in love with your version of me that lives inside your head! And then you get mad at me because I make a mistake and your Y/N isnât supposed to make mistakes!But Iâm not like her, Luke! You have pushed me too far and when I finally break, suddenly Iâm the crazy one?! You always call me crazy. So guess what, maybe I am insane!â Y/N heavily panted as tears spilled over her hot cheeks, cascading down and temporarily staining her shirt. She had always been a kind soul but there was one particular flaw Y/N hated; her habit of crying whenever she was mad.
âIf you wonât end our relationship then I will. Weâre over, Luke. Iâve had enough of your jealousy and if you canât accept that I have guy friends then maybe you need to think twice before attacking me.â Y/N reached up, grasping the necklace she had made Luke that hung around his neck, and yanking it off.
Luke watched in despair as the colourful beads dropped one by one to the floor, rolling under the green blades of grass. âAre you crazy?â He muttered, looking up. âYou canât leave me⊠Iâm all you have.â He clutched his shirt, balling up the fabric, and he took long strides towards Y/N. âI made you into who you are. I created you from nothing. Before me, you were only a girl half-decent at archery. Now, youâre a prodigy. You wouldâve been lost without my guidance and you have the guts to break up with me?!â
Y/N didnât flinch, even when Lukeâs voice pierced her sensitive ears. âItâs like you said, Luke. I am crazy. Breakups happen so deal with it.â She threw the remaining beads and the leather string at him before walking away, most likely to stay in the cool comforts of her cabin until Annabeth and Percy returned.
Luke could barely contain his rage and he hurriedly kneeled down to collect the beads, or at least the ones he could find.
Each bead and charm seemed to bring back a different memory of them arguing or fighting over a pointless topic. Luke sighed as he leaned his head back, knowing he had made a mistake.
But if there was one thing Luke Castellan refused to do, it was give up. So he stared at Y/N all throughout dinner. And even when Y/N made it clear that the sight of him made her sick, he still knocked on her door at night.
âY/N.â He called out, impatiently tapping his foot against the old wood. âIâm sorry. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Iâm ready to talk everything out. Iâm calm now.â
Those were the exact words he had uttered to Y/N last week, promising he would change but he never did. Y/N had learned her lesson from that, refusing to open the door and going as far as locking it.
âY/N. Youâre being unreasonable.â Luke grumbled as he desperately tried to open the door, barging into it with his shoulder. He heard Y/N laugh.
âThatâs ironic considering youâre trying to break my door down.â She spoke over the hooting owls and buzzing cicadas. âYou always promise youâll change but you never do. Donât you think itâs time to stop making empty promises?â
Luke could hear her voice waver and he felt a small pang of guilt, knowing he was the reason behind her agonising sorrow.
âIâm sorry.â He whispered, not only to Y/N but to everybody he was about to hurt, even to his father who was the most wretched man in this world. He repeated his sentence, leaning his head against the door. It suddenly swung open and Luke almost crashed into Y/N whom was still gripping the door knob.
She quietly sighed, her gaze immediately spotting his mournful eyes and his lips pulled into a guiltily frown. Y/N hesitated before stepping aside.
âThis is your last chance, Luke.â She mumbled but he knew she was lying. She loved him far too much to devoid herself of his charming face.
Luke smiled as he brushed past Y/N. She could never resist him, after all. In a way, Luke pitied her for being so forgiving and sick with love because she and Percy were in the most danger out of everybody, even if they couldnât see it yet.
The day Percy returned was the day Luke decided to be a hopeless romantic. He took an unsuspecting Y/N into the woods, twirling her around a few times because she always liked dancing.
While Y/N was distracted by the babbling brook and dipping her hand in the cool water, Luke clasped his hands behind his back. He was thinking of what to do next, let Y/N to fend for herself or he could struggle to protect her.
But sacrificing so much for a mere girl seemed pointless, even if Luke was developing strong feelings for Y/N. He quickly clicked his fingers, catching Y/Nâs attention. She glanced over her shoulder, her joyful smiling fading as she laid eyes on the huge pit scorpion.
She scrambled back while Luke watched her pathetic attempt at escaping.
âI wouldnât.â He uttered, âPit scorpions can jump fifteen feet and slice right through your clothes. Youâll be dead in sixty seconds. But, of course, you already knew that because you love reading about these creatures. Thatâs why you look so frightened.â
Y/N looked at Luke, searching for any kindness in his eyes to offer her mercy. There was none. His eyes were like a void, empty and dark and lacking any human emotions.
He looked nothing like her Luke who she had met on his first day of camp, scared, annoyed, and baffled at what had become of his dead friend Thalia.
âItâs a shame I have to end our relationship here. I was starting to enjoy your presence, but giving up all my hard work for you is hardly beneficial.â
âWhat?â Y/N spluttered, trying to kick the scorpion away. She only made it angrier and it clapped his claws at her, ignoring Luke altogether. The scorpionâs tail was raised in hostility and Y/N held back a loud shudder of fear, knowing Luke was thriving off her terror. âLuke⊠what are you talking about?â
He laughed as if she were an idiot. She felt like one for trusting him despite how much he hurt her. âYou donât get it, do you? I want revenge. On my father and on the gods who have forsaken their children! They donât give a shit about us. They never did. To them, weâre just some nitwits who are stupid enough to suck up to them. I was the one who stole the bolt, Y/N. Not Hades. And I was the one who sent that hellhound after Percy.â
âLuke, I trusted you.â Y/N thickly gulped.
âA fatal mistake.â
âNo. Thatâs our parents youâre talking about, Luke. And you wouldnât try and kill Percy⊠would you? Not my brother. You know how much he means to me.â Y/Nâs eyesight turned glassy as she furrowed her eyebrows.
It all made sense now. His sour mood and his bitter attitude. All those nights she spent crying over his glass sharp words. Y/N felt foolish for not noticing what he was doing, but she was far too preoccupied with saving her relationship with Luke at the time.
âWhat did you think Iâd say to that? Join you?â Y/N huffed.
Lukeâs eyes flickered to the large bug that was only getting more furious as the seconds ticked by. âDoes a scorpion sting when fighting back?â He simply questioned.
Y/Nâs hardened gaze bored into his soul as she answered. âThey strike to kill⊠and you know I will too.â
Yes, Luke knew that. Y/N was an exceptional fighter with strategic moves rivalling Annabethâs. Every carefully planned attack she dealt was like instant death. Luke knew if she had a weapon then she wouldnât hesitate to land a blow. But he also knew she cared for him far too much to stab his chest. If he had a better weapon, would he do the same? Or spare her?
âItâs a shame you wonât join me⊠I know you wonât. You and your brother are too alike.â Luke let out a low hum, âI guess weâve both changed. You used to be hungry for power. I remember you would train until the sunset with your bow and arrow, always wanting to be the best. Youâd skip meals, even if you were starving, and Iâd have to beg and cry for you to eat. Maybe if my father didnât give me that quest then we wouldâve been fine.â
Luke stared at Y/N for a moment before a grin broke across his face. He stepped over the furious scorpion, pressing a strong kiss to Y/Nâs lips. It felt on acid on her skin, itchy and burning and painful.
âA part of me hopes youâll survive this.â He whispered, âSo you can live to see another day. Iâll create the perfect world for you⊠youâll see. Youâll love me again even if I have to force the words down your throat.â
Something slipped into her pocket but Y/Nâs mind was on the pit scorpion. She flinched as the it climbed up her shoe, snapping its pinchers again.
âLuke.â She breathed as he began to walk away. âLuke. Donât leave me here! Luke!â She screeched. She would have continued screaming, even if her voice gave up and her vocal cords tore, if it meant she could spend one more day with the warm and loving Luke that she once knew.
The scorpion drove its tail into her leg and she shrieked in pain. She kicked the creature off and desperately searched around for a weapon. She found a small dagger in her pocket, realising thatâs what Luke mustâve given to her.
Y/N sliced the scorpion, panting as the world become a confused hazed. She stabbed the creature over and over again until it was nothing but a gruesome corpse of a once terrifying bug.
Y/N limped towards the water but she stumbled, falling to her knees. The toxin was spreading through her blood quickly. She desperately reached out a hand for the creek water, knowing it could possibly heal her. Making it in time to camp would be impossible with her blurring eyesight and inability to walk properly. Sheâd have to drag her stung leg behind her.
Y/N clawed her way towards the water before her body gave in to the poison. Her limbs grew numb and they refused to move.
Y/N heard the loud noise of bushes rustling and Percy burst into the clearing, Annabeth and a few Apollo kids following close behind.
âY/N!â He shouted, his voice deafened by the ringing in her ears. She felt dizzy and the world spun in slow-motion as the Apollo healers turned Y/N on her back. Percy kneeled beside her, holding her hand tightly.
âSheâs been stung. We donât have much time. Feed her the nectar.â
Black dots swarmed around in her vision. She could see Annabeth yelling at her but she heard no voices as she let her head loll to the side and she finally succumbed to sleep, not knowing if she would wake up again.
Y/N stirred as the harsh light peeked through the thin curtains of the infirmary. She lightly groaned, shifting around to get more comfortable. Her senses were slowly coming back and she could finally hear again.
âY/N?â Percy was at her side in an instant. She smiled up at him.
âHe really stole the bolt⊠didnât he?â She whispered. Percy slowly nodded.
âYeahâŠâ
Lukeâs betrayal would be hard to endure for both the Poseidon siblings and Annabeth. He was beloved by most of the camp and he threw it all away for one pitiful shot at glory.
âIâm sorry, Y/N. I know you loved him.â Percyâs grip on her hand tightened.
A small laugh slipped past Y/Nâs lips. âI guess I did⊠but he didnât love me back. Or maybe he did and I simply wasnât enoughâŠâ
Lukeâs love had ever been pure or innocent. There was always a catch to it. He was obsessive with her, constantly ensuring that no other guys talked to Y/N. At least, not the ones that posed a threat.
A part of Y/N would always miss Luke but she could feel relief wash over her body because she no longer had to endure his lashing-out anger and sadness anymore.
She had escaped his cruel clutches and until they met again, most likely on a battlefield with their swords pressed up against each otherâs throats, she could live in peace.
However, happiness never lasted long for demigods. âGet some rest.â Percy uttered as he stepped out of the infirmity. It was late at night and the last Apollo kid had just finished her daily rounds at checking the patients.
Y/N quietly sighed as she leaned her head back, her eyelids fluttering closed. The floorboards creaked but she paid it no mind. All the cabins squeaked, even the Aphrodite one.
Y/N felt drowsy under the influence of the medicine she had been given and she fell asleep in no time. Her long awaited rest didnât last for long, though, when she awoke with a loud gasp.
She was outside. In a shallow river. Her clothes stuck to her body and she spat out a mouthful of water. Y/N shivered, rubbing her arms as a sorry attempt to generate warmth.
From the shore, she heard a familiar laugh. It pierced her soul and Y/N stiffened, her breath trembling. Luke sat not even a meter away, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He saw her petrified face and it fuelled a sadistic need inside of him.
âI changed my mind, sweetheart.â Those words from him felt like poison to Y/N. âI got permission to keep you around as long as you donât get into trouble.â
Luke inched forward and Y/N tilted away, trying to scramble rearward. Her back hit a large rock and she quivered, realising she was trapped between a boulder and Luke. Her former lover was approaching her quickly and she didnât have time to react before he was kneeled in front of her, not caring how his clothes got soaked.
He gently grasped Y/Nâs chin, an action that contrasted his aggressive approach back at camp. He tilted her head up so that she was forced to stare at him and sent her another sickeningly sweet smile.
âDid you miss me, sweetheart?â He whispered in her ear. His hands felt gross on her skin but her body refused to move. She knew she wouldnât get far with her injured leg and weakened body. âBecause I missed you terribly.â
His lips captured Y/Nâs in a long kiss and for millisecond, she forgot all his wrongdoings. She almost melted before she came back to her senses.
As Luke pulled away, Y/N sank further into the river like it would save her from whatever callous and vicious act Luke was going to perform.
Her whole body shook, and not just from the cold, as she found herself cornered in Lukeâs suffocating embrace once again after fighting so long to get out.
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#luke castellan#luke castellan x you#annabeth chase#greek mythology#luke castellan pjo#grover underwood#percy jackson show#zeus pjo#grover pjo#pjo show#rick riordan#percy jackson fanfiction#luke castellan x reader#camp half blood#angst#manipulation#mad woman#chiron pjo#apollo pjo
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summary: yandere Villain Izuku thinking about you and reader giving yandere vibes as well
warnings: yandere themes, smut if you squint
an: first time writing yandere-
Drabble
art by starry: find here
You trusted him so much. He could easily kill you. But he would never.
Truth was, Izuku Midoriya was in love with you. Maybe borderline obsessed.
You were just so pretty, sweet, and overall perfect in his eyes. He kept telling himself that no one deserved you. Except him.
And it angered him, seeing you cry when your no good dick boyfriends hurt you.
But, surely you must appreciate him. After all, it was no accident your ex ended up dead, seemingly exploded to death.
But he waited. Waited for you to return his love. And gosh, he was impatient.
You two were close. Practically lovers. Always snuggled up together, and you always scratched his scalp just right.
You bandaged his wounds with your delicate hands, not minding getting his blood or someone elseâs blood on yours.
He loved those moments.
You always told him that no matter what he did, you would never leave him. You didnât care he was a villain.
And he loved you for it. If anyone hurt you, he would rip their vocal cords out.
Long nights spent talking, listening in pure adoration.
You were just as loopy as him. He could see it in your eyes.
That slightly unhinged look when a fellow villain tried to flirt with him.
But you never stepped out of line, never socked that woman in the face for attempting something. (That frankly, was never going to happen. He only had eyes for you)
And finally, finally, you returned his love. Or perhaps you had simply waited till you were sure that he wanted you.
When he finally had you under him, under his control, (or did you have him under control?) sinking his length bit by bit inside your inviting cunt, he knew that he would never let you go.
You were his.
And he was yours.
@candiiee 2024
Dekutober prompts by @getstarried
Taglist: @dokidokidraft @mo0nforme
#candiiee writes#villian deku#dekutober#mha#izuku midoriya#boku no hero academia#bnha#my hero academia#mha deku#mha izuku#bnha izuku#villian au#yandere bnha x reader#yandere#deku x reader smut#deku x reader#midoriya izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#izuku x reader#izuku x you#mha x female reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader
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more bff mark please i beg of youuuuuyuy
bff!mark headcanons + extra â !
i havenât done these yet + i think maybe i would like to give more context/background to bff mark? i am not sure haha. mdni, somno mentioned, stalking, yandere(? i am not too well versed on this), suggestive, lowk incel behaviour if u squint, lmk if u think i missed anything, this is kind of rushed!
i feel like he definitely has glasses⊠has to wear them, but doesnât. he always either forgets or doesnât want to, complains about them leaving red marks on his nose bridge when you ask why. starts wearing them a little more occasionally when you comment on them being cute, even if the frames were a little too thick. he settled on contact lenses when he started high school. i also think that people forget that mark is a NERD!! we have all seen how geeky he was when he went to comicon with amber.
gets nosebleeds quite frequently. they started to get worse when you dressed in less and less clothing during the hot summers, loses his marbles when you show up in a white shirt. at first, he would try to claim that all of the times he had thrown water onto you were accidents; starts telling you that he wants to have a water fight. it was summer after all and you both wouldnât be in your 20s forever. you could still get away with being just a little bit irresponsible.
has a reddit that he retreats to whenever you get a new boyfriend. complains to his audience of literally two strangers about how heâd been in the friendzone for as long as he could remember, makes threats towards the men that you date on the internet using sock puppet accounts. uses those same accounts to target you, sends you pictures of your address and tells you things that only YOU could know. this seems to work in his favour more often than not; youâd call him in a panic and heâd be right there, patting your back and holding you as you sobbed about your creepy cyber stalker with the knowledge that it was himself. on the topic of that, he STALKS your socials. he has an album in his camera roll dedicated to candid pictures he has taken/found of you.
likes to watch you sleep. we all know this. he also likes to touch you in your sleep, likes the fact that youâre so trusting and would never suspect your best friend of doing such things to you. he gets off on the sort of power dynamic it puts you both in, likes the thrill of wether youâll wake up or not and catch him in the act. he just wants to make sure youâre okay, he promises!
gets super clingy and whiny when you have other friends over or when youâre hanging around other people, hates it when he can hear you laughing at other peoples jokes.
âbut we have plans todayâŠ!â he almost pouted at you when he had woken up to find you already dressed and finishing up your makeup in his little mirror. mark had panicked when heâd opened his eyes and couldnât feel you anywhere next to him on the mattress. when you stayed over usually youâd be asleep until the afternoon, that was when mark would shake you conscious with a cup of coffee in his hand that heâd make for you. you only chuckled at him, keeping your hand steady as you drew the wings of your eyeliner. who were you getting all dolled for? why didnât you get dolled up for him the same way?
âwe have plans for later. i canât bail again, i already didnât go yesterday because i came to stay with you, theyâre all gonna think iâm a no-show.â you said back, eyes flickering to the left and the right, trying to see if you had gotten your eyeliner even. âwhen you say it like that it makes it sound like you were forced to come over.â he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to disguise his jealousy with a lighthearted joke that didnât feel like a joke to him. the vibes in the room seemed off, almost as if tension was building. you gave him a look, stomping over to where he laid in bed and placed your head right next to his, staring into his eyes.
âitâs only for a couple hours while i go shopping. plus, i need you to head over to my house, take the chicken out the freezer before weâre eating at burger-mart again.â you were so close. your face was only a few inches away from his, he couldâve kissed you. he wanted to. âyou remember where the spare key is? right under the plant pot?â you questioned, moving away from him to observe yourself in the mirror. in his mind, you had gotten all dressed up and pretty for him and him only. âmeet me back at mine for six-ish. do you want me to get you anything?â mark almost shot up out of his bed when you had said that. six?? ish??? that could mean youâd be out for later! ââsix-ishâ?â he groaned, glancing at his twenty four hour clock. 11:35. you couldnât possibly be shopping for the whole day, that definitely meant that youâd be out out.
mark knew where your spare house key was, and it wasnât underneath the plant pot. it sat in his top drawer under a mess of his clothes. that wasnât your spare key, it was his key. his own personal key, given to him by you. he hated when you went out of town but loved the fact that heâd have free reign over your room. âchicken out the freezer, six pm sharp-â he started, moving the cover off of his body before you shook your head, correcting him, âsix-ish. iâm not sure when iâll be back.â you smiled, mark wanted to throw up. he couldnât believe that it had gotten to the point where he wanted to physically be sick when you told him you wanted to hang out with others.
heâs extremely overprotective of you. almost always by your side, people have started to think that youâre dating him. mark gets so happy he feels like he might pop when youâre walking through the mall together and someone trying to sell something addresses you as âthe lovely coupleâ. he relishes in little moments like that, cutting the part where you would tell the person that you were just friends completely out of his brain.
heâs made you break up with a few of your boyfriends. or rather, heâs made them break up with you. aside from terrorising your partners (past and present) through the internet, as soon as he had gotten his powers he had started terrorising them in real life, too. you just thought that all of the guys you dated had a serious case of leaving your dates and finding their cars crushed like a soda can, their houses being ransacked and near enough destroyed when they decided that it was time to have a second date, regardless of the car.
mark loves it when itâs just you and him, no room left for other people. he loves it when youâre alone, his head in your lap, your nails stroking along his scalp as you both kept your eyes on the screen, markâs mind distant from whatever you were watching as he bathes in the soft pets you gave him. heâd keep anyone away from you if it meant that itâd just be you and him together forever.
heâs not stupid, he knows that your friends donât like him. he had supersonic hearing for fucks sake, he caught what one of your friends had said about him when he had walked away from the table you were sitting at to put his stuff away in his dorm room. âheâs so⊠weird.â âare you really okay with him touching you like that?â âheâs dick repellent.â and mark would grit his teeth behind the wall he walked by with his fists clenched. he wanted to tear them all in half. âif you have a problem with him, then i have a problem with you guys.â youâd respond jokingly, though had all intentions of cutting them off if they were to double down. heâd blush, holding his face in his hands, suddenly absolved of all of the anger he held.
debbie refers to you as his girlfriend when itâs just him and her, giggling at his sudden nervousness. he wished you were his girlfriend, dreamt of the day he could roll over in the mornings and kiss you awake, holding you close to his chest⊠instead of rolling over to your sleeping form, debating wether he had enough time to touch you before youâd wake up slowly, eyelashes fluttering awake.
mark loved your room, it smelled just like you. it felt just like you, felt as if he was breathing you in and looking right into your soul. entering your home and walking up the stairs straight towards your bedroom, heâd flop down face first onto your bed, inhaling deeply before checking the time on his phone. 5:25. youâd be home soon, hopefully. heâd completely forgotten your instructions, he was supposed to have left his house to take the chicken out of the freezer as soon as you had gone in the early afternoon. heâd stayed home to go through the dirty laundry, looking for the pair of panties you had taken off the night before so he could stand with the shower running, your underwear wrapped around his dick as he jerked off with them, mumbling to himself about the things that he would do to you if only given the chanceâŠ
âmark?â you called, leaving your shopping bags in the hall while you closed the door, locking it behind you. you went to check the kitchen, looking for the familiar shape of the chicken on the side, rolling your eyes when you realised that it wasnât there. maybe he wasnât even here! you didnât mind too much, he had probably forgotten. youâd almost jump out of your skin when you entered your room, not expecting your friend to be on your bed, laying on his stomach, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he snored ever so quietly. he looked cute, hand folded under one of your pillows with his hair all messy, his eyebrows furrowing occasionally in his sleep. your hand hovered over his head, stroking his hair back, âmaaarkusssâŠâ youâd say in a sing-song voice, grinning when he looked up at you. mark sat up, the side of his face a little wet from drool, your pillow had a wet patch from where heâd slept.
âyou can sleep on that pillow tonight, then.â you laughed, pointing to where he had salivated on your pillow. mark grumbled something about you getting makeup patches all over his pillows and he still slept on them, yawning and stretching before he looked over to his phone, tapping the screen to look at the time. 8:47. 8:47..!? he looked over to your window, noticing that the sky had started to dim. he then jumped up, panic settling in, âi- the chicken, freezer- iâm so sorry- how long did you let me sleep for?â he stuttered, walking towards your bedroom door to head downstairs, âitâs okay, weâll just get takeout again. my parents left some cash for looking after the place while theyâre away.â you sat at your mirror, mark breathing a sigh of relief as he sat back on your bed, watching you wipe off your makeup, âalso, iâve just gotten back. iâm sorry i was late, you mustâve gotten tired waiting on me, huh?â you rubbed your face with the makeup wipes, messily piling them up on your desk as you used them, youâd throw them away after you were done.
mark almost snaps right there, you said six-ish. it was almost nine. he felt betrayed in a way, like you had lied to him. he had to recuperate for a second, remembering that you had a life of your own, you were your own person. but it wasnât fair. he wanted nothing more than for you to be yourself, but he wanted you for his own. this was so painful. âwhat happened to six..ish..?â he asked, tilting his head at you. you looked at him from your mirror, eyes meeting with his, âfunny story, actually. can you believe that i had to walk back here, all the way from the mall? nobody had a ride! the cars were full..!â oh. so thatâs why you wanted your makeup off as soon as possible, you had near enough sweated it all off walking back. you smelled good, natural. he wished you had worn a tighter shirt today, he wouldâve gone crazy seeing the wet patches below your boobs from your sweat. he had expected you to tell him that you had gone to one of your friends houses. this was a pleasant surprise.
âyou shouldâve called me- we couldâve flown back. we havenât done that in a while, i miss it.â he missed the way you clung onto him, face buried in the crook of his neck with your legs wrapped around his waist. âi didnât want to bother you. you couldâve been out doing hero shit.â you responded, standing up from your desk and opening your drawer, pulling out your pajamas. a spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of matching shorts. âyou could never bother me.â he mumbled, eyes fixed on you as you walked out of your room to the bathroom to get changed. âthatâs really soppy, grayson!â you called from the other room, his face red when he realised that you had heard him.
he gives into âpeer pressureâ a lot. and by peer pressure i mean that he sees you doing something and wants to partake. you smoked a little pot in college? mark wanted to try. you wanted to do endless shots at a party? mark would be stumbling back to your dorm room with you. he wanted to be cool for you, even if that meant making himself look like a lightweight.
i will be adding more to this, this was just something small until i can get my head together and finally rewrite my longer fics!! for those of you who followed for my grayson&grayson fic, you can unfollow if you like! nothing against you, you are welcome back when i do rewrite and release it!
#đŹ sparkie is typingâŠ#mark grayson x reader#dark blog#mark grayson smut#invincible x reader#mark grayson#invincible smut#bff!mark grayson#fem reader#dark content
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fmokx(envy)
Part 2 to TĂprrte
Naâvi dictionary:
Tawtute - human, skyperson
Sevin- pretty
Summary: Neteyam finally gets you alone
Word count: 4k
Warnings: jealousy, stalking, yandere vibes hate fucking(if you squint), dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, creampie, oral(m receiving), face fucking, mild dub-con, overstimulation, cucking, angst
A/N: Neteyam is unhinged in this one, I hope ya'll enjoy
  All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ minors dni
It had been a week since your time with Loâak in the cove and needless to say you were still on cloud nine. You two had been spending a lot more time together since then, deciding that you could start showing your affection for each other in public instead of in secret as you had been previously. No one had seemed to noticeâŠ.âŠ.no one except Neteyam. Every Time he saw you with his brother, his blood ran cold. He saw everything, from the stolen glances that lasted only seconds, to the lingering touches, down to the way that you two seemed to always go missing around the same time and it made him sick. He didnât know what this feeling was. It traveled from the pit of his stomach and wrapped an ice-cold hand around his heart like a vice.Â
Was it envy? No, it couldnât be. Neteyam couldn't be envious and besides, what did he have to be envious of his baby brother for? Loâak had never done anything that warranted Neteyam being envious. No thisâŠ..this feeling was jealousy. What was that tawtute saying his dad used to say to him as a kid? âBeware the green-eyed monster?â Whatever that meant, he felt it whenever he watched you two. Loâak had snuck off to your tent early in the morning to spend time with you before he went on a hunting trip with their father. He wasnât going, Jake only ever took one of his sons hunting at a time and since Neteyam had gone the past few times, it was Loâakâs turn. Once they left heâd finally have the chance to have some alone time with you.Â
 ~(Y/n)âs pov~
You let out a small giggle as Loâak planted kisses all over your face. He had snuck out of his familyâs tent early this morning so that he would have a little time to spend with you before he was gone for most of the day hunting. He left a trail of kisses from your cheek down to the sweet spot on your neck. His kisses soon turned into nips and gentle sucks and soon your giggles turned into gasps and soft moans. âL-Loâak donât you have to get ready to leave soon?â You gasped between moans.Â
âIn a minute mama, thereâs something more important I wanna do before I go.â You let out a small gasp as you felt him put his hands on your hips and pull your bodies closer, his hands on your hips pulling them downwards causing your ass to grind backward into his clothed cock. Reaching a hand behind you, you grab the back of his head as he sucks on a particularly sensitive part of your neck. His hands soon found themselves running across your body, one coming up and sliding under your top to play with your pert nipples and the other snaking between your thighs to play with your clothed sex.Â
âB-baby you need to go get ready before-â You bite back a moan as two of his fingers find their way under the band of your loincloth and begin playing with your clit. He was making slow deliberate circles on your clit, making sure to rub it a few times before sliding his fingers down to tease at your slit to gather some of your slick then moving them back up to rub at your clit again. âCâmon talk to me mama, before what?â He asks as he pinches and pulls at one of your nipples. âBefore someone comes looking for you and finds us like this.â You suck in a sharp inhale as you feel two of his fingers slide effortlessly inside you and begin pumping inside you slowly.Â
âLet them come then so I can show them just how good daddy is making you feel. Do you want that sevin? For me to show everyone how wet you get for me? But if you want me to stop I will '' As soon as he says that all his ministrations stop and his fingers immediately pull out of your soaked cunt. Your eyes, which had fluttered closed at this point, snapped open. âN-no Loâak, donât leave me like thisâŠpleaseâ Your voice came out as barely a whimper as you begged him to keep going. âCâmere then mama,â He says as he grabs your jaw with his free hand and turns your head slightly to pull you into a kiss, all the while his fingers plunge themselves back into your soaked cunt.Â
You let out a moan of ecstasy as he finger fucked you. Soon he was pulling his fingers out of your cunt again but before you could protest further, he was ripping both of your loincloths off and rubbing the fat head of his cock against your slit, gathering some lubrication before pushing the head into you. The hand that he had just been using to pleasure you moments before comes up and grabs the back of your leg and holds it up to get a better angle as he slides into you deeper.Â
You both moan as he slides into you inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside you. He readjusts his hold on the back of your leg and captures your lips in a kiss once again as he begins to move inside you. The pace he set at first was surprisingly slow, it was like he wanted to savor the way you felt around him before his pace picked up and he began fucking into like an animal. The pornographic moans you let out were muffled by his mouth covering yours, the kiss serving as a way to silence you while still letting him hear your beautiful voice.Â
 After he finds your sweet spot with little ease you break away from the kiss and throw your head back onto his shoulder in pleasure, all the while his name spilled from your lips between broken moans. You could feel yourself coming undone under him and couldnât keep it together much longer. âC-cumming , Iâm cum-â He gives you one particularly hard thrust that sends you over the edge. You moan and as you come around his length, the clenching and fluttering of your pussy sends him over the edge as well and he comes undone inside you, painting your walls white with his cum.Â
 He all but collapses against you and you two spend the next minute and a half recovering from what was surely the best quickie you two had ever had. Gently, he pulls out of you and goes to grab a rag for you. He comes back and begins to wipe the sweat from your face before folding the rag in half to help you clean up. You jump a bit at the feeling of the cold rag on your overstimulated cunt. After helping you clean up, you both get redressed and as you lay on your mat he gives you a final kiss. âMake sure you get some sleep yawne, you have a while before you have to be upâ You simply nod, too tired to argue, and watch as he exits your tent and heads to meet up with the rest of the hunting party.Â
~Later~Â
 To say you were tired was an understatement. You had spent the majority of your day helping Neytiri with various things around high camp and you were bone tired. Now all you wanted was to soak in the nice cool waters of the spring you had found. Making your way through the winding tunnels of the cave system, you eventually come upon the telltale vines covering the entrance and push them aside as you walk in. As you approach the water, you carefully strip and walk into the water until it's just above your knees. You shiver a little as you walk further into the water until it's just below your collarbone. A content sigh passes your lips as you relax into the water. This was the first time you were going to be alone todayâŠâŠ.or was it? Unknown to you, Neteyam was also there, waiting for you.
 After watching you for a few minutes he decided to make his move. Silently he removes his loincloth and walks into the water. Coming up behind you, he immediately wraps his hands around your waist and pulls your body flush to his chest. The suddenness of hands on you causes you to startle but you soon calm down as lips meet your cheek and travel down your neck. Believing the owner of the lips to be Loâak you relax into what you think is his embrace.Â
The kisses soon turn into him nipping and sucking at your neck as one of his hands comes up to massage your breast while the other snakes between your legs to rub at your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips and you let your head fall against his chest as he continues pleasing you. The hand that was once gently massaging your breast soon turns to pinching and pulling at your already hard nipples. Something felt wrong though, the movements were all right but something was off about them. Opening your eyes youâre met with Neteyamâs face.
 Quickly you push him off of you and cover yourself, a deep purple blush gracing your features. âN-neteyam what are you doing? What are you doing here?â You ask as you slowly back away from him. Neteyam doesnât look embarrassed or even worried that you found out it was him, instead, he just looks disappointed.Â
 âI was hoping that you wouldnât figure it out this fast. I wanted to make you orgasm at least once before I revealed myself.â His tone wasnât remorseful, he actually sounded upset. âPlease just let me explain,â He says as he approaches you.Â
 You take a step away from him the second he gets closer and in an attempt to soothe you he stops in his tracks. âIâll listen but please donât get any closer.â He nods his head in compliance before speaking again.Â
 âIâve had feelings for you for a while and just didnât know how to tell you. Last week I managed to get the courage to say something when I found you here with my brother. I know it was wrong but I couldnât help myself, especially after hearing how you moaned for him. You donât know how long I've dreamed of hearing you moan like that, to be the one making you moan.âÂ
 As he continued to explain, your brain was running a thousand miles a minute. Neteyam had seen you and Loâak together, he had heard your moans, he had seen his brother fucking you, he saw you come undone around his brother's cock. You felt sick listening to him but some part of you liked what he was saying. His confession had led to heat pooling between your legs. Your clit was throbbing in need of attention but you brushed off the feelings. Neteyam had pretended to be his brother to try and fuck you, and you werenât going to let that go so easily.Â
 He notices you backing away and begins approaching you again. â(Y/n) please? I know what I did was wrong but just give me one chance to prove that I can fuck you better than he can.â A deep frown settles onto your features and you keep backing away from him until you trip over your own feet as you near the edge of the spring. Neteyam wastes no time as he makes his way over to you in three quick strides and helps you up, pulling your body against him. He reaches a hand up to pull your face towards his. He pulled you so close that your noses were practically touching. You instinctively flinch as his lips hover above yours and he lets out a low growl at your actions.Â
 âPlease Nete, this is wrong. What about Loâak?â His grip on your face tightens at the mention of his brother's name.
 âFuck him, as far as Iâm concerned right now, my name is the only name that should be coming out of that pretty little mouth of yours. Iâm going to fuck you so hard that youâll only be able to scream my name from now on. Do you understand me?â
 You could only whimper in response and soon feel his lips roughly press against yours. As his lips moved against yours, you could feel his fangs occasionally graze your bottom lip. His tongue poked out from between his lips and shoved its way inside your mouth and began rubbing against yours.Â
The intensity of the kiss was making you dizzy and with no way to pull away, as his hand was firmly on the back of your head holding you in place, you had no choice but to hang onto him as he explored your mouth with his tongue. Just when you felt like you were going to pass out Neteyam pulls himself away from your lips a tail of saliva follows, still connecting your mouth to his. Your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath from that dizzying kiss, you were so busy trying to focus on breathing that you almost didnât catch Neteyam speaking.Â
 âOn your knees, now.â You barely had time to comply before he roughly shoved you to your knees. As you stare up at him, the hand that he was using to hold the back of your head comes to cup your cheek. As he cradles your face in his hand, his thumb comes out to gently run across your lips, eventually deciding to press against your bottom lip.Â
 âOpen.â He commands as his thumb presses harder against your lips. You comply by opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to stick his thumb inside your mouth, making sure to press it against your tongue.
 His face twists into one of surprise when, without prompting, you begin to suck on his thumb. Your warm and wet tongue runs across the digit, sending a shock through his system that settles directly in his groin. He lets out a small groan of approval as he presses his thumb harder against your tongue. While you continue to suck his thumb he grabs his cock and gives it a few lazy pumps as he watches you obediently suck his thumb.
 Deciding heâs had enough, he dislodges his thumb from your mouth and positions the fat purple head of his cock directly in front of your mouth, taking care to rub his precum-soaked tip across your lips. âCome on sevin, open that pretty little mouth of yours and give it the same treatment you just gave my thumb.â Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock.
It was the first time you had seen it and what you saw worried you. While both brothers were well endowed in both girth and length departments, what Loâak lacked in length Neteyam made up for. By your estimate, he was only a couple of inches bigger than his brother but those inches worried you, especially considering he was expecting you to put it inside your mouth.
 Neteyam noticed your hesitation and the look of discomfort on your face and let out a dark chuckle. âWhat's the matter, sevin? Never seen a cock this big? Donât worry, I plan to take good care of you, now open your mouth.â
Your lip quivered but you complied. No sooner than your lips had barely parted, he was already shoving most of his length inside your mouth. You could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, allowing him to use this as an opportunity to shove his cock the rest of his cock into your mouth. Both of his hands were now on the back of your head, pressing your nose firmly against his pelvis.
 He lets his head fall back and releases a low guttural groan as he feels your throat spasming around his length. You began to panic and struggle against his hold on you. You begin to push against his thighs in an attempt to dislodge yourself but it was no use, your actions did nothing but cause his grip on your head to turn painful
 âRelax sevin, the faster you relax, the faster Iâll let you breathe.â He lets out another groan as your throat spasms around his cock again. âFuuuccckkkk~ Youâre not even sucking it yet and Iâm already about to cum.â Somehow, you manage to relax just enough to allow yourself to take small breaths through your nose.
Once your throat stops spasming, Neteyam takes this as his sign to partially pull out of your throat. You didn't get a chance to breathe, however, because as soon as he pulls out heâs ramming it back down your throat. At this point, he wasnât even trying to make sure you could breathe as he begins to violently fuck your face. You could do nothing as you felt his cock repeatedly going down your throat, all you could do was brace your hands against his thighs and wait for him to finish.Â
 After what seemed like an eternity, his hips eventually still and he once again roughly presses your face against his pelvis as he cums down your throat. You could feel the thick ropes of his warm cum running down your throat and into your belly.
He holds you there for a few seconds to make sure you swallow it all, he releases his grip on your head. Assuming this is as good an opportunity as any, you push away from him and collapse onto the ground, gasping and coughing as your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.Â
 Neteyam doesnât give you much time to recover before heâs on you again, pinning you against the floor of the cove and kissing your neck once again. You let out a whimper as you feel his fingers on your, rubbing small quick circles into the sensitive nub.
You weakly grabbed his wrist in an attempt to stop him, but that only spurred him on. You harshly bit down on your lip in an attempt to stop the moans from pouring from your lips but you couldnât help the way your back arched off the ground under his touch. He smirked and his pace quickened as he felt the grip you had on his wrist tighten.Â
 âThatâs it yawne, I know youâre close so just go ahead and cum for daddy.â You didnât have much of a choice because soon after he whispered those words into your ear, he harshly bit down on your neck, sending you spiraling over the edge. He watched as you fell apart just from him rubbing your clit, he hadnât even gotten to the best part yet.Â
 As you lay there panting, you couldn't help the overwhelming sense of guilt clawing its way to the front of your brain. What would Loâak think if he saw you right now? Cumming from having your clit touched by his older brother. You had to end this and get away from him, maybe everything would get back to normal after you left this cove.Â
 âO-okay Neteyam, you got what you wanted, I want to go home now.â You say as you feebly try to sit up but your attempt is stopped by Neteyam pressing a hand against your chest.Â
 As you looked up at him through tired eyes, what you saw scared you. His eyes, instead of the pools of golden amber, were considerably darker. He had truly begun to scare you now. Tears began to well in your eyes. He silently grabbed the back of your legs with one hand and pushed them to your chest, with the other he pulled his cock and pushed it so that the head was pressing against you, a trust away from penetrating you.Â
 âN-Nete-â He silences you by swiftly capturing your lips in another sloppy kiss, leaving you dizzy and gasping for air once again when he pulls away. His lips are just barely hovering over yours as he speaks.Â
 âIâm not stopping until youâre cumming on my cock sevin. Iâm going to ruin this pussy of yours. When Iâm done with you, you wonât be able to think of anything but me the next time my baby brother fucks youâ A few tears roll down your face upon hearing his words.
He kisses them away before pulling his hips back and ramming himself inside of you, sheathing himself completely. A strangled moan leaves your mouth and your back arches off the ground when he enters you. He doesnât wait long to start fucking you though. The pace he sets is animalistic and as he beings fucking into you, your hands fly to his back in an attempt to hold onto something.Â
 As he fucked into you, you couldnât help the moans that slipped out of you. Despite everything, Neteyam fucking into you felt good. Your pussy was fluttering around his cock and causing him to groan into your ear. You could feel a familiar pressure building in your lower belly and didnât care that you were about to cum all over your boyfriend's older brother's cock.Â
 After a particularly hard thrust right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud moan. Sensing you were getting close, Neteyam started talking into your ear.Â
 âThat feel good sevin?â He asked, you could hear the smugness in his voice
 âN-NeteyamâŠpleaseâ
 âTell me how good it feels sevin,  tell daddy how good his cock feels inside this tight cunt of yoursâ He sent another hard thrust directly into your sweet spot that had you seeing stars and slurring
 âIt feels s-shooo goodâ You slurred, he was fucking you dumb and you couldnât care about anything else.Â
 âWhoâs pussy is this?â He asks with a growl. You bit down on your lip to suppress the moans spilling from your mouth after he asked this. You knew what he wanted you to say but you couldnât.Â
 He growls in irritation and begins to slow his pace until heâs practically motionless inside you. Whimpers leave your throat as your pussy clenches around his cock. You attempt to grind your hips into his, but he firmly holds your hips flush against his, preventing you from getting an ounce of friction.Â
 âNeteyamâŠplease, please keep going. I was so close.â You were on the verge of tears as you begged him to keep fucking you.
Neteyam roughly grabs your face in his hand and forces you to look at him as he speaks, his voice coming out as pure venom.Â
 âI told you sevin, Iâm going to ruin you for him. So whatever fucking illusion you have that youâre going to go back to him after this needs to end now. This pussy is mine now, Iâm going to be the only one that fucks you like this, understand?â
 You nod as much as you are able, and he releases his grip on your face. âNow Iâm going to ask you one more time. Whoâs. Pussy. Is This?âÂ
 Mustering all the courage you could manage, you shakily respond. â...y-yoursâŠâÂ
 âGood girl.â He chuckles and readjusts your hips before resuming his brutal pace. You let out a loud moan and throw your head back as his cock begins to abuse your sweet spot. The pressure from earlier returned, this time it was threatening to become your undoing.Â
 âGood girl~ Youâre such a good girl for daddy sevin.â Heâs practically purring into your ear as he pistons his hips into yours.Â
 âFuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckâŠcummming. Iâm coming!â You were moaning incoherently as his cock abused your sweet spot over and over, sending you over the ed for the second time
 He chuckled at your fucked out expression. âThatâs a good girl sevin, just like that, cum all over daddyâs cock~â His hips never stopped or slowed as he fucked you through your second orgasm.
 You whimpered as he continuously pounded your poor overstimulated pussy into oblivion.Â
 He let out a particularly loud groan into your ear and his thrusts became sloppy as he neared his release.Â
 âDaddyâs going to cum soon sevin. Do you want that? Do you want daddy to cum into this tight little pussy of yours?â
 You weakly whimpered in response, you werenât in any state to answer anything he asked of you. By now, he was fucking into you so hard that you could swear you feel the tip of his cock pressing against the entrance of your womb.Â
 âI hope youâre ready sevin. Because hereâŠthrustâŠitâŠthrustâŠcomes!!â His hands move from holding your legs down to your shoulders, as he pulls you down onto his cock. He throws his head back and lets out a low guttural moan as he releases inside you. You can feel his cum filling you up, and he gives a few more lazy thrusts before pulling out of you.Â
 As he pulls out and looks at you, his eyes soften. Your eyes are half closed and your chest is slowly heaving up and down. He can see the bruises he gave you already starting to form on both your arms and legs and a twinge of regret settles in his heart. He hadnât meant to be this rough with you but once he started he just couldnât stop himself.Â
 Gently, he picks you up and carries you both into the water. As the cool water hits your skin, you begin to whimper. âShhh, it's alright sevin. Iâm just cleaning you off and afterward, Iâm going to take you home okay?â You give a weak whimper in response. It's not like you could do much else so you let him clean you off.
 ~~~~~
 After Neteyam had cleaned you off, he carried your tired body back to your tent and laid you down on your mat, covering you with a blanket. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and as he moves to leave you weakly call out to him.
âLoâak?â After all that he had done, he had wished that you were calling out for him and not his brother.
 âYes sevin, I just have something to do so Iâll be back okay? He says as he takes one last look at you and exits your tent, making his way towards the entrance of highcamp to greet the naâvi coming back from their hunt. As he helps out he can see his brother brother sneaking off to your tent. The icy cold hand of jealousy comes clawing back and wraps its hand around his heart again.
 One day you will be his, even if that means breaking his little brother's heart
Eta: Please check out this post!
Taglist: @pandorxxx @samistars @neteyamsyawntu @xylianasblog @oasiswithmyg hope ya'll enjoy part 2
#avatar#atwow#reader insert#atwow x reader#atwow x you#avatar x you#loak x reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam x you#loak x you
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Listen I know the wall husbands heads are full of concrete but I'm interested in what you could do with a black templar
Maybe having a cleric darling (Thinking more of a lay person vs someone like a sister of battle) so there can be some delicious religious subtext
But I also know some black templars are very much into seeing when normal baseline humans can overcome the odds and rise above with their own zeal.
Maybe she isn't a combatant but by the God Emperor she will help out however she can even if it is just passing him boltgun magazines.
I got ideas for Black Templars but they're all over the place! Maybe you can make more sense of my ramblings and since it's still on the brain it could be Yandere or not just however you can make a Black Templar with a Darling work
[ đžđđđđđžđđđđ'đ đžđđđđđđđđđ | đŹđ3 ]
Author's Note: So... I went apeshit. I apologize. I just fucking love doing religious subtext and whatnot. Also the frail maiden with her knight. Combining them? Awooga. Like this is my dream prompt. I hope you enjoy.
Summary: His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.
Relationships: Unnamed Black Templar/Fem!Reader (there aren't pronouns used but the lady/knight vibe is super intense)
Warnings: A smidge lewd but not NSFW, Vague traditional gender roles-like talk (being gentle/needing to be protected etc), Religious under(over)tones, Forbidden romance undertones, Vague yandere/yandere beginnings, Armor kink if you squint, Brief mentions of blood and murder, General 40kness
Word Count: 2209 oops uwu
Ceramite boots thud against the floor like the thunder overhead, echoing in the high, vaulted ceilings.
He hears a tile crack underneath his right boot as he shifts his weight onto it mid-step.
He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.
'Leave him, heâs off to go for his prayers, and to stalk the locals.â
His one battle brother had laughed at the otherâs comment, as he left them all behind to return to the cathedral. It's far from his first time here, in these sanctified halls. He finds himself returning here after almost every patrol, every outing, every moment alone.
His armor shifts with his movement, and he rolls his left shoulder during his walk. Heâs had the armor fixed after a stray round hit him in the shoulder, but it still feels off. Like the motion is ever so slightly delayed in comparison to his other interface ports.
He'll get it looked at again. For now he has a different pursuit.
Itâs the dead of the night, moon high in the sky as he walks through the nave past pews filled with nothing but air. At this time of night he knows it will only be you here, keeping candles lit and rolling scrolls. A stray servoskull might flutter past every now and again, but other than that, you remain in complete solitude.
No distractions, no needless fluff. You're always busy, fluttering about, making yourself useful where you can. You aren't able to fight, not this threat, but your obedience in cleaning armor- weapons when an Astartes allows- and other such duties has earned you enough to stay where your fellows have left.
Many of the other human refugees have been shipped off at this point, to become the Militarium's logistical problem. You and a few others however have earned your keep. At least in the eyes of the Black Templars.
You'll be far safer here than in a Militarium camp stuffed in with hundreds to thousands of others; Like animals waiting to be shipped off world.
You'll be far safer here with him.
There you are. He can spot you from across the cathedral, and a part of him wonders why it has such an effect on him. His hearts beat faster and his neck tenses; It feels like how he does whenever he's about to fight, but also distinctly different. It almost makes him feel like he's sick from an illness he can't explain.
The moment you hear him however, knowing the sound of an astartes this late and this far away from his brothers could only be him, your back straightens. You've been leaning over for awhile, and your body makes uncooperative cracks as you stand at his approach.
He stops in front of you, at the bottom of the ambulatory steps that rise up to the main altar. You stand at the top of them, quickly moving aside so he can come closer. When he does, you can feel his gaze through the lens of his helmet. It always feels heavy, even when his helmet isn't tilted you way you swear you can feel whenever his eyes are on you.
With both hands he unseals his helmet with a soft hiss, grasping it by the rim before handing it to you. Itâs almost too heavy for your grip, but you manage to hold it close to your chest and avoid dropping it. Meanwhile he takes a knee, elbow on his knee as he drops his head in prayer.
His chainsword shifts on his back, over top of a long, tattered cape that's stained with mud and blood at the bottom hem. Astartes don't leave their armor during war, and so the cloth holds the weeks long stench of iron and rotting flesh. It simply burns however, until a few minutes later and then you can no longer smell. For the best, more than likely.
The cathedral is cast in complete silence, his shoulders shifting underneath plates of ceramite. He always is whenever he prays, unlike his brothers in the few times you've seen them. Perhaps it's just a quirk of his. Or maybe they're the odd ones.
Then again, they aren't the ones visiting an empty cathedral in the dead of night, only to meet a single person. Over and over again.
When he rises, he gently takes his helmet from your hands and latches it onto his belt. You speak up for the first time since he appeared.
"Have you made good progress out there? The weather seems to only be getting worse."
He looks down at you; His short, hastily chopped hair dry and pressed in odd places from the pressure of his helmet. It's mostly dry now, but you can tell it was wet not long ago. He must've taken his helmet off in the rain and was instantly soaked to the bone.
"The Emperor watches over us. We will prevail despite the deluge."
Said deluge batters on the tall glass windows of the cathedral, and thunder cracks not much later. The sound gives you a momentary jolt. This particular storm has been going all day, but the area has been battered with rainstorms for weeks now on and off. It might not slow them down, but you can see dried chunks of mud where they've had to trudge through it to progress. Most of it is washed away on him now, the rain having cleaned his armor significantly.
Your hands grasp each other tightly, no longer having his helmet to act as some sort of grounding.
"I tried to pray like you do, this morning." His eyes noticeably brighten ever the slightest, as your voice echos in the empty cathedral. "I wanted to pray to the Emperor that you stayed safe out there."
You don't know if he finds it amusing; But the corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly anyways.
"Then pray for our victory, not our safety. What matters is that we succeed," He states.
You hear the mechanics in his armor shift as he leans slightly more on his left leg than right. It's like the armor is simply an extension of himself, and you suppose it is.
He is the first astartes you've even seen, so your knowledge is sparse. A small part of you has so many questions you'd wish to ask him, not knowing if he'd even entertain you with an answer.
You're fascinated by him; You wonder if he thinks the same of you. The way he acts lends you to think so, but you don't know how to feel about it.
In the corner of your eye you notice movement, and turn to the right just a bit and see someone walking across the nave. But when they catch sight of you and one of the Black Templars, the scurry out of the main hall like death was on their heels.
It isn't the first time someone has made a conscious effort to avoid you, now that you have an astartes taking such an interest in you. People are keen to spend as little time around them as possible- as despite them being the primary source protecting you all, they have more than displayed their fickle nature. One misspoken word and you could be gone. It's happened before. You know of a few faces that have disappeared with little a word.
You must look away from him for too long, as suddenly his armored hand grasps your jaw, turning your face back to him. The awkward angle due to his height makes your neck ache, and you grasp at the seams of his gauntlet for any sort of support.
"Are you going to try and run like they did?"
He says, watching you like he's looking for something more than a simple answer.
You wonder what he sees. If he notices the way your heart has begun to race in fear and something else, as he overtakes your vision. That something else was only for those rare moments of solitude where your reasoning left you, and your mind wandered to areas it shouldn't. If you'd known any better, you might've thought such things were blasphemous, or something of the sort.
Suddenly, you remember that he's waiting for an answer; You watch as the scars on his face move when he shifts his jaw.
"No."
He takes a step closer and with no more room your back presses against the altar just behind you. You risk nearly bending over it from how close he is, his dominant leg taking root just close enough that your legs have to part to let his knee past.
The shadow of the window mullions decorate the back of his armor, the light making the shadows against his face even harsher. You can even see the shadows of large rain droplets against his pauldrons, sliding down as if they've actually fallen on him. You can hear them hit the glass as the wind whistles outside and rattles the glass.
You watch him wondering; His eyes and face are completely unreadable. Astartes are so stoic, any little emotion is held invisible deep within themselves. Trying to figure out what he's thinking is an impossible task, though it's clear the interest he has in you is no longer just curiosity. That thought makes your heart pound against your chest as if it's trying to escape, your blood hot.
His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.
It feels like he's toying with you; Experimenting with something new as he watches the way your soft skin gives under his armor. Your hands and gentle skin have faint crumbles of candle wax and ink on them from your work, as they grasp his armor.
You're terrified. You want more of him. You'll be happy to burn if that's what it requires.
"You'll come with me, when we are finished here."
You whisper his name, telling him yes as if you were foolish enough to think you had a choice in the matter. No one but him is here to hear it.
If someone was you wouldn't be able to see them from the way his massive armored form overtakes almost all of your vision, swallowing you in a sea of shadow and pitch black armor. They would see as he leans down, his thumb leaving your lips. You can feel his hot breath on your skin. The way he almost seems to suffocate you with how much of his body looms over you, just to get close. You can hear your own heartbeat so you just know he can, his eyes dilated and nearly total black.
Your back hurts pressing against the edge of the altar, feeling vulnerable underneath his unreadable stare. The fabric of your clothing bunches in places and rises up on your body, catching on the seams of his leg plates. His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.
His lips hover over yours, brushing as if he's so thoroughly detailing every step of this. Savoring each moment, or perhaps just toying with you. Watching the way a human so much smaller than him writhes under his grip at his mercy. You want to finish it, but the hand clamped around your jaw won't allow you, as much as you want to yearn and beg and plead to k-
'Brother. Return from toying with the refugees, the chaplain has returned with an update.'
Suddenly audible is a deep voice shaken by vox distortion emanating from his helmet; His head turns ever so slightly in it's direction. The bow of his upper lip brushes over yours as he does so. His brow furrows and he seems visibly irritated, interrupted during the worst possible time. You are as well, though it's more of desperation as you try to silence the way the your body aches for just him.
But as quick as it had begun it all ends, as he rises to his full height and removes his hand from your jaw. It complains with the promise of a hefty bruising, as he uses the same gauntlet to one handed slip his helmet back onto his head.
You can feel him stare at you even through the lenses, as he shifts in his armor and walks past where you stand splayed against the altar, clothes a mess. Your legs wobble as if about to give out from underneath you without his support, a weight like a rock in your lower belly.
He walks down the ambulatory in silence and leaves you alone once more, but you know it won't be for long.
#if you want me to name him and design him feel free to say! but for now you can make him the astartes ken doll of your dreams#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#black templar x reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting
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yandere chan
summary: once again, basically sub yandere chan x dom reader hcs
a/n: there is many stalkerish topics and toxic behaviours in this (so read at your own risk), there is also mentions that could be read as a strap or the real thing-whichever you prefer
i do not condone this sort of behaviour, this is purely for amusement purposes and should not be done in real life nor' should be normalized
Did you notice Chan from the very beginning?
probably, yeah.
he made himself very apparent as the shy, cute, guy in a few of your classes. the boy next door typa vibes
you were friends with a bunch of his friends, he was friends with a bunch of your friends, so you knew of him though you never really hung out with him in any type of one-on-one kind of situation
was he completely gorgeous and so very adorable and look so entirely fuckable?
yeah. yeah he did.
but that was just it, you wanted to approach him, ask him out, bring him home at the end of the night
but he seemed too...innocent, too naive, too virgin-y
the golden boy
and you didn't want to corrupt that
you didn't realize how completely wrong you were until later on
completely unaware of the fact that he's had your entire schedule memorized from the get-go
that the reason anyone you've talked to never called you back and avoided you if you saw them again was because of Chan
he isn't the type to ask you out, babyboy's too shy and self-conscious for that,
instead he'll stalk and watch and hope that you'll get the clue soon enough
as he waits he'll probably steal your things, little trinkets, clothing like hoodies and shirts, perhaps some underwear if he's feeling extra confident
but he always feels really bad when he takes those
he has photos upon photos in his camera roll of you. enough to make a folder labelled just your name
most of them are not even remotely sexual,
some of you laughing with your friends-stolen from your friends's instagram account, from your instagram account
some of you smiling widely with your classmates
some that have been group pictures that his friends have sent to him
some of them he's taken himself, secretly snapping a few when you're not aware
he has so many, his own personal collection of just you and as gross as he feels when he does it-he'll look at them and get off
he can't touch himself, never does. he feels too dirty to do that, feels dirty and guilty about the entire situation altogether
but sees you and he just can't help himself
can't help but imagine how good you'd look standing over him, telling him what to do.
making him hump your leg
it so humiliating, so revealing and degrading as you look down at him unimpressed, the disappointment in your eyes making him whimper
you'd pet him too, pushing his hair back
"such a dirty dog; getting off on my leg like you're in heat, you poor thing~"
you'd tease him and make fun of him, bully him until he cums, melting against your leg out of breath
a mess all over your leg
you'd click your tongue at him, rolling your eyes before forcing his head down to lick up his mess
the fantasy gets so intense sometimes he feels like it's really happening
he's so hard and needy, body aching to be touched but too guilty to do it
so his go-to is humping his pillows or his bed. your clothes a victim with either his face buried into the fabric, smelling your perfume or your cologne or your natural scent
or he fucks into the clothing, obsessing over the thought of you catching him in the act
his face flushed, guilt stewing in his gut, eyes locked on yours. even if they're only through the screen of his phone
he begs and begs and begs to the phantom of you, his lust-addled brain conjuring up images, fake realities that aren't real to feed into his delusions that he could be yours.
it's only when you go on a date with someone that he decides he needed to do something
a guy from your class. decently handsome and looked kind of like Chan when you squinted slightly
it would all look the same, really, in the dark of your room as you made him moan under your hands.
the date goes well. but maybe that's because he has an aussie accent and when you look just beside his ear you can pretend it's someone else
you end the night a good note too, kissing him on the cheek and making him promise that you'll go out again sometime
Channie does not like that
he's been watching all night, hatred boiling in his gut, glaring hole into the guy's head, wishing that he'd drop down dead in the middle of the restaurant
he threatens him as soon as you're inside, telling him that he needs to leave you alone or else
spoiler alert: it doesn't work and you go out with him again
and again
Chan doesn't like that. not one bit.
you get upset when you're stood up by him for the first time after only three dates, checking your phone every few seconds as you sit in your apartment, waiting for him to pick you up
he never does
you call him and text him but he doesn't reply
awhile later you see that he blocked you on everything
he never does talk to you again and you wonder why
for the rest of the night you sulk, heading to a nearby bar, having a few drinks until someone taps you on the shoulder
turning around to find Chan smiling sheepishly
asking if you need some company for the night
you accept, eagerly ordering a few more so that he can catch up to you
which ends up with him getting extremely drunk
turns out he has a very low alcohol tolerance. it also turns out that he becomes extremely horny when he's drunk
extremely drunk, extremely horny and extremely happy
because it's the night Chan finally gets what he's been wanting for such a long time.
panting and clutching at your shoulders in the dark corner of the bar, sloppily making out with you
whimpering about how he's dreamed about this for years, muttering between kisses how he can't believe this is happening
opening his legs for you in such a public place-you briefly wonder if you were wrong about him being innocent all this time
until he tells you that he is a virgin, not that he hasn't had offers, it's just that he wanted to save it for you
he wanted you and only you to take his innocence,
to hell if it's in a dirty pub right next to the toilets, if there are eyes watching him-watching you, that you're as drunk as he is and still sad about being ghosted
it needs to be now
he cries with every thrust of you inside of him, his walls clenching making it harder for you
every little touch feels like it's overloading his senses, making his head feel fuzzy and the room feel spinny
and while it might be the alcohol that's causing it, it also might be the need he's had ever since the first time he saw you
the want and the desperation and the high he feels after everything he's done, it's finally happening
he whispers a lot of things to you that night
things that scare you, things that turn you on, things that make you angry at him and things that make you wanna ruin him even more
he confesses every one of his dirty secrets to you
he asks you then if you could still love him after all this, if you would still want him
and to his surprise, you don't get that angry, you do however, expect him to make up for his...wrongdoings
babyboy spends months at your beck and call, doing whatever you please whenever you please
trying to prove himself to you, that after all he's done he deserves to be with you
making him doing humiliating things like wearing a vibrator to your date
fiddling with the controls as he squirms in his seat, trying to hold it in long enough to order his meal albeit stuttering and tripping over his words the whole time
having him wear lingerie under his clothes when he goes out to hang with his friends, the lace hugging his body tight-a remanent of you even if you're not there
and even though you don't ask him to he shows up at your apartment every morning, with flowers or gifts or a compliment ready on his lips, offering to drive you wherever you need
sends you texts throughout the day, informing you of every little thing with an adorable kind of elation
you'd forgiven him long ago, if you'd ever even been mad at him to begin with,
it was just cute watching him stumble around trying to fulfill your every wish
though that still doesn't change when you finally make things official
he probably cries when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he just can't help it, he loves you so, so, so much
Even if his definition of love being a tad overbearing,
he definitely changes a bit when you're actually dating
a little bit more possessive, a little bit more clingy mixed in with a dash of paranoia whenever youâre around someone else that isnât him
a lot of his shyness goes away when he's with you, ready to do whatever it takes to have your attention on him, willing to do anything that you tell him to
focusing on the former:
He really just canât help but imagine how youâd look with them
You wouldnât be happier with them, would you?
No, you love him, you love HIM
not them, not your coworker or best friend, not any one of his band mates or some random person you met at a social gathering
Itâs Chan that you love
Heâll stay quiet sometimes, he knows that you need people in your life other than him. he knows that he canât satisfy every one of your needs that all of these other people do
But that doesnât make him stop wishing that he could
he tolerates most people (mostly because of your scoldings and punishments when he hasn't) but he still can't help the rage that comes when he sees someone actively trying to get into your pants-ESPECIALLY if they KNOW you're with Chan
of which he will 'encourage' them to leave you alone later on
though he'd really rather not have to do that. it gets kind of messy and you always get angry with him afterwards
so it's good that he's okay with most people,
it doesnât stop his possessiveness or clinginess but at least he's not going tooooo overboard
If youâre shorter than him heâll come up behind you and wrap you in a big bear hug, arms around your waist, face in your neck, peppering kisses all over your skin
If youâre taller than him heâll have no problem pushing himself into your arms,Â
coming up in front of you and hugging you, taking your arms and throwing them other his shoulders
âPay attention to meeee~â
face still in your neck, kisses still all over your skin,
No shits given for pda or how the person you were talking to beforehand is reacting at him cutting off the conversation,
and if you happen to giggle or laugh at his antics his heart will skip a beat, face growing warm with the sound, encouraged once again, to do it the next time this happens
There is very little that will dissuade him even if you don't like it
if you donât like it he wonât pick up subtle cues or discomfort,Â
or more like heâll PRETEND that he doesnât get them
Youâll have to be straight up and tell him if you really want him to stop
Heâll give you the saddest, most hurt puppy dog eyes but will reluctantly listen to your wishes
he can never bring himself to do something that will hurt you or make you upset in any way
Afterwards when you get home is where that jealousy comes pouring out
jumping you the second youâre in the door,
the only time babyboy will ever purposely brat out, heâll welcome any punishment you give as long as itâs you paying attention to him
Not anyone else
Would actually die if you ignored him
Thatâs out of the question for punishments,
he could never take you pleasuring yourself while heâs tied up across the room,Â
he would probably cry and not in the way that either of you like
he doesnât care how hard you hit, how mean you are, how torturous your punishments are,
ignoring him is a no-no
And bringing someone else into any part of your relationship is too
Sexual or otherwise
The thought of someone else touching your skin, making you moan in the way he does, also makes him want to die.
End of story
If you try to bring it up at all heâd probably just ignore you, give you silent treatment until you apologizeÂ
And then make you PROMISE-PROMISE, PROMISE, PROMISE that itâll never happen
That heâs the only one youâll ever be with
Again, sexual or otherwise
but he wouldn't be against it if you were to say, fuck him in front of someone he was jealous of
having the other person watch as you praise him, giving him a slow handjob
his head going into overdrive as he makes pretty noises, all with the knowledge that this person would never get to be in his position, only a watcher to what Chan gets and they don't
He loves you so much and loves the way you make him feel
he gets quickly obsessed with that sense of freedom that you can give him
Heâs stressed and overworked, locking himself in his studio for who knows how long,Â
starving himself for who knows how long
At the end of a long week heâs all pent up and tired, barely able to stand up on his own two feet and make complete sentences
Much less take control during sex
And more often than not when he comes home after said long week heâs in subspace the second he hears your voice,
quite literally from the second he steps inside the door he just feels himself slipping, overtaking his head with every step he takes, pushing himself deeper and deeper
He just wants to curl up in your arms and let you take care of him, force his mind somewhere else
jerk him off and call him puppy, anything you want, anything at all
He absolutely loves to be called puppy or babyboy, he really doesnât know which one more because either will have the same effect
Mostly itâll be paired with him calling you mommy or daddy
he's not big on master or mistress, ma'm or sir just because they don't have the same amount of comfort mommy or daddy has
It makes him feel safe and warm and cared forÂ
Even if you are edging him for the sixth time tonight with no reprieve in sightÂ
Heâs a bit of a pillow princess but thatâs okay because he looks so pretty just laying there and taking whatever you give him
He loves the control you take from him, forcing the decisions out of his hands, your rules becoming the only thing he cares about,
that floaty feeling in his head when you strip him of all of his responsibilities and anxieties
Your comforting hand and sweet praises,
the knowing that he can fall into it and leave the overwhelming reality of his world with you right there to take care of him
He no doubt uses his submission, subspace and sex as a whole really as coping mechanism for when everything becomes too much
Which is unfortunately more often than not, can make things overwhelming for both parties
Itâs not very healthy but he thinks that itâs mostly him thatâs being affected in a negative wayÂ
He doesnât account for exactly how much of a toll it can be on you as wellÂ
He probably wonât notice either until you outright tell him, sit him down and give it pointblank
He feels horrible when and if you finally do though
But he is a bit selfish
So I doubt many serious changes will be made, if any at all
If things do change, donât expect them to stay that way long, slowly enough that you might not even realize it everything will fall right back into the place it was before
he does give really good aftercare though, wrapping his arms around you, ignoring how tired he is to ask if you need anything
even if he's practically braindead, his legs still shaking he's trying to clean you up, trying to wave you off with weak hands
he gets really sleepy but doesn't like to actually sleep, instead he likes to lazily talk to you, words slurred, voice low and heavy
about anything, everything
most of the reason he doesn't want to sleep is because he never wants this moment to end
him in your arms, his head on your chest, your lips leaving soft kisses all over his forehead and hairline
telling him you love him
he swears his heart will burst out of his chest
this is all he's ever wanted
all he's ever dreamed of
to be with you
a/n: okay after this one i'm going to do lixie and then maybe hyunjin...? i'm not fully sure yet after felix's but yeah, hope you enjoyed!
--if you get tagged, or see this again that's because this is a repost because it got put under the community label before even a full day was up
taglist is open now here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades, @hahagay, @lino-jagiyaa, @missrobyn81
#dom reader#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#sub stray kids#stray kids#chan x reader#yandere chan#chan smut#bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader#sub bang chan#dom!reader#sub yandere
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Realize where you belong.
Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader
Chapter 4
CW: jealous neteyam, angst, restless neteyam, obsessive and toxic behavior, mentions of violence, neteyam's current mental health is not the best out there (let's put it that way), the word "bloody" being mentioned in someone's thoughts, TRIGGER WARNING for dubious consent and slight NON CON, angry thoughts, melancholic reader, hints of depression on reader, anxious reader, mentions of breeding kink, reader thinking a lot about neteyam, reader finds out she's crushing on neteyam, reader is afraid of neteyam + attracted to him, neteyam stepping over reader's boundaries, creepy yandere vibes, slight nudity, sexual tension, neteyam almost trying to have sex with reader (if you squint)
Not proofread⊠as always đ I'm so sorry PLS don't give up on me, my babies! My readers are my lil rays of sunshine! No false praising here, I'm way too much of an honest, and sometimes blunt bih to do that! Ahaha you guys have changed my life. Having you guys reading my stories, appreciating my art⊠I'm still speechless. I love y'all until the end! đ„Čđ„șđ«đ when I'm sad, you guys cheer me up with your comments, reblogs, asks, likes⊠I'm forever thankful âš I'm sending A BIG KITH to everyone that commented on the other chapters! I didn't have enough time and mental/physical health to answer everyone bc I've been going through some tough things in my personal life lately. Like, REAL tough. But I always do my best to try and show my gratitude to all of you <3 hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave comments below if u wanna I LOOOOVE READING YOUR COMMENTS đ„°đđđ
Chapter 3
ËË°âą*ââ·
Watching me, wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you, loving you
I won't let you pull me down
Haunted (Evanescence)
ËË°âą*ââ·
Hours had passed since Neteyam Suli had appeared to you in the window of the kitchen you worked in.
It was late at night already and you should be sleeping but, you just could not stop thinking about what had happened. How weird it had been to see a real na'vi - not an Avatar - real close. How odd he looked in your eyes, massive in size and so, so blue...
You laughed alone in your small room in the back of the laboratory after taking a quarter of a second to realize that the thought you just had was actually really funny.
Neteyam looked like a huge and thick brushstroke of sky blue paint. Still, he was⊠incredibly beautiful. He was eerie, weird looking compared to the human guys you're used to, but⊠something about him made his face linger on your mind.
You did not know how it was possible that you were finally having to admit to yourself that you felt attracted to Neteyam Suli, even after he appeared to you only once and, let's not forget, he appeared completely unanticipated, saying he had seen you before, multiple times.
You knew that raised like a billion red flags. Yet still, even though you did not feel safe enough to trust him or let your hair down when he was around, he intrigued you immensely.
àŒââ·
You woke up the next morning feeling anxious. You did not know what it was exactly, but, lately, you had not only been depressed, but anxious too. You knew you probably would be diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety if you cared to go to the mental health department of the laboratory, but the thing was⊠you did not care to. You did not want to. The real reason for your lingering sadness was already so familiar to you: you did not like the life you were living.
You looked to be free like the na'vi. To not have deadly boring obligations everyday, to not have to care so much about so many strict rules of what was socially acceptable and what was not. You thought your own race to be too complicated. Humans don't really say what they mean just so many times. Humans care too much about money and power when, in reality, deep down, we all know that's not what's gonna make us happy, what's gonna keep us warm in a cold night.
But you were never really like that.
Not to pretend you were a golden, precious jewel, so incredibly hard to find, so utterly different from everybody else but, in all honesty, as much as you did care about money and having a comfortable life - to some extent - you were never a greedy for riches kind of person. You had always felt perfectly happy and content to just have a few things to keep you cozy, like your earbuds, a good book, your favorite sweet treat⊠You liked it simple. Calm. Balanced.
You believed that everything needs to be balanced to work well.
Chaos and light. Pain and happiness.
People need all of it to learn, grow and live a good life, that doesn't get painfully boring and unbearable with time.
But humans lacked balance.
Too much greed, too little contentment. Too much hate, too little compassion. Too much selfishness, too little altruism. That's why your kind was, as unfortunate as it was, doomed to misery. The human race dug their own grave. God, they couldn't even respect and take care of their own planet, their own home, the place that kept them literally safe and steady in the middle of the immense galaxy, let alone being able to take care of each other, to consider other's feelings before their own because, sometimes, we all need to do it.
And that's one of the reasons why you admired the na'vi so much. They were so much more wise than your own race.
How many times you had wished, talking to yourself in the dark of the night, that you could have been born na'vi. Why was fate so cruel to you? You did not even believe in fate. But it is only an expression, anyway.
àŒââ·
Neteyam was tossing around on his mat since he went back home from training.
Yesterday he was way too busy to try and go see you or at least watch you from afar.
Sometimes he truly felt exhausted from his hectic routine and just wished he could be like Lo'ak and the other Omatikaya young men and just be able to relax more, to have more free time to engage in hobbies or, Eywa... to have more time to sleep... Sometimes he went back home all sore. He was as athletic as one can be but it did not mean he could not feel jaded after pushing himself too hard.
But Neteyam tried to always keep in mind the noble, sacred reason why he did all that. He was going to be the next leader of his clan, a privileged position, blessed by the Great Mother. A position that so many wished to have and he was lucky enough to be waiting to take on.
He was the current Olo'eyktan's son. It was a gift, he should not be ungrateful. He felt bad for thinking that was exactly what he was being... His father, Jake, was Toruk Makto. He was brave enough to earn that title. Neteyam felt it was his duty to be as brave and fearless as his father, to honor him and all his efforts to defend their tribe from any danger, specially from the Sky People.
Everything was going as usual, if it was not for only one thing: Lo'ak seemed to be suspicious of the fact that Neteyam was out for so many hours, almost everyday (meaning, every time he was free to just do whatever he wanted and not training to become the next Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya) and nobody had a clue of where he was.
His parents seemed to be too busy being the Olo'eyktan and the TsahĂŹk to notice something seemed off about Neteyam's behavior lately. And it is understandable. It was anything but easy to be the clan leader and the clan healer and spiritual leader. Mo'at was getting old and had passed the position of TsahĂŹk to Neytiri a while ago. So, Jake and Neytiri already were making such a huge effort to be able to live up to their duties, be parents of a little girl, Tuktirey, three teenagers and still keep their sanity. It was a lot, indeed. But they tried as hard as they could to still be good enough for their clan, their family and for each other, as a mated couple.
Neteyam decided he was way too restless to be able to sleep that night. He could not stop thinking about the way that human male talked to you, looked at you... He wondered if he really was your mate. He was not sure but if what he thought when he saw you two together was true, he knew it would not be a problem. He hated to get violent, his natural self was calm and composed. But he was going to fight for you, and, if it needed to get bloody, then so be it.
He decided to go outside his and his family's home, to breathe some cold, fresh eclipse air. It helped him to calm down a bit but it was not enough. He missed you. Like crazy. Deeply. He craved your scent⊠your delicious human scent. He did not even believe he was saying that about the way a human smelled. But he would always insist in saying you were different. You had a na'vi heart. Just like his father, back when he was still all pink and small.
He decided he wanted⊠no, he needed to see you. And it could not wait. It had to be now. He craved you and that craving would not go away like that. It was stronger than his rational brain. You woke up his animal side more than anything else did. He wanted to mate with you as soon as possible. He dreamt about the day he would be able to breed you, have you carrying his offspring on your womb. He would make you so happy, give you everything you've ever wanted, everything you need. And while you were still not permanently living inside your Avatar body, he still wanted to have you, even if it meant having you in your demon form. You were a pretty, lovely demon. His cute, sweet demon girl. His yawntutsyÏp. (little loved one)
àŒââ·
You just could not believe it was really happening, how the hell you got into those circumstances.
Right before that moment, you were almost sleeping peacefully, finally (you know that state when you're not awake nor asleep?), after having been awake, tossing around on your bed for hours for the most ridiculous reason you could ever think of: you were undeniably crushing on that weird alien boy. Neteyam Suli.
Yes, he acted like a creep when he tapped on your window. You knew it was pathetic but⊠he just would not leave your mind. He was shamelessly living rent free in your brain. All cozy there.
But the worst and craziest part was: you were still afraid of him.
Ok, the na'vi were a peaceful, highly intelligent (arguably much more smart, interesting and wiser than humans) alien race but he was still almost 10 feet tall and was so freaking intimidating. You shivered at the thought that he could ever hurt you, even by accident, one day.
Still, you were now here with him. Outside the laboratory. Because he put his goddamn eerie but cute (the guy is a complete paradox) looking ocean colored fingers through the tiny gap you left open in your bedroom window - a passage you left for air to come in when it was really hot and dry, like it was that night - and that made a strange noise, enough to put you in alert mode.
Damn, what a bad habit⊠Leaving the window open, even slightly, was not even permitted by the people who took care of the lab's security norms. That could be dangerous. But you had always been a stubborn little thing.
You were now regretting your decisions, though.Â
Neteyam approached your window being what he could be like a pro: a crazy stalker.
How you were still attracted to him⊠even though you were fearful of his na'vi build and strength⊠that was a question that maybe a mental health professional could answer. It was weird and problematic and you knew it. But you never imagined you would feel like this about Neteyam Suli. You really did not. When you first saw him, he seemed cute and handsome in your eyes, but he was still an alien. You had never considered being attracted to one. But now⊠nothing made sense anymore, things were getting weird.
Stupidity took over you when you were so sleepy and groggy and you saw it was his huge hand on the wooden window, so, you wanted to ask him why he ran away the last time you two spoke. You know when you're so sleepy, you make the most unimaginably silly mistakes? So⊠there you go. You dragged your heavy with slumber body out of your bed, grabbed your oxygen mask that was kept inside your closet and opened the window.
But why, though?
In the beginning, you two were having a trivial talk about mundane stuff, like how he learned the English language (his father, of course), he started to ask how and why you got an Avatar etcÂ
He acted suspicious but still normal-ish, for a na'vi. They always looked mysterious when interacting with humans. But then, when he was telling you about his little sister, Tuktirey, and your eyes were slowly falling shut, your body begging for some hours of sleep⊠you felt a change in the atmosphere around you.
Your eyes had closed for a while, on their own, and suddenly, you knew Neteyam was really close to you, now. He had been keeping a respectful distance in the beginning. But now⊠now he was inches away from your body. He had moved closer, his fleshy but toned blue thigh almost rubbing against your leg, as you were sitting sideways on the window frame, your legs hanging in the air, making you feel a bit cold because of the nighttime Pandoran air.
You woke up from your 5 seconds long involuntary nap really startled.
"Hey! Why are you⊠so close?" You looked at him, dazed and nervous, visibly shaken
"Sorry⊠Is it too much? You're just⊠so prettyâŠ" Neteyam says, looking at you like he's looking at a graceful, otherworldly being.
"Yeah. It is." You warn him "Can you⊠step away a bit, please?" You said, looking into his eyes. Your gaze serious but amiable.
Neteyam respected your request and did what was decent. But you did not expect that he would soon change his demeanor, just like something was taking over him.
You were so distracted with your chat with Neteyam but so utterly sleepy too that you did not notice when your nightgown's thin strap slipped through your right shoulder, leaving your breast exposed, your nipple out for Neteyam to see.
It was like a beast had replaced that nice-but-weird-vibes guy you were previously talking to.
Neteyam had just lifted you off of the window with amazing ease, your feet now touching the ground and he got closer to you again. He had you with your back against the lab's outer wall, keeping you there just by being in front of you, looking at you.
His size was enough to keep you still. You did not want him to maybe get mad at you if you tried to run away. That could become terrifying in a heartbeat. You were brave since a child, but you were also realistic. Your height and body strength was nothing compared to Neteyam's.
He looked at your exposed breast with such desire, you felt like his amber gaze was scorching your sensitive skin.
"Neteyam! What-?"
"You're so⊠perfect." His breath was labored while he stared down at your nipple, hardened by the cold temperature of the eclipse air "SevinâŠ" (pretty)
"I'm so afraid of you, Neteyam... You're too big and honestly...scary. I'm so sorry. I'm always trying to pick up signals that may indicate you're gonna hurt me. I don't feel comfortable at all right now. Please, let me go" You said as your cold, anxious hands took your nightgown strap back to where it belonged, covering your boob again, feeling ashamed of the vulnerable way you had just been seen by Neteyam, ashamed of the fact that he, a boy you barely knew, had just seen your naked breast, even if it was only for a brief period of time
"My cute little 'emyuâŠ" (cook, cooker) "You don't need to be afraid of me." He smiles at you in such a sincere way, trying to show you he means no harm whatsoever.Â
Though Neteyam felt his heart tightening way too much inside his chest, hurting so much it was like you had crushed it when you said you're afraid of him, he was carefully trying to make you see he would never in a billion years harm you, his precious little yawne (loved one).
He wished so hard, even prayed to Eywa, in a millisecond, inside his mind, that you would soon realize he loved you so much he would kill anyone who ever hurt your precious, frail human body. He could not understand how you could think he himself would do such a horrible thing towards you.
When Neteyam saw you did not show any sign that you were beginning to trust him more, he said:
"HĂŹ'i," (little, small in size) "please... I need you... I love your scent so much. I miss it everytime I'm away from you. I love the way your human skin smells. I do. I dream about you at night... " He gets closer to you slowly and carefully, caging you between the wall and his broad, crazily tall blue body, leaving no way for you to get away from him "C-can I touch you? Touch your skin?" Neteyam breathes, begging for you with his wide eyed gaze "Just for a little while, please..." He kneels down at the ground to be as close as he possibly can to your height "See? I'm not so tall anymore. Am I a little less scary now?" He smiles faintly, trying to cover his pain with a fake demonstration of joy.
Neteyam feels so insecure, without any guarantee that you will eventually let him in. But he will never give up on trying to be worthy of your love.
"You're always gonna be scary to me. Even when I'm in my Avatar, I think." Using a sharp na'vi knife to stab Neteyam's heart repeatedly would have hurt him less than that statement "I'm not as skilled as you are or experienced as you are when it comes to using a bow or anything like that. God, I can't even work a bow right. If you'd ever hurt me, even by accident I-"
"I can teach you." He interrupted "I will teach you everything I know about archery. I'm a great archer, you know? I like to call myself "Mighty Warrior". " He smiles, frowning a bit, trying to make a joke to make the situation a little lighter.
You seemed so afraid he was starting to not know what to do anymore to try to make you see you were safe with him. That he would defend you from any danger without any hesitation and not be the danger himself.
àŒââ·
Taglist:
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#neteyam x you#neteyam sully x human reader#neteyam x female reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x na'vi!reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam sully x y/n#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam sully#avatar neteyam#neteyam atwow#neteyam angst#avatar fanfic#na'vi x human reader#neteyam x human#neteyam sully x you#neteyam x female human reader#kxamtxomaw writes âĄ
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I think Haley from Stardew Valley would make an interesting Yandere. I mean, sheâs already a bitch, it wouldnât be out of character for her to make snide comments or glare are her rivals. Plus thereâs the whole photography thing. You canât tell me she doesnât develop photos of you just to create album after album of you.
Iâll flush this out more later, Iâm about to romance her for a perfection run, and I think imma make it like my Yandere Sebastian post. I just have never actually romanced her for myself and I think thatâs important for the level of detail I wanna get to. Just knowing you go to Marnieâs barn together in a heart event doesnât quite get me the material I need to set her up for Yandere success.
Iâll drop my Yan Seb post at the bottom tho, ik itâs been a while since stardew brainrot. Also let me know if thereâs anyone else I should make a deep dive Yandere post for. I feel like my delusional ass can probably make any of them Yandere if I squint hard enough. Except maybe Sam. Simply because he seems so young that Iâm uncomfortable romancing him. Maybe platonic Yandere thoâŠ. Sibling vibesâŠâŠ oooooâŠ.. ok Iâm shutting up now
#yandere blog#yandere#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#yandere x darling#yandere blurb#soft yandere#yandere imagine#yandere scenarios#tw yandere#yandere stardew valley#yandere sdv#stardew valley#sdv#irl yandere#irl darling#yandere x you#Yandere Haley
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Macaque ⥠Bath Time
First of all, this is all still SFW, but would be leading into NSFW with the ending implication. So this still counts as Fluff. Also I personally would call him Mac-Mac, so that shall now be implemented into my fics.
That being said...
CW: slight suggestive vibe, nudity, mild gore(? had to hold back a lot from making it full on detailed descriptions), maybe faint yandere behavior if you squint
⥠~ Fluff ~ âĄ
"I've told you before. Hands off my territory... No one to blame but yourself."
The dark-furred simian dropped the demon's corpse onto the pavement with a dark grin. It's been a while since he really got to do this to another demon. He's been holding back his true strength ever since he met you, in hopes of not scaring you off... Well, at least he didn't usually attack demons with you around. That didn't mean he would kill them even when you weren't present.
However... this particular demon crossed the line. Not only did this demon return to the apartment complex, the Six-Eared Macaque's territory, despite having been warned... But this demon also threatened to kill him, as well as you and your neighbors right after.
Little did he know that your husband was a lot more capable than any other ordinary demon this guy had ever faced before, by far. Despite his size compared to the intruder, he could easily fold him.
And of course, Macaque didn't take this random demon's threats lightly. Killing off a threat to you and your home once in a while wouldn't be so bad, no? Surely a little bit of self-defense in the name of your safety should be fine.
So he did what he seemed most fit. Getting rid of the pest that spoke of those threats. After all, endangering you in any way, shape or form was off-limits. Anyone attempting to break this one simple rule had to deal with the consequences and would be punished by your loving husband...
Violence may not always be the answer, but life is multiple choice.
And death was just one of the options.
A quite merciful one at that.
Macaque glanced down at the blood that now stained not only his clothes, but his fur too. He rolled his eyes, grumbling about needing to take a bath. After all, he wouldn't want his beloved to be stained by another demon's blood when he hugged them. And thus, he disposed of the body by engulfing it in a shadow portal. He was torn between letting it fall into lava or the ocean, but he decided that lava would be the quickest solution. If the corpse somehow managed to not be gone by the time the Demon Bull Family saw something floating on the surface of one of their lava pits, then they could simply see it as a nice aesthetic gift to their home.
He used another shadow portal to return to your shared apartment's living room. Everything was quiet, so much so that he had no problems hearing all your neighbors without even trying, which the shadow monkey already anticipated. Usually it was him that would come home later than you, but not today since his plays were scheduled for only half of the week. And it was a good thing he had the day off. Who knows what would've happened if you came home first and encountered the demon he got rid of instead!
After making his way past your bedroom door, he let a shadow clone enter and pick some fresh clothes for him. Meanwhile, he prepared his bath. The dark-furred simian noticed the lack of a shampoo bottle near the bathtub, so he ended up picking the plum-scented shampoo from the cabinet beneath the sink. Macaque was considering using body wash as well, but decided against it as most of what the blood got on was pure fur anyway. His shadow clone then walked in with fresh clothes, placing them on the closed toilet seat before vanishing back into his shadow.
However, before he could undress, his ears caught the sound of keys clashing by the front door. He smiled to himself at the implication- Only you had keys to the apartment since he didn't need keys to enter. And his assumption was indeed correct.
"Mac-Mac, I'm home!" Your lovely voiced called out from down the hallway as you entered.
"Heya, sugarplum! I'll be right with you, just gonna take a bath first!" He called back through he closed door. It did take a while until the tub was actually filled with warm water, so in the meantime he inspected his nude, scarred form in the mirror. He sighed to himself as he tried getting some blood off manually with his fingers, but to no avail. It would be difficult to clean up some spots, for sure. Especially those splatters that ended up on his back...
Another thing he did while waiting for the bathtub to fill up was to listen in on what you were doing. From what he could still hear past the noises coming from the faucet and your neighbors, apparently you were eating dinner. Presumably leftovers from the fridge as he did not recall you cooking anything earlier that day.
Once the tub was full, he turned off the faucet, then climbed inside and began to clean himself up. Macaque started off by washing all his fur on and around his head, at least that was easy to do. There wasn't even all that much blood stuck in there in the first place... Well, except for maybe the front.
He was so busy rubbing the blood off his arms that he didn't hear you walking towards the bathroom. At least until you lightly knocked on the door, pulling him back into reality.
"May I come in? I need a dry towel for the kitchen", you asked. Your husband told you that you may enter, so you did.
It was far from the first time you saw him without clothes, so it wasn't exactly awkward when you came in and picked one of the thinner towels. After choosing a fitting one, your eyes glanced over at the dark-furred simian. Honestly, he was already handsome by default. Him without a shirt was even better. But his wet, shiny fur glistening in the light of the bathroom made him look a lot more appealing on top of it all.
Suddenly, his own gaze landed on you. He seemed a bit confused, but this little bit of confusion was quickly wiped away as his smug grin took over.
Shit. He probably heard your heartbeat increase... Curse his intense hearing!
"What's the matter, sugarplum? Like what you see~?"
You were about to respond in a flustered, passive aggressive manner... Until you noticed the amount of red that was still very much present on his fur. You paused for a second before becoming concerned. "What happened? Did you get into a fight? Is that your blood?!" You asked frantically.
Macaque's grin left just as quickly as it came. "No, no! Well... I mean yes, I did get into a fight. B- But this isn't my blood!" That statement only eased your concerns a bit. You simply stood there in thought with the folded towel in hand... Until he seemed to try wash off some blood his back, but to no avail.
"Do you need help getting it off?" You asked as you slowly put the towel onto the sink.
He raised an eyebrow at you before waving his hand dismissively. "I wouldn't mind the company."
You hummed in amusement as you made your way over to the bathtub, getting onto your knees next to it. Macaque handed you the bottle of shampoo and you put a portion of it onto your hand, putting the bottle next to you on the ground. You then scooped up a bit of water with your other hand and mixed both liquids together. Afterwards your hands were free to roam around your husband's back, trying to get rid of the red colors and the faint stench...
Honestly, you couldn't tell if it was just the blood because his fur seemed to stink on its own.
Suddenly, the dark-furred simian started to purr as you started gently cleaning blood around his tail. You actually had a somewhat hard time cleaning it... Macaque's joy over you handling his tail so gently only made it move around more. That in of itself wouldn't have been much of a problem, but we have to take his extra strength into consideration. He may be holding back by a lot, but his tail was still able to casually pick you up if he wanted to. So trying to keep it still enough to properly get rid of stains was a challenge.
You grinned at his tail's excitement, "Do you want me to wash the rest of your body too or what?"
The shadow monkey halted before fake-thinking with a hum. "Only if you get in here with me."
You gave him a blank look for a few seconds. Macaque thought this suggestion was a bit too much for you today. You barely got off work after all. Thus he was about to apologize... until he heard you take off your own clothes.
He paused as his tail's tip flicked back above the water in anticipation. His head whipped to the side to see you put your clothes onto his own pile or dirty clothes. With your body now in the nude, you approached the bathtub before demanding him to scoot over so you could sit behind him. You then positioned yourself so he was sitting between your legs, practically having been captured so he could never escape. (He wouldn't have minded to be honest.)
And without another word, you proceeded to continue washing him. Mainly his back and sides due to his fur's locations, but you occasionally would brush over part of his chest. Most of his fur in the back wasn't even bloody, but it was still nice to help clean him. At one point his tail wrapped around your waist as he leaned back into your hold, purring while slightly rubbing himself against you. You cooed at him being adorable and tried countering him by pushing your body firmly against his, trying to reach at least part of his legs better.
However, the moment you got to his hips towards his abdomen, he chuckled. "Not low enough, sugarplum~"
You rolled your eyes at his words with a flustered smile, "Mac-Mac, you can clean that area yourself. I can barely even clean your legs from here." He pouted as his head turned to face you, just so you could see his disappointment. You grinned at him in return.
"Do I at least get a reward for cleaning up the rest myself?" He asked with a knowing smirk as his gaze lowered towards your body below the water. That cheeky little bastard... You raised an eyebrow at the monkey's suggestion. The fact that his tail seemed to slowly make its way towards your thigh didn't help the situation.
You sighed in defeat as you nuzzled into your husband's furry back. "Okay fine. But, only one round, got it? I still have work tomorrow, and you know how much our stamina differs."
Macaque chuckled, using his hands to position your arms around his torso, your hands against his chest. "I can't promise anything, sugarplum~" He swiftly turned around more until he was able to give you a quick kiss on the lips, his hands holding your head for better access. "I love you."
In return, you leaned in as well for a kiss that would last a little longer. "I love you too..."
"Well, guess I better get to cleaning now, just so we have more time for my reward~", he said in his low voice as he pulled away. It didn't take long for Macaque to completely clean himself, especially with this new motivation literally sitting behind him with a flushed, yet amused look.
Maybe you should offer him this type of reward for doing house chores, just to motivate him into actually doing those more often.
> Masterlist <
#lmk x reader#macaque x reader#six eared macaque#lego monkie kid#lmk macaque#fluff#bath#suggestive#only a bit tho#i personally dont think it counts rly into gore due to how i removed all the actual descriptions tbh
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