#and the stories and building blocks that have come out of it that helped me get where i am today
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Writing Advice to Keep the Ideas Coming
How to Steal Like An Artist by Austin Kleon is a great resource to start with. It teaches you how to take information around you and put it into your own style and words so that you can create something fun and original.
Understand that writing is a skill you build not a talent you're born with. It's a muscle you gotta build up. The first things you write are going to be bad. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. It just means you are clearing the mud out of the pipes for clear water to come through. Gotta get rid of the crap so the good stuff can come through.
When I was starting out writing, I would watch a movie and try to describe in my own words what was going on, the setting, and the dialogue happening onto a page. I would then go back in a second draft and add what I call fluff. You can't have a story without fluff. That would just make it bare bones. Give it meat. That's what 2nd and 3rd drafts are for: Adding meat to the bones and fluffing it up to a well rounded, well fed story.
Follow your muse when you get it and help yourself associate writing with something good and fun at first. Like writing a few hundred words (like a paragraph's worth) and giving yourself a little treat as a reward. It can be whatever you want. A bite of a snack, a piece of candy, a sip of your favorite drink. This will Pavlov you into associating following the muse with good things and serotonin. It will also cause it to chase ideas down in a back alley and rifle through their pockets for inspiration to keep the serotonin coming.
When you write, make sure you do so consistently. This looks different for everyone. It can be for several hours during the day everyday. Or it could be every other day at lunch when you get a moment, or even once a week on a random Saturday for 15-45 minutes. As long as you have a set writing time that you keep for yourself you're going to be good. This is especially good for the days you don't have a muse but still need to write something to get it out of your system or get you past the dreaded writer's block.
Remember to write for yourself and the readers will follow. Don't worry about your audience or revisions until after you've told yourself the story first. This is the first draft. That makes it so that you can have a full draft to edit later and make sense out of it, find inconsistencies, and make it legible.
Also remember to look at the books and stories you love and dissect what it is that you like about them so you can apply it to your own style in your own words. This could mean plot, characters, setting, grammar style, or dialogue and more. Just find what makes that happy button tick and apply it to your own style, changing to to match your own stuff without plagiarizing.
And lastly, I'm going to leave you with my favorite ira glass quote that really kept me going:
#writing advice#inks rambles#writing#creative writing#writing tips#writing help#writing resources#writing characters#writing tools#writeblr
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
#writing#creative writing#writer problems#writing advice#writing community#writing a book#writing problems#novel writing#on writing#writing tips#writing help#writers on tumblr#writers block#female writers#writers of tumblr#writers blog#adhd writer
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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning
I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.
Let's take a look:
Gem Glow
"Awesome! What are these things?"
Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.
Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:
The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.
The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-
Laser Light Canon
"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."
Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.
At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.
And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...
"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"
And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.
"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"
Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.
I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.
Cheeseburger Backpack
So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)
Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."
"Yeah... they can't all be winners."
This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-
Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.
Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.
Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.
Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:
This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.
Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.
Together Breakfast
"What's the matter, Steven?"
"I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..."
"Oh, that's nice..."
Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.
Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.
I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.
The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.
If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?
These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'
"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"
And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.
"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"
Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.
__
So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.
One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.
Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.
Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.
Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.
In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'
Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.
When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.
In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.
But they don't care.
Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.
With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.
And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...
No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.
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Fakeboy story time!
You and your male friend are hanging out in his basement, smoking, playing video games, talking about girls. Just doing stuff for the boys, like you always do. But today, you felt a little bit different, more comfortable around him. Safe. So you finally decided to come out and tell him that you're trans.
"Wait, so like... you want to be a girl? That's fuckin weird dude..." he responds. Not the response you were looking for.
"No I mean, I was born a girl! And then I transitioned, before I even met you..." you say back, struggling with the words, not thinking it would need this much explanation. You'd assumed he suspected you were trans, but apparently not. "I wear a binder to keep my chest down, and I usually wear boy clothes, so i guess it might not be as obvious as i thought..." you whisper back at him, a little sad at how this is going.
"Wait, so you have fucking tits?" He lunges forwards and touches your chest. You yelp and try to pull away from him, but his hand stays on you. "Oh yeah, fuck dude... I feel something here blocking them..." he reaches down and grabs your shirt, starting to pull it off.
"W-wait, what are you doing?!?" You shout as your shirt flies up over your head, revealing your binder.
"Relax dude..." he responds, looking at your chest inquisitively. "Two guys seeing each other's chests is normal. What the hell is this bra you're wearing, looks uncomfortable as hell." He grabs at it and literally tears it off your chest, as you feel the sting of it snapping against your breasts. Your tits spring out immediately, showing just how large your chest really is. "Fuck dude..." he whispers in amazement. "Why the hell were you hiding these away from me?" He reaches down and grabs one of your tits, squeezing it in his hand.
"S-stop dude, that's not funny!" You shout, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away. But he doesn't budge an inch. You'd wrestled together before and knew he was stronger than you, but he must've been holding back before, because now, he felt stronger than ever. "Please... don't..." you try to stammer out, struggling not to moan as he squeezes here, brushing your nipples with his fingers.
"Can't believe you were hiding this from me all this time... I could've been having so much fun! You could've been my tomboy girlfriend..." he says shoving you down and getting on top of you, squeezing your tits harder and causing an involuntary moan to come out of you, getting a small smirk out of him.
"I'm not a girl though!" You shout back at him, trying to shove him off. But he just smiles back.
"If you're not a girl, then what are these?" He says, squeezing your tits harder. You moan, louder than before, impossible to ignore. "And what's this?" He says, tearing a hole in the front of your sweats, revealing your nicely shaved pussy. You stare down, fear beginning to build up in your body as you realize that he's not stopping.
"And if you're a 'real man' than why don't you have one of these?" He asks, pulling out his cock. It's massive, as big as the ones you see in porn all the time. His dick is throbbing, just inches from your face, a pearly drop of precum dripping down and resting on your chin.
"Please... don't do this..." you whimper out, struggling not to cry, but also not to moan just at the sight of his dick.
"Don't worry..." he leans down, whispering into your ear. "You're going to love it." And with that, he shoves his dick straight into your pussy, no lube, no preparation. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt at all, probably because you're already soaked just from thinking about what he's doing to you. You cry out, half a scream for help, half a moan as he thrusts in and out of you, making you feel things you never have when you've masturbated.
"Fuck, you weren't lying last month when you said you were a virgin, you feel so fucking good around my cock, slut..." he grunts out, thrusting into you furiously, without any care for you pleasure. Despite that, it feels great. You hate that he's doing this, you hate that he's fucking you like a girl, that he's fucking you at all. But you can't deny the physical pleasure of the whole situation... still, you try to get him to stop.
"Please, please s-stop!" You yell, holding in a moan while he slaps your tits and fucks you harder. "I'm not a girl, d-don't fuck me like one!" You'd prefer if he wasn't fucking you at all, but that's as much as you can ask for.
"Shut it, bitch. You hid this from me for so long, the least you can do to repay me is to let me use your pussy how I want... I'm going to use you all night, fucking you and cumming in you over and over..."
Your heart stops for a moment and your eyes grow wide. "Cumming in m-me...?" You ask, looking up at him with fear. "You can't! I'm not on birth control or anything!!" You grab his arms and try to push him off, but it's no use.
"Oh? I thought you were a "man" though? Men can't get pregnant, so I'll cum in you all I want... then we'll see..." he says, thrusting harder and harder. You can tell that he's already getting close to cumming, judging from the speed he's going at. You do your best to try and push him off, all while begging him to stop over and over, but it's no use. After just a few minutes, he finally plunges his cock deep inside of you, so far and fast that it actually makes you cum, squeezing his cock even harder as it starts finishing inside of you, filling you up with a feeling of warmth, overflowing and hitting every inch inside your pussy with his seed. After a minute or so of you both orgasming and panting, he collapses on top of you, with his cock still inside of you, and gives you a nice, intimate kiss. You try and push him off now, but it's still no use. He's too big, too strong to get off of you, like any real man is.
"Fuck..." he whispers out, kissing you again and again as you try to avoid his mouth. "That was amazing... we're doing that again as soon as I get hard." He props himself up on his elbows and looks down at you, relishing in the look of pure terror still sitting on your face. "You're a really good actor, with this whole "man" character you've been playing. But let's see how good of an act you can put up when your belly starts swelling in a few months..."
You look back at him in shock and start crying, hoping that your tears will convince him to let you go. Instead, you just feel his cock inside of you, growing hard once more.
#detrans kink#ftm detrans kink#ftm girl#ftm misgendering#detrans female#ftm detransition#detrans ftm#fakeboy#detransition kink#forced detrans
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The Author*
Summary: You just moved into your new apartment and your new neighbour turns out to be the author of the smutty book you're currently reading.
Pairing: Author/Neighbour!Harry x Reader
Word count: 2.8K
Warnings: Smut, basically strangers, it's cute tho.
Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86
Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗
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The first few weeks of living in your new apartment were, thankfully, relatively uneventful. You had managed to find a new job and keep your finances balanced, and the building you were in seemed to be relatively clean and well-maintained, and you'd never seen anyone who you thought would have a problem with you.
You travel back and forth between work by bus, not really feeling the need to have a car in the big city. Plus it gives you the perfect opportunity to read a good book, something you love but always slips in the cracks of your busy life.
It's the last day of work before your weekend, and you're on the bus home deep into a chapter of the book you're reading, everything is going perfectly fine. You're excited for the weekend as you still have a few boxes to unpack and some cleaning and organization that needs to get done.
You've been so into the book you're reading, that when you realize the bus just drove past your usual stop, you're shocked.
“Oh, shit.” You mutter under your breath as you try to think of what to do. You could just walk the few blocks back to your stop, the weather is fine anyway. You press the button, the bus comes to a halt at the next stop and you step off, thanking the driver for the ride. You begin walking, a tote on your shoulder and the book still in hand.
The streets aren't busy, it's not a particularly busy part of the city, and it's a beautiful afternoon. The sun is shining and there is a slight breeze, but not too much. You can hear the birds chirping and see the small kids playing in the nearby park, all in all a nice day.
You reach your building after a few minutes of walking, and the front door is unlocked and ajar, so you let yourself in and start to head towards the stairwell. When you reach the right floor, you spot your neighbour coming out of their apartment, the one you had seen the first night you'd arrived.
He was tall, much taller than you, and wearing a t-shirt that clung to his form nicely, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal a collection of tattoos that ran all the way down to his hands. His hair was curly and looked incredibly soft and you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. His jaw was chiselled, sporting a stubble. He looked good, really good.
“Hey.” He says, his voice deep and smooth, and you can't help but notice the accent he has. “I haven't seen you around before, are you the new neighbour?”
“Yeah, I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” You reply. “My name is Y/N.”
“It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Harry.” He extends a hand and you shake it. You notice the rings on his fingers, they're large, but not tacky, and they suit him. He looks at the book in your other hand and chuckles, “A reader, eh?”
“Yeah, I've always loved reading, and this one is really good, I've been wanting to finish it, so I'm glad I missed my stop, I was so deep into the story I hadn't even noticed.” You chuckle and it's then when Harry notices what book you have in hand, his book.
“Hey, wait a second. You're reading my book!” He points at the cover.
“Oh, you wrote this? Well, now I feel kinda embarrassed.” You say, laughing, trying to hide the embarrassment and your blushing cheeks. The story is based around quite a few explicit sex scenes, and you're hoping he won't bring it up.
“I'm just messing with ya. I'm actually quite flattered.” He chuckles.
You talk for a few more minutes and then go on your way. He is funny and kind, and his smile is one that you know you would kill to see. His eyes are bright, and you love the way his curls move when he laughs.
As you make your way to your apartment, you're smiling to yourself, thinking about how good-looking your new neighbour is. He seems kind and easy-going, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to spend more time with him.
When you get to your apartment, you drop your things, kick off your shoes and throw yourself onto your sofa. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to process the day, and what just happened.
Knowing the man who came up with those incredible sex scenes was living right across the hall from you, is driving you absolutely wild. You're not sure why you're reacting the way you are, you have no business thinking about him like that. But he's just so fucking hot, and his accent, and his body, and the way his arms looked...
You feel your skin begin to heat up, and a tingling between your legs, and before you even realise, your hand is down the front of your jeans. You start touching yourself, and all you can think of is him, and the words he has written. Your breathing becomes heavier and you close your eyes, imagining him doing these things to you, his lips and hands exploring your body.
You're abruptly ripped from your fantasy by a knock on the door, and you jump and scramble to pull your hand from your pants.
“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, and run your fingers through your hair, trying to get it to look presentable. You look through the peephole in the door and your eyes widen, there stands Harry, and he's holding a bottle of wine. You take a deep breath and open the door, trying to appear as composed as possible.
“Oh, hi.” You say, smiling, but you're nervous. “What can I do for you, Harry?”
“Hey, Y/N, I just came to drop off some wine.” He seems nervous. “I figured since you're new it'd be a nice thing to do.”
“That's very sweet of you, thank you.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” He turns and starts to walk back to his own apartment.
“Harry, wait!” You shout, and he turns back to face you.
“Yes, love?” His British accent thick.
“Do you want to come in? I'll pour us some wine.”
“Yeah, that'd be lovely.” He follows you into the apartment. You take the wine from him and pour two glasses. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him, making sure to keep some distance between you.
You chat for a while, sipping your wine, and you find yourself enjoying his company. He tells you about his writing and how he's working on another book, and that he's glad that you've enjoyed the one he already published. You tell him about yourself, about how much you love to read, and he tells you he'll send you copies of the other books he has published.
The wine is flowing, and so is the conversation. Harry is really nice, and you find yourself wanting to spend more time with him. The bottle is empty and your cheeks are flushed, but not just from the alcohol.
“Well, I should probably head home.” Harry says, and the disappointment is evident on your face.
“No, don't leave yet.” You protest, and his eyes lock with yours. “I'm enjoying your company.”
“Well, alright. I can stay a bit longer.” He says, smiling.
You're not sure why, but you feel compelled to lean forward and kiss him. Maybe it's the wine, or the fact that he's just so fucking hot, or the stories and sex scenes in the book he had written. You're not sure, but something is driving you crazy, and you need him. Your lips crash against his, and it takes a moment for him to register what's happening. But when he kisses back, your heart flutters and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults.
You pull away and stare at him for a moment, and he looks at you with a mixture of lust and surprise in his eyes.
“Sorry.” You mutter. “I shouldn't have-“
He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, and more passionate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and your tongues collide, tasting each other. He pulls away and stares into your eyes, his lips slightly swollen and a smirk on his face.
“You're a good kisser.” He whispers.
“So are you.” You reply, a smile spreading across your lips.
He leans back in, kissing you more roughly than before, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. He begins trailing kisses down your neck and jawline, eliciting small whimpers and moans from you. He makes his way down your collarbones and chest, then moves back up to your ear.
“Y/N.” He whispers. “May I take this off?”
“Please.” You reply, almost begging. He grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head, revealing the lacy bra underneath. He stares at your breasts for a moment, drinking them in, before he dives down and sucks at the exposed skin. He moves to your other breast and does the same, and his other hand begins to unbutton his own shirt.
He removes his shirt, revealing his tattoos, and you can't help but stare. He has a slim yet muscular frame, and his arms are toned and strong. You trace the ink on his chest and torso with your fingers, and he watches your reaction with a smirk.
He stands up and grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you on the kitchen island. He leans down and kisses you again, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it's big, really big. You can't help but let out a moan at the thought of him fucking you with that monster.
He reaches around and unclasps your bra, pulling it off and exposing your breasts. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at it, while his hand plays with the other. You throw your head back and moan, grabbing at his curls and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and grinds his hips against yours, and you can feel his cock harden even more.
“Harry.” You moan. “I want you.”
He removes his mouth from your breast and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.
“Are you sure, love?” He asks, his accent sending shivers down your spine.
“Yes, please.” You beg, and he smirks. You're so eager and it's making him impossibly harder. He undoes his belt and his pants fall to the floor. You stare at his cock hiding in his black boxers, and your mouth waters. It's long and thick, and you know that it's going to feel amazing. He pulls off his boxers, and his cock springs free, standing proudly.
He grabs your jeans and tugs them down, revealing the matching pair of lace panties. He groans as he looks at you, and his fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down your legs.
“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking beautiful.” He breathes, taking in the sight of you. You're completely naked and exposed in front of him, and he can't help but marvel at how perfect you are. He leans in and kisses you, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him close. He grinds his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your wetness. He's teasing you, and it's driving you insane.
“Harry, please.” You whine, and he smirks.
“Please, what?” He teases, continuing his slow grinding.
“Please fuck me.”
He groans and searches for his wallet, finding a condom. He slides it on and lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. He fills you up completely, and you cry out, arching your back. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts moving. He sets a slow and steady pace, and you're moaning and whimpering.
“Fuck, Harry.” You gasp. “You're so big.”
“You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He groans. He thrusts his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you. You reach down and begin rubbing your clit, and the extra stimulation has you seeing stars. No wonder the smut in his books is good, the man himself knows exactly what he's doing.
His pace quickens and his breathing becomes laboured. He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the sounds that escape your mouth. He picks you up from the countertop and carries you over to the sofa, never breaking his rhythm. He lays you down and continues pounding into you, and you can feel the pressure building.
“Harry, I'm so close.” You moan, and he reaches down to rub your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He growls, and that's all it takes for you to come undone. You scream his name and arch your back as the orgasm rips through you. He keeps his pace, thrusting harder and faster, prolonging your pleasure.
When you come down from your high, he pulls out and grabs your legs, flipping you onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you and pushes back in, causing you both to moan. His hands grip your hips and he begins pounding into you, and his grunts fill the room.
“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking tight.” He groans, his voice thick with lust.
“Oh, god, Harry.” You moan. The sound of skin slapping skin and the scent of sex fills the air. He reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, and the pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. He thrusts his hips, filling you completely.
“Come for me again, love.” He commands.
“Yes, Harry, fuck.” You cry out, your walls tightening around his cock. You know that anyone passing by your apartment would definitely hear the sounds of sex, but you don't care. The only thing that matters is the feeling of him inside you.
You come undone once more, and he fucks you through your orgasm. He moans, his thrusts becoming erratic. You turn him on so much, he never wants to stop fucking you. His cock slides out of you and he pulls you back up, turning you around to face him.
“I want you to ride me, love.” He growls, his voice deep and rough. You straddle him, your wetness coating his cock. He positions himself at your entrance and you slide down, moaning as he fills you again. You start moving, your hips rocking against his.
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moans, and his hands grip your hips, guiding you. Your pace quickens and you can feel yourself getting close again. You look at him and his eyes are filled with lust and desire, and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.
Harry's lips crash into yours and his hands tangle in your hair. He breaks the kiss and his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You let out a string of curses and he groans against your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks on it, and his tongue swirls around it.
“Fuck, Harry.” You moan.
“Do you like that, love?” He asks, looking up at you with dark eyes.
“Yes, fuck, yes.” You reply, your voice wavering.
He continues his assault on your breasts, switching from one to the other. Your breathing is heavy and you can feel the pressure building again.
“Harry, I'm so close.” You breathe.
“Me too, baby. Come for me.” He growls, his fingers rubbing your clit. The combination of his cock filling you his mouth on your nipples and his fingers stroking your clit sends you over the edge, and you scream his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Your walls clench around his cock and he loses it, his thrusts become more erratic, and his breathing is laboured. He moans your name, and the sound is like music to your ears. He comes hard, and his cock pulses inside you.
You both collapse, breathing heavily. Your heart is racing and you can't believe what just happened. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You lie there in his arms, trying to catch your breath, the scent of sex and sweat filling the air.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Harry says, breaking the silence. “That was incredible.”
“Mhm, you're far better than your books.”
“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He chuckles. You snuggle into his arms, and he holds you tight. You've never felt so safe and secure in someone's arms, and you know that you're already falling for him.
#harry styles#allthelovehes#harry#styles#harry smut#fanfic#smut#imagine#one shot#fanfiction#harrystylesfanfiction#harryxreader#harry x reader#harry styles x reader#harry x you#harryxyou#harry x yn#harryxyn#writing#hot#author!harry#Author#author harry#author harry styles#neighbour#neighbours#neighbour!harry#neighbor#neighbors#neighbor!harry
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It took me longer than I wanted, but it’s finally here and I can’t keep editing it and putting this off. This is something I’ve been working on for a few weeks. It’s not exactly how I had planned it in my head, but I guess that’s how it goes. I was going to try something a little different so I do have a spicy bonus chapter that I was going to include as an extra, but I just don’t think I’m good at writing smut so I’m not sure if that will ever get posted. Let me know if you want it though.
Messages and comments appreciated! This is the first time I’ve ever attempted something like this so be kind please.
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Yoongi black cat hybrid X Female reader
Summary: When your good friend shows up in the middle of the night begging for your help, how can you say no. But what if their request makes you start questioning everything you’ve ever believed in?
Warnings: Physical abuse, sexual abuse, swearing, light smut (nothing too graphic), mention of no consent, mention of death/dying and murder, violence, weapons
Word Count: about 14,800 😯
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Shuffling to your front entrance you felt a range of emotions like anger at whomever was pounding on your door at 3am in the rain and also fear because someone was pounding on your door at 3am in the rain. Taking a peak through the front window the fear disappeared when you saw one of your best friends, Namjoon. However, that fear was now replaced with worry. Namjoon was not the type to be out at this hour unless he had a good reason and what concerned you most was what he wanted with you right now.
Swinging open the door he greeted you first, clearly in a hurry. He looked nervous.
“Hi Y/N. I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour, but there is nowhere else I can go. Can we please come in?”
“We?”, you asked brows furrowed.
Namjoon stepped aside and you saw the smaller frame that was hidden behind him, the hood of a sweatshirt blocking their face. Trusting that Namjoon wouldn’t bring anyone around that would hurt you, you motioned for them both to come inside and take a seat. You offered some towels to dry off and started the kettle on the stove to get them something warm to drink.
As you finally took a seat across from the two Namjoon cleared his throat, “Y/N I’m sorry again for just barging in like this. I just really need your help. It’s been kind of a rough night.”
You nodded, but remained silent as you waited for more information. The person sitting next to your friend had yet to make a sound or even look at you giving you an uneasy feeling.
Thankfully Namjoon took the hint and continued, “We completed a raid today. Something we’d been working on for a long time now.”
“Ahh there it is.”, you thought to yourself. Namjoon worked for the the Hybrid Protection Agency or HPA. They were like the FBI, but specialized in hybrid affairs. You had heard numerous stories of them raiding businesses and buildings that were being used as fronts for different illegal operations involving hybrids. You turned your attention back to your friend to hopefully find out what he wanted with you.
“Have you ever heard of Lee Yan?”, he asked.
“No I don’t think I have”, you shook your head not failing to notice the other person flinch at the mention of the name.
Namjoon continued, “He also goes by Viper.”
“Ooohhh.”, your heart skipped a beat. Viper was known as one of the most ruthless hybrid traffickers in the game. He didn’t care who he had to hurt or even kill to achieve his goals. He owned 90% of all hybrid operations and was consistently listed as the most wanted criminal in the HPA’s database. You’d heard Namjoon ramble on and on about how much of a scumbag he was.
“Well we’ve been watching him for a while now. We got wind that he was going to be in town tonight to check on one of his hybrid houses.”
Just hearing that name made you cringe. Hybrid Houses were technically legal because they operated under the guise that they were there for hybrids to use when their natural instincts kicked in. Thanks to the increasing costs of using Hybrid Houses more and more owners started opting to pay for suppressants while some of the harsher owners chose to force their hybrids to just push through it without any help at all by locking them away until it passed. So now the houses are still advertised as such, but really they’re mostly being used as coverups
You realized you’d been completely ignoring everything he was saying so you sat up a little straighter trying your best to focus.
“Anyways, we showed up and raided the place. We managed to rescue about sixteen hybrids. We arrested two of Vipers guys, but unfortunately he was able to get away. Most of the hybrids are being taken to local shelters, a few had to be taken to the hospital. But one of them needs some special care which is what brings me to you.”
“I’m sorry what?”, you asked choking on air. Namjoon knew better than anyone that you didn’t exactly agree with owning a hybrid or anything hybrid related. In your views they were people more than animals and should be treated as such, Therefore they shouldn’t need an owner and you hated the way the government basically deemed them property. Hybrids had fewer rights and protections than any other species and you hated it. Namjoon had attended a few Hybrid Rights rally’s with you so he knew your views on this and you were honestly a little angry he was even trying to bring you into this.
Namjoon chuckled, “I guess I should’ve introduced you from the start. This is Yoongi.”, Namjoon spoke gesturing to the person next to him.
Your eyes widened in surprise as the mysterious person slowly pulled down the hood of their sweatshirt. Barely poking out of the top of a mop of black hair were two black fuzzy cat ears. A long fluffy black tail curled out from behind him. With so much going on you hadn’t noticed that your friend’s new friend was a hybrid. The hybrid, or Yoongi as he was called, quickly made eye contact with you before returning his gaze back to the floor. He reached for his tail slowly combing his fingers through the fur. You figure it was probably a way of self soothing.
“Nam-, Namjoon I’m sorry but how am I supposed to help?”
“Right, so Yoongi is or uh was Vipers personal pet.”
The sound of that word made your stomach twist. He was a grown man and shouldn’t be considered anyones “pet” and it infuriated you that people even had thoughts like that.
“When Viper took off he left Yoongi behind probably thinking one of his men would protect him, but one of our guys took him in thinking he was just one of the hybrids from the house instead. We can’t take Yoongi to a shelter. Viper will have his guys scouting every shelter with 100 miles from here. It’s not safe for him to stay with me either since I could possibly have a target on my back. I need him to stay here with you.”
You felt bad for the chuckle that you let out knowing that this probably wasn’t Yoongi’s first choice either, but you just couldn’t stop it.
“Namjoon, I can’t just take in another person. I can barely afford to feed myself let alone someone else. Plus you know how I feel about owning hybrids. It’s wrong. They’re people and shouldn’t be owned like an animal.”
Yoongi felt an odd fluttering in his stomach. No one had ever referred to him as a person before.
“Look Y/N, I’m desperate. I’ll send some money your way to cover the extra food and stuff. And you don’t have to officially adopt him. We just need to keep him safe until we get Viper in custody and then I’ll figure something else out.”
Namjoon reached over and placed a hand on your knee. You knew when he resorted to physical touch that he was serious.
“Please Y/N, he’s been through hell and back and has nowhere else to go. I need someone that he can trust. That I can trust. I can’t let him get back into the hands of someone like Viper.”
You peaked over Namjoon’s shoulders to see Yoongi with his hands folded in his lap. His bangs plastered to his forehead and still damp from the rain. He looked at you for barely a second before looking away, but even in that quick glance you could see the desperation in his eyes. You could only imagine what he had been through. Someone like Viper couldn’t possibly treat his own hybrid well when to him all they were there were play things and money makers.
“Okay.”, you spoke barely above a whisper, but Namjoon still heard you. He smiled before looking back at Yoongi trying to give him a reassuring squeeze that everything was going to work out for the better.
Thankfully the kettle sounded giving you an out of the awkward situation. While in the kitchen preparing the drinks you could hear Namjoon and Yoongi whispering back and forth.
“She doesn’t want me here. I can just go back to my owner. I don’t want to be any more of a burden than I already am.”
“Trust me, she’ll come around. It’s just a lot to take in. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think she’d take good care of you.”
He was right. You would try your hardest to take care of him even if this situation isn’t exactly ideal for you.
After a drink and some pointless small talk you walked Namjoon to the door as he continued to give you instructions, “So don’t take Yoongi out of the house for any reason unless it’s an absolute emergency and call me immediately if you do. I’ll stop by with some clothes and stuff for him in a day or two plus some extra money.”
You nodded in agreement unsure of what else to say at that point. After he left you made sure to use all the locks on your door suddenly feeling a little less safe than normal. Yoongi was still sitting in the same spot on the couch not having touched his tea.
“I can make you something else to drink if you don’t like it. Or maybe something to eat? Are you hungry?”, you asked awkwardly.
“No thank you. I’m okay.”
“Okay… well… I’m gonna go take care of a few things. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded as you scampered up the stairs to your bedroom. After taking a few minutes to calm down and catch your breath you started grabbing whatever you could think he might need.
Digging through your drawers you found a t-shirt and a pair of old sweats that you thought should fit him after making a hole for his tail. Then in your closet you found an extra pillow and some blankets. Your spare bedroom was pretty much being used as storage so Yoongi was going to have to sleep on the couch which you felt terrible about so you decided to start looking online for a bed getting yourself distracted. You weren’t sure exactly how long he was going to be staying, but you figured it would be a couple weeks at least and you didn’t want him sleeping on the couch that whole time. You’d been meaning to finally set up the spare room so this was the kick you needed. You had to use pretty much every cent you had to afford everything, but it was needed.
After getting everything ordered you realized you had been locked away quite a while longer than you’d expected and got very worried about Yoongi. Rushing down the stairs with blankets and pillows in hand you found an empty couch.
“Fuck did he run away already?”, you panicked. Namjoon was going to kill you. Walking into the kitchen to find your phone you spotted a lump of black curled up in the corner. Getting closer you recognized the tail and ears. A wash of relief flooded over you as you bent down and tried to softly wake up the sleeping hybrid.
You tried to be as gentle as possible, but he still startled awake quickly backing into the corner before letting out a small hiss and curling in on himself.
“Hey it’s just me. It’s Y/N. I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to.”
He looked back at you with wide eyes, still unsure of you and the situation.
After he finally calmed down and realized it was only you he relaxed a little before standing up.
“Why are you sleeping on the floor to begin with?”, you asked concerned.
He shrugged, “You were gone a long time so I thought you just went to bed for the night. I didn’t know where you wanted me to sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I usually get put on the floor or in the garage, sometimes outside so I just chose right here.”
Your heart hurt at that while your face flushed with anger.
Stretching out your hand you motioned for him to follow you into the living room. After finishing setting up the couch you turned to Yoongi who was still shyly standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry you have to sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t have a spare bed at the moment. I did order one though which is why I was gone so long. It should be here in a day or two. But the couch is really comfy and I can get more blankets or pillows if you need them.”
While you felt like a terrible host for having him sleep on the couch, Yoongi looked at you like you’d just given him the world.”
“I-I can sleep on the couch?”, he asked still unsure.
“Yeah of course. Like I said I’m sorry I don’t have a bed for you but it’ll just be for a couple days.”
You saw the first glimpse of a smile before he went to sit down.
“Oh wait!”, you exclaimed and then made a mental note to try and not be as loud when you noticed how he flinched at your quick movements.
“Come with me.”, you motioned for him to follow you to the bathroom. When you got upstairs you showed him the clothes you’d laid out plus a towel, “I figured you’d like to take a hot shower and have a change of clothes. These should fit you for the night. If you bring your clothes downstairs I can put them in the wash so you’ll have them for tomorrow.”
An awkward silence filled the room as he looked around in disbelief so you just nodded before closing the door behind you and heading downstairs.
Thankfully the rest of the night went by smoothly and you’d almost forgotten all about the hybrid sleeping on your couch downstairs until you heard his soft snores filling the air. Peeking over the railing you spotted Yoongi still curled up in a little ball on the couch. You could see his ears swivel with the noise of a few birds chirping outside. How long had it been since he was able to sleep deeply like that?, you wondered.
As quietly as possible you tiptoed past him and made your way to the kitchen to get some coffee ready. About twenty minutes later Yoongi came walking into the kitchen looking incredibly grumpy. He was definitely not a morning person you thought to yourself.
“Good morning.”, you chuckled.
“Good morning.”, he scowled.
“Would you like some coffee or orange juice? I have some milk.”, you asked unsure of what his diet normally looked like.
“Water is okay.”
You nodded and handed him a glass.
“You can sit down you know.”, you said pointing to the chair across from you.
“Sorry. I’m not usually allowed on the furniture.”
“Yoongi you live here now too. At least for a while. You can sit on the furniture, watch tv, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You don’t have to be afraid. I promise nothing bad will happen to you here and I’m not going to hurt you.”
He nodded in understanding, but you could tell that there was still a lot of apprehension there.
“Speaking of which, what would you like for breakfast? I’m not the greatest cook, but I can get by.”
“I’m okay. I don’t need to eat anything.”, he shrugged, but his stomach said otherwise following with a loud grumble.
“How about some scrambled eggs and toast?”, you asked which he gratefully accepted.
He offered to clean up the kitchen for you after breakfast and then you both headed to watch a little tv and wait for Namjoon who said he’d be over in the afternoon. There was quite a bit of awkwardness in the air as you both sat on opposite sides of the couch neither of you really knowing what to say or do. After three episodes of some random baking competition show you had put on there was a knock at the door. Yoongi’s ears laid back into his hair as he scrambled to try and find a hiding spot before you could answer it.
“It’s just Namjoon.”, you said after peaking out the window.
Your friend walked in carrying several bags of clothes and supplies.
He and Yoongi carried everything up stairs before returning back to the couch. You offered Namjoon some water as you took a seat across from them.
“So how did last night go?”, he sighed.
“Alright, I think. I have a bed coming for Yoongi. Should be here soon.” You peaked over at Yoongi hoping he’d agree. He nodded his head.
Namjoon took a sip before continuing, “So I have an update about this whole situation. I got a call this morning that Viper has been located.”
Yoongi visible tensed up and you had to stop yourself from reaching out to him not feeling like you had that right yet.
“Okay so they caught him?”, you asked.
Apprehensively Namjoon continued, “Not exactly. The last tracking we have of him is at the airport. It appears he fled the country. We don’t know exactly to where, but our best guess is he probably went somewhere with super lax laws surrounding hybrids where he can hide out and be less likely to get caught.”
“Okkaaayy so what does that mean for Yoongi?”, you asked.
“Umm well he’s still not out of the woods yet. Viper will have his guys looking all over for him. We heard they were already at the shelters on 38th and another on Rose Ave asking about him so he’s going to have to stay here a little longer.”
“Oh okay that’s fine.”, you responded almost a little too quickly for your liking.
Suddenly Namjoon turned his attention to Yoongi,” Why don’t you go upstairs and start unpacking all the stuff I brought?”
Yoongi wasn’t dumb and he knew that was code for I need to talk to Y/N in private so with an eye roll he agreed and headed upstairs.
Once you heard the door close you turned your attention back to Namjoon, “Joon I guess I’m just not understanding why this guy would go through all the trouble to find Yoongi. Couldn’t he just find another hybrid to abuse? Like why is he so set on finding Yoongi that he has guys searching all over for him?”
He took a long deep breath before continuing. His voice barely above a whisper trying to stop Yoongi’s enhanced hearing from listening in.
“Well he’s more than just a pet.”
“Ugh please don’t use that word.”, you spat in disgust.
Namjoon chuckled., “Alright well I’m sure you’ve noticed that Yoongi is particularly attractive. Like more attractive than your average hybrid or person.”
You nodded your head because of course you had. Yoongi was very handsome with his chiseled jaw and cute button nose that sat perfectly under his beautiful cat eyes. His sweet gentle nature combined with his politeness made him all that more attractive on top of it. Unfortunately you were starting to have an idea of where Namjoon was going to be taking this conversation.
He snapped his finger at you, “Reel it back in Y/N. Daydream about Yoongi another time.”
You rolled your eyes before motioning for him to continue which he did, “Well because of that there are people in this world that will pay a pretty penny to spend a night with him, for whatever reason. Some want to fulfill their sexual fantasies as I’m sure you expected, others just want to have a companion, and some want to fulfill other desires that may not be so legal being done to other humans or animals. Either way Viper just lost his biggest moneymaker who brings in a lot of repeat and new customers so he’s not going to stop until he finds him.”
You felt sick thinking about how Yoongi and all these other hybrids have been treated.
“I just need him to stay here for a while. Maybe you can help him come out of his shell a little. You know show him that not all people are bad.”
You licked your lips, “Yeah sure. Of course he can stay here.”
Namjoon smiled, “Thank you Y/N. I owe you big time.”
“Yeah you definitely do.”, you chuckled.
Namjoon went up to say bye to Yoongi before coming back down and giving you a hug, “Alright I’ll keep you updated. Let me know if you need anything.”
The following morning Yoongi’s bed was delivered and thankfully he was quite handy building the bed by himself in just a little over an hour. You tried to help, but mostly just stood off to the side handing him whatever he needed and offering words of encouragement.
After the bed was made you stood back taking a look at the room that was slowly coming together.
“Maybe we can get you a tv or something. Or a computer? Do you have any hobbies?”, you said sneaking a look at him.
He shook his head, “Y/N, you’ve already done more for me than anyone else ever has. I don’t need anything else.”
His words hit you. The thought that having a small bed and a couple hot meals was more than this poor soul had ever received combined with what Namjoon had told you earlier, it broke you.
“Enjoy your room for a while. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”, you said before slipping out the door so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.
You may have gone a little overboard on ordering and definitely won’t be able to afford takeout for a while, but seeing the look on Yoongi’s face as he was devouring the pizza made it worth it. Over the last few months he had started opening up to you little by little. First it was little things like his favorite color or how he has always wanted to try pizza but was never allowed. He was still pretty skittish and didn’t seem to like being touched or even really be any closer than just sharing a couch. You didn’t blame him at all. But he had become a very important part of your life in a short time.
Then last night during a particularly severe thunderstorm you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door. Cracking it open you saw him standing there squeezing one of your favorite hoodies close to his chest. You wanted to question him about how and why he had it because you’d been looking for it for weeks, but the terror in his eyes diverted your attention. A loud clap of thunder rang through the air causing him to get low to the ground in fear using his hands and your hoodie to cover his ears. Without even thinking you grabbed his wrist pulling him into your room and tucking him in your bed. You thought he would protest, but he just burrowed deeper into the covers. Once back on your side the realization hit you that you were now sharing a bed with Yoongi, which other than a few accidental brushes against each other, was the closest the two of you had ever been.
You couldn’t deny that there had been some feelings brewing over the last couple weeks. You tried really hard to pushed them as far down as possible, but they kept coming to the surface. Yoongi had been through so much and there was no way you’d ever spring that on him, not right now. Especially when you had no idea at all if he even felt somewhat similar about you.
Another clap of thunder hit and you felt him jolt next to you with fear.
“Hey it’s okay. It’s just a storm. It should be over soon.”, you’d said trying to soothe him.
“I know, I’m sorry. It just loud noises sometimes scare me. It’s dumb.”
“Its not dumb. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He stayed silent for a few moments.
“Can you just hold me?”
His request stunned you into silence.
“N-never mind. It was a dumb idea.”
Before he could scoot away any further you grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him closer so your arms could fit over him. He buried his face in your neck and instantly you could feel some of the tension leave his body. You prayed he wouldn’t feel your heart about to beat out of your chest. You thought it would be awkward, but it actually felt quite nice and comforting. After giving him a few minutes to settle down you decided to bring up something you had been wondering about.
“Hey Yoongi?”
“Mmhm?”
“Why do you have my hoodie?”
The tension retuned.
“Umm well I found it one day when I was cold so I wore it but then I realized that it made me feel better. I just started hugging it when I feel overwhelmed or anxious and you’re not here or if I didn’t want to bother you. It smells like you and it helps me relax. You can have it back though. I’m sorry I took it without asking. Please don’t be mad.”
He panicked and tried to unwrap the fabric from his body, but you stopped him, “No no it’s okay. I was just wondering. You can keep it. I have a closet full of them. And you never bother me. Ever.”
After some reassurance he happily settled back down and not long after you heard the faintest rumble come from his chest. “Yoongi are you purring?”, you asked trying to hide how happy it made you that he felt so comfortable with you.
“Shut up. Sometimes I can’t help it.”, he said embarrassed that his body had betrayed him like that. He was trying to act mad, but even in the dark you could see the faint hint of a blush on his cheeks. You just chuckled before allowing him to snuggle in a little closer.
After a while you’d thought he had fallen asleep as the purrs died down, but then he spoke, “Thank you for letting me in here. I’m sorry I woke you up for this.”
“Don’t be sorry. I am always here for you. I promise.”
He chuckled, “I really hate thunderstorms. I feel like such a little kid sometimes.”
“Is it the loud noise?”
“Kind of, but it’s more than that.”
He then went on to tell you about one of Viper’s regulars, Mrs. Cho and how she’d always book time with him during thunderstorms because her husband was a meteorologist and was usually busy during those times. Apparently she was in to pain and he tried his best to describe the things she had forced him to do before his voice started cracking and you told him he didn’t have to go any further. Talking about those moments seemed to bring back a lot of painful memories for Yoongi as he spent the rest of the night clinging to you while whimpering himself awake every so often until you could soothe him back to sleep.
That night seemed to change something between the two of you. Over the following weeks Yoongi became a lot cuddlier, often choosing to sit next to you while watching tv and getting into bed with you at night even if there wasn’t a storm outside. You both cooked meals together, his arms around you more than he actually helped cook. He’d help you in your garden since it was only in your backyard blocked off by a fence and he liked getting some fresh air. Your feelings grew deeper and deeper too, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to say anything. It wasn’t worth the risk of ruining everything you had with him.
So that’s why you decided to splurge and surprise him today with a pizza party thanks to the bonus you got at work. You knew it wouldn’t just magically make everything better, but it also couldn’t make it worse.
He told you over and over how the pizza was the best thing he’d ever tasted and you had to keep reminding him not to overdue it so he didn’t get a tummy ache.
You were just finishing up the dishes when a knock at the door pulled your attention that way. Like usual whenever someone came over Yoongi bolted for his room to hide until he knew it was safe to come out. You were a little nervous to open the door yourself. They still hadn’t caught Viper and you hadn’t heard from Namjoon in several days which was weird and there was an incident at the grocery store last week where you swore a man was following you, but nothing ever came of it so you chalked that up to just some creep following you around.
After peaking out the window you excitedly swung the door open before jumping into the man’s arms.
Yoongi sensing that you weren’t in danger peeked around the corner and saw you hugging it out with some guy. It made his chest constrict, a feeling he didn’t like. He knew he was starting to have feelings for you, he thought he had pushed those all the way down, but apparently not. He made his way down the stairs to the two of you standing right beside you so you’d notice him which of course you did right away.
“Yoongi! I’m glad you’re here. I want to introduce you to my good friend. This is Jungkook.”
The two men nodded a greeting at each other. You missed the way Jungkook eyed Yoongi up and down. Suddenly Yoongi got a really uneasy feeling about this person. He tried pulling you into the other room, but you brushed him off. You invited them both to take a seat with you but you were a little surprised that Yoongi decided to sit right next to you almost on your lap, but still between you and Jungkook. His tail was puffed up and swinging shortly showing his agitation as he glared at you friend.
“So Kookie how have you been?”, you asked offering him a drink.
“Kookie? Why don’t I have a nickname?”, Yoongi scoffed to himself.
“Pretty good. Traveling a lot. How have you been?”, Jungkook asked.
“Good, working a lot.”
The two of you went back and forth making light conversation. Yoongi was getting more and more angry as time went on. He just did not like this Jungkook, but he couldn’t quite place why. He knew a part of it was jealousy because it was clear you and Jungkook
had some history from the stories you told and he knew you’d never be interested in him in that way as much as he was starting to want that.
After what felt like hours you finally walked Jungkook to the door with Yoongi following close behind.
“It was so nice to see you Y/N.”, he smiled.
“Yeah of course. You, me, and Namjoon will have to get together some time. Just like our old college days.”
You both chucked followed by Jungkook extending his hand out towards Yoongi. That’s when Yoongi saw it. On Jungkook’s wrist was a tattoo of a snake. Or more specifically a viper. It was a marking that all of the close associates of Viper had and THAT is why Yoongi didn’t like this guy. He was bad news.
Without thinking he lunged forward attacking Jungkook. His need to protect you overtaking his fear for a moment. You looked on in shock before realizing what happened. By that time Jungkook had already thrown a punch causing Yoongi to fall to the ground.
“Bye Y/N. See you around.”, he said before smirking at Yoongi who was still laying on the floor.
“What the hell Yoongi? Why did you do that?”, you said dropping to your knees next to him.
Softly you moved his hand seeing the welt already forming on this cheek.
“Come on. Let’s get some ice.”
Back in the kitchen and with a bag of frozen peas on his face you went back to scolding him, “You can’t just go around attacking people Yoongi. You could get in a lot of trouble. Especially as a hybrid they’ll look for any reason to deem you as a delinquent.”
Yoongi continued to stare at the floor.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”, you asked letting more of your annoyance show through than you had planned.
“Jungkook works for Viper.”
“No he doesn’t. He works with Namjoon for the HPA.”, you chuckled.
“Y/N, I’m serious. He has the viper tattoo. I saw it.”
You were starting to feel the frustration bubbling.
“Yoongi lots of people have Viper tattoos. It’s like a pretty common thing.”
He shook his head, “No it’s a specific tattoo that all his closest guys get. It’s like some initiation bullshit or something.” He took a breath before continuing, “They only get it after they’ve proven their loyalty by murdering a hybrid.”
“There’s no way. Jungkook would never do that. He’s always been for trying to improve hybrid rights.”, you shook your head.
Yoongi removed the bag of peas revealing the red welt, “Y/N I’ve seen that tattoo hundreds and hundreds of times. I know what I saw.”
You still didn’t want to believe him. Jungkook was one of your closest friends. You never would’ve let someone like that into your life. Unable to stop the words from spilling out of your mouth you’d told up backing away from him.
“You’re just jealous Yoongi.”
He scoffed, “Of what?”
“Because for the last couple months I’ve been devoting all my attention and energy to you until now when I showed the slightest bit of attention towards another guy so now you’re making up lies to make me hate him. You only want me for yourself.”
Now it was his turn to laugh, “For what? You’re just my temporary owner. Fuck every guy in the city. I don’t care. I’m just trying to protect myself and that means not having that guy around.”
His words stung you a little. You were starting to catch feelings, but to him you were just another human that had ownership of him as a pet, nothing more.
“You’re lying.”, you whispered.
“Y/N I’m not lying. You need to call Namjoon. Now! We’re both in danger.”
You shook your head, “I can’t believe you Yoongi. I never thought you’d become such a problem hybrid.”
You heard him audibly gasp and you instantly regretted saying it. While referring to a hybrid as a problem hybrid might not seem like much of an issue to a human, to a hybrid it was considered derogatory since they have had to fight for a long long time to prove that they too could be a productive part of society with no issues just as any human could. So calling one a problem hybrid deemed them a lost cause and basically meant they should just be locked away and remain nothing more than a pet on a leash.
“I’m sorry Yoo-.”, you tried to say reaching forward for him, but before you could finish he threw the bag down on the table and ran up to his room slamming the door behind him.
It had been a week since you last saw Yoongi. He refused to eat meals with you. He no longer sat behind you while you worked or cuddled next to you while watching tv. Your bed felt colder and lonelier too after you’d gotten used to him quietly crawling in with you in the middle of the night.
At the end of the week you decided to reach out to Namjoon to ask for advice, luckily for you he contacted you on his own through text. You figured he was probably somewhere that he couldn’t really talk out loud.
Joon: Hey how are things going? Sorry I’ve been MIA. Just a lot going on.
You: Honestly, been better.
Joon: Yeah I wanted to talk to you about that. Yoongi contacted me the other day. He said something about wanting to go to a shelter.
You felt like you were going to be sick. You had tried to apologize several times for the problem hybrid situation, but he never wanted to hear it. You had no idea that he hated you so much he’d rather risk it living in a shelter, but you also couldn’t really blame him.
You: Yeah I let my emotions get the best of me and said something that I shouldn’t have. I really don’t want him to leave, but I won’t force him to stay.
Joon: Technically since you’re not his owner you can’t force him to stay anyways. It’s just still not safe out there and if he goes to a shelter it’s only a matter of time until they find him. What set this all off? Maybe I can talk to him.
You: I don’t even know any more. Jungkook showed up and Yoongi just attacked him. Said he was working with Viper. And then we got in an argument.
You: Have you seen Jungkook recently?
Joon: No I haven’t. He suddenly quit the agency about 9 months ago and I haven’t heard from him since.
Joon: Listen Y/N, I know you and Jungkook have or had a thing, but maybe it’s best to listen to Yoongi. He’s been in Vipers world most of his life. He knows a lot and if he’s saying Jungkooks bad news then he means it.
You: I just don’t see how that is possible. He’s a good guy.
Joon: Sometimes the worst people are the best at hiding their true colors. Just stay away from him until I do some more digging. Please. For yours and Yoongi’s safety. I’m going to talk to Yoongi and try to convince him to stay with you for now. I think it’s best.
You: Alright. Keep me updated. Stay safe yourself.
Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you knocked on Yoongi’s door with a shaky hand. Surprisingly he opened the door which you were not expecting so admittedly you were not prepared.
“Umm I just got off the phone with Namjoon. He said you wanted to go to a shelter instead. I’m not going to force you to stay.”
You handed him a couple old duffel bags you had, “So here are some bags. You’re welcome to take anything in the room. It’s all yours. Namjoon is going to look around and decide where he thinks it’ll be the safest for you to go.”
Gently he grabbed the bags from you. Just before he closed the door again you stopped him, “Oh and Yoongi, I’m really sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”
Namjoon tried for several days to convince Yoongi to stay, but ultimately he was stubborn and had already made his decision. Namjoon had his sister pick him up early in morning a few days ago to take him to a shelter about three hours away. Namjoon wouldn’t tell you the exact location for your safety so that’s as much as you got. Now as you laid in bed trying to fall asleep while there was a raging thunderstorm going on outside you couldn’t help but worry about him. Was the storm hitting his area? How was he coping? He’d surely have a nightmare and you felt awful not being there to comfort him, but this is what he wanted even though it was all because of you.
You were just finally starting to fall asleep when a loud knock at your door woke you up. Tempted to ignore it, especially at this hour, you turned over trying to fall back asleep when you heard another knock. Then the possibilities flooded you. What if something happened to Yoongi? What if it was Yoongi?!
Jumping out of bed you sprinted down the stairs forgoing even checking who it was and swinging open the door praying to find Yoongi only to be met with the person who brought this all on.
“Hi Y/N, sorry to drop in like this again.”, Jungkook smiled.
You invited him in even though Yoongi and Namjoon’s words replayed in your head. You watched as he looked around your home before taking a seat.
“What do I owe the pleasure?”, you asked suddenly feeling uncomfortable with him here alone with you.
“Just thought I’d stop by. I was in the area again. Maybe we could go to that diner on Main. Like old times.”, he laughed.
You don’t know if it was the warnings or what, but this definitely didn’t feel like all the old times when Jungkook would show up at your door in the middle of the night wanting to go get chocolate chip pancakes while you both told corny jokes and laughed until the waitress finally had to kick you guys out. This felt darker, sinister even. Only made worse when you noticed the piece of black metal clinging to his hip that he tried to hide with his leather jacket. Jungkook had always been against violence especially anything that included weapons. You remembered when he first started training for the agency and had to learn how to assemble and use a gun. He despised it, almost quitting because of it, but he knew it was for the better of the hybrid community. If he really had quit the agency like Namjoon said then he would’ve had to turn in all of his weapons so the fact that he had one on him made your uneasiness all that more prominent.
“Yeah let me go grab my purse!”, you exclaimed trying to get away from him now realizing something was up. He grabbed your hand stopping you from going any further, “No need Y/N. I’ll pay.”
“Oh well at least let me go get dressed. I don’t want to go out looking like such a slob.”, you chuckled quickly bolting up the stairs before he could stop you again.
In your room with the door closed you frantically searched for your phone wanting to call Namjoon or the police or anyone for help.
Finding it lying on the floor you grabbed it quickly searching your contacts. In your frazzled state you failed to hear anyone creep up behind you until it was too late and you felt the cold metal against the warmth of your forehead.
A strong arm pulling you close against a body much bigger than yours.
“Y/N, put the phone down. You don’t want to do that.”, Jungkook growled in your ear.
“Why are you doing this?”, you asked slowly tossing your phone on the bed. “You were against abuse towards hybrids just like me and Namjoon. Now you work with the worst in the business?”, you questioned him.
“Look, I really don’t want to have to hurt you. I still care about you Y/N. That’s the only reason I didn’t just kill you the other night and take Yoongi then. Tell me where he is and I’ll let you go.”
You shook your head, “I don’t know. They took him this morning.”
You could hear him scoff as he pushed the tip of the gun against your forehead a little harder making you flinch in fear.
“Y/N, I won’t ask again. Where did they take Yoongi?”, he shouted.
“A shelter in North Provence. That’s all they told me.”, you spit out.
You cried tears of relief when you felt him pull the gun away before throwing you down on the ground.
“Thanks Love.”, was all he said before sprinting out of your home.
Quickly grabbing your phone you dialed Namjoon’s number.
North Provence was at least six hours away from you so double the time Namjoon had told you, hopefully buying you some time.
You called him twelve times before giving up.
You knew you had to get to Yoongi and make sure he was safe and apologize for everything. He had been right about Jungkook, but you had no idea where he was. Three hours away could be in any direction.
While getting dressed as quickly as possible you suddenly remembered that Namjoon had a cousin who ran a non-profit hybrid organization that would take in hybrids, rehab them, and then adopt them out. If you remembered correctly it was located about two hours and fifty minutes from you. You didn’t know if you were correct, but it was the only lead you had.
Making the drive there in record time you reached the shelter just as they were opening. You still hadn’t been able to contact Namjoon so you were doing this solo.
Namjoon’s cousin, Jin, greeted you at the front desk.
“Oh hey Y/N! It’s been ages. I really need to get on Joonie to start coming around more.”
You tried to smile, “I know , I know, I completely agree.”
“So what can I do for you?”
Trying to hide the shake in your voice unsure of how much Jin knows you took a deep breath, “Well I’d really like to adopt a hybrid and I knew this was the perfect place to come.”
He chuckled, “Well you certainly did come to the right place. Do you know what you’re looking for? We just got in this Labrador hybrid. His name is Hoseok or Hobi for short. He is the sweetest ray of sunshine and I think you’d love him.”
“He does sound very nice, but I was looking for more of a cat hybrid. Maybe a black cat?l
Jin looked up at the ceiling, “Hmm you know we do have a few cats. Come on back with me and see if there’s any that CATch your eye.”
He laughed hysterically at his own joke so you giggled along trying to hide the fact that you were two seconds away from vomitting.
“So right now we have four cat hybrids up for adoption. I think you’d really get along with Jimin the most. He’s not a black cat, but he’s very cuddly and playful. He’ll seriously be your best friend.”
You nodded taking a look though the glass rooms. You knew the owners of the shelters were just doing their best to find homes for the hybrids, but it felt so wrong walking through a long hallway staring into these rooms holding people for you to buy.
As mentioned Jin introduced to Jimin who immediately came walking up to the glass. Jin told you that Jimin was a Russian blue cat hybrid. He had beautiful fluffy gray hair and the prettiest greenish blue eyes. He shyly waved to you. Jin explained that Jimin had been rescued from a hybrid hording situation. He was very sweet and you had almost considered adopting him, but you had a different mission at the moment.
As much as it pained you to walk away you asked Jin to see the rest of the cat hybrids, but much to your dismay none of them were Yoongi.
“So see any that you like?”, Jin asked excitedly.
“They’re all very nice and I want them to all have good homes, but I was really looking for a black cat.”
Jin look apprehensive, “Weeeelllll we do have one black cat hybrid, but I don’t think he’s ready for adoption yet. Maybe if you’re willing to wait a couple months then you could adopt him. He’s only been here like a few days and he’s just really depressed and anxious. The thunderstorm last night really set him off.”
The more he described the hybrid the more it sounded like Yoongi.
You grabbed onto Jins arm, “Oh please let me see him! Please Jin!”
He looked at you confused by your excitement.
“I don’t know Y/N. I think a visitor would only stress him out more and I don’t want to do that.”
“Jin please. I promise I won’t even say anything to him. I just want to see him. Maybe it’ll help me decide if I’m really set on a black cat.”
“You’re lucky I love you like a sister.”, he sighed before leading you through a set of double doors.
Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.
“Just please try not to startle him. It seems like he’s been through a lot.”, he said leading you to a small room at the end of the hall.
Softly you tiptoed in front of the window. He was laying on a cot facing the wall. All you could see was black hair with two black ears poking out. That could be any cat hybrid and not necessarily Yoongi. You wanted to shout his name or beg for him to turn around. Anything to see his face.
You went to ask a question when suddenly an alarm sounded through the building.
“Sorry Y/N, I have to go check on that. I’ll be right back.”, Jin said before sprinting towards the back of the building.
You turned around prepared to gently knock on the glass now that Jin wasn’t around when you saw a familiar pair of eyes already looking back at you.
You’d found him. Quickly you began banging on the glass, “Yoongi are you okay? Yoongi please talk to me.”
Unfortunately he was uninterested in talking and turned back around to face the wall. His tail swaying lazily back and forth.
“Yoongi please! You were right about every thing. About Jungkook. He works for Viper.”
Still no reaction from him other than his tail coming to a halt .
“He showed up at my house. He held a gun to my head demanding to know where you were.”
That seemed to get his attention even more. You saw his ears swivel in your direction.
“I lied and sent him somewhere far away, but it’s only a matter of time until he figures it out. I need to get you out of here. Please Yoongi.”
You don’t know when you started crying, but you could feel the tears soaking the top of your shirt. Between the exhaustion and the stress and the fear you were reaching a breaking point.
Falling to your knees your face fell into your hands while you just sobbed. It wasn’t until you heard a tapping on the glass did you look up to see Yoongi kneeling in front of you on the other side. His palm pressed to the glass as he nodded.
Finally the alarm turned off which meant Jin could be back at any moment. You tried your best to wipe away the tears as you heard quick footsteps coming in your direction.
Thinking back to your high school drama days you you knew you were going to have to put on an act.
“I am so sorry about that Y/N. One of the staff members forgot to turn off the security alarm before going out the back door to receive a shipment. Have you given it anymore tho-, why are you crying?”, Jin said coming to an abrupt stop next to you.
You chuckled, “Sorry. You know me and how I get so emotional sometimes. Yoongi was just telling me about his past and I just feel so terrible about what he went through.”
Jin looked at you skeptically. Yoongi hadn’t spoken a word to anyone but he just told you his entire life story?
“Jin, I want to adopt him. Please.”
He looked between you and Yoongi. “No I don’t think that’s a good idea”., he shook his head.
“Jin, what’s the motto of this organization?”
“Everyone deserves a chance.”, he sighed.
“Sooo give me and Yoongi a chance.”
He looked over at Yoongi who gave him a nod.
Jin ran his fingers through his hair, “Alright, but don’t make me regret this. Either of you!”
Jin pulled you into a back room to fill out some paperwork. Thankfully he gave you the family and friends discount so you were able to afford the adoption fee.
As you were standing near the exit waiting for Jin to return with Yoongi you couldn’t help but feel the fear building now that you had found him. You tried calling Namjoon a couple more times, but without luck.
When Jin finally appeared with Yoongi following behind he handed you some more paperwork along with the bags that Yoongi had taken from your place.
You both ran off to your car and you didn’t waste any time to begin driving wanting to get away from the shelter just in case.
Yoongi had been silent this whole time until you heard his stomach grumble. You made sure to drive out a little further before stopping at a restaurant to grab something to eat.
After taking a sip of his milk he looked you up and down, “So what do we do now Y/N?”
“Well” you said finishing up the bite of your omelette. “To be honest I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d actually find you and if I did I didn’t think you’d leave with me. I’ve been calling Namjoon repeatedly, but he’s not answering. I don’t know who else we can trust.”
The table fell silent again as you both ate.
While Yoongi was staring out the window you took the opportunity to really look at him. He was noticeably thinner than you remembered. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. His lips extra chapped from licking them, a nervous habit of his you learned. His head hung lower than ever. You wanted to engulf him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you knew you’d lost that right so you decided on an apology instead.
“Hey Yoongi.”, you’d said pulling his attention back to you.
“I, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for that night that Jungkook came over. I should’ve listened to you. I just didn’t want to believe that someone I had been so close to would have become such a terrible person. And I’m especially sorry for what I said. You’re not a problem hybrid. You’re the opposite actually.”
Unable to take his glare anymore you turned your attention back to your coffee.
He cleared his throat, “Im sorry for what I said too. I guess I just got a little jealous seeing how close you were with him. And then when I realized who he was I wanted to protect you and I was getting stressed out that you weren’t letting me.”
A silence fell over the table again except for you thanking your waiter for refilling your coffee.
“And uh thank you for coming for me. To be honest, I regretted leaving as soon as I got in the car.”, Yoongi whispered while staring into his pancakes. You gave him a smile before finishing up your meal.
“Well I have no idea what to do now. We can’t go to my place. Namjoon isn’t answering. I can’t really afford a hotel for more than a couple night.”
Yoongi took a final sip of his drink, “I might know someone we can trust. Can I borrow your phone?”
You were unsure, but you learned your lesson for not trusting him the first time so you handed it over and watched as he walked over to the entrance. After paying the bill you gathered your things and met him by the car.
“I have somehwere we can go. Just get on the highway and I’ll give you the directions.”
You did as he said ending up driving about two hours south before pulling up to a large farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A perfect spot for a murder to go unsolved you thought. A man sitting on the porch swing sipping away on an iced tea got up ready to greet you.
Yoongi sensing your anxiousness reached over placing his hand on your knee, “We can trust him. I promise.”
You nodded still unsure but got out of the car following after him.
The man walked over and embraced Yoongi in a hug.
“Hello Taehyung. Thank you for taking us in.”, he said pulling away.
“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”, the man spoke in a very deep tone.
The two of them spoke in whispers giving you the chance to really look this Taehyung over. He had beautifully fluffy golden blond hair with deep amber eyes. Then you noticed two tiny little ears poking out of the locks and a long thin tail slowly swaying behind him. It appeared that he was a lion hybrid, which was extremely rare. Exotic hybrids were hard to come by, especially living out on their own in the countryside.
You were woken out of your thought when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you., “Ahh and this must be your friend you were telling me about. You’re right hyung, she is very beautiful.” You stifled a chuckle, but heard a very embarrassed Yoongi mumble something about needing to learn to keep his mouth shut before turning a bright shade of red.
Taehyung opened the door motioned for you two to follow him, “Come on in. I’ll show you to your rooms.”
You both followed him up the stairs and down a very long hallway. Taehyung was very friendly, but definitely a talker you learned. You felt like you were on museum tour the way he described each piece of artwork or architecture.
“I didn’t know if you two were going to be sleeping separately or together but just in case I have both options ready for you.”, he said opening two different bedroom doors.
You and Yoongi looked at each other awkwardly causing the lion hybrid to chuckled, “Well you two can figure it out together. I’ll let you get some rest and come get you when dinner is ready.”
You both agreed that it would be best to sleep in the same room, for safety reasons of course and not because there was definitely something still brewing between the two of you.
“So how do you know Taehyung?”, you asked trying to break the silence.
Yoongi sat down on the bed, “Well uh he actually used to also be owned by Viper and we were pretty close back then. Since he’s younger I always tried to protect him as much as I could. He managed to escape a few years ago though. We kept in touch the best we could. He always tried to get me to escape too, but I was just too afraid.”
“So what do we do now?”, you asked.
“I don’t really know. The easy answer is hideout and hope they’re able to arrest Viper before they find us. But I have a feeling it won’t be that simple.”
You chuckled, “Yeah me too.”
Taehyung called you both down for dinner. He greeted you in the kitchen with two glasses of wine.
At the stove stirring a pot was a beautiful woman. She didn’t appear to be any part hybrid, but fully a human like yourself. She greeted you with a smile, “Oh hi! You must be Y/N, Yoongi’s girlfriend.” The sip of wine went down wrong causing you to choke at her words. Yoongi threw Taehyung a glare causing him to put his hands up in defense.
The woman chuckled, “Sorry about that. My name is Lilly. I’m Taehyung’s wife.”
“Oh nice to meet you.”, you smiled.
She turned back to the stove playfully swatting Taehyung’s hand away from the bacon wrapped asparagus that were set out on a platter before he apologized with a kiss.
They looked really in love and after everything had happened it made your heart bubble with happiness to see it. It was not illegal for a human and a hybrid to get married, but it was extremely frowned upon by both the government and citizens alike forcing most hybrids and humans to never cross that line. You had never seen an issue with it and seeing a couple so happy made you really glad they had that option.
“Alright, let’s sit for dinner.”, Taehyung exclaimed clapping his hands together. Throughout the dinner Yoongi and Taehyung caught up and told stories. You and Lilly got to know each other. You had just finished up the last of the dishes when Taehyung invited everyone out to the back patio for a couple drinks.
“Soooo what are your next steps?”, he asked.
You had such a nice evening that you had honestly forgotten all about the whole reason you were there to begin with.
He continued, “You know Viper is going to have guys looking all over for you. Hell he’s probably still got them looking for me too.”
You hadn’t realized just how much Taehyung was also risking by having you guys there. He could be caught and imprisoned again.
Yoongi cleared his throat, “We’re not sure. Hopefully we can hide out here for a few days and then figure something out. Maybe finally get in contact with Namjoon.”
You nodded along in agreement.
“Well you’re both welcome to stay here as long as you need. We’ll help in any way we can.”, Lilly spoke up.
The next few days you and Yoongi spent a lot of time together trying to help out around the farm as much as possible.
Lilly and Taehyung had made a trip into town to get some supplies leaving just the two of you alone.
You were sitting on the couch cuddled liked you used to. Your back leaning against his chest. His arm lazily around your shoulder while his tail tickled your sides.
You were so engrossed in the movie that you hadn’t noticed Yoongi’s fingers lightly running up and down the exposed skin of your thigh until you noticed the goosebumps he was leaving behind. Slowly he seemed to be testing his limits by going higher and higher.
After a couple minutes of this you looked back at him catching his attention.
“What?”, he chuckled.
“Nothing.” Just as you’d figured he didn’t even realize he was doing it and there was no meaning behind his actions.
Then at some point his light touches turned into desperation. You don’t know how one thing lead to another, but somehow you ended up back in your room. Clothes discarded all over until you were left in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi fell back onto the bed pulling you on top of him. You happily obliged moving to straddle him making it more comfortable for you both. Hungrily you searched for his mouth wanting more. You ground down on him eliciting a moan that only encouraged you more. He helped push you down onto him again this time guiding you to hit just the right spots. You felt his soft tail wrap around your waist giving just a little extra bit of force. Between kisses and filthy words the cloth between the two of you became too much of a barrier to take any more. Without thinking you hooked your finger under the waistband of his boxers ready to release him when suddenly something snapped in Yoongi.
He wasn’t in bed about to make love to you, a woman that he cared deeply for, some might even say love. Instead he was back in one of Vipers “play” rooms. Loud music blaring, some person he didn’t know who had paid a handsome amount of money to have their way with him was grabbing him without his consent.
“Stop! Don’t touch me.”, he shouted making you recoil back like he had burned you. Maybe you had misread the situation after all.
“Yoongi what happened?”, you asked concerned. Instead of responding he fled back. Burying himself under the covers. You could hear the sobs come from beneath.
Quickly you threw on a shirt, yours or his it didn’t matter and gently made your way next to him careful not to touch him.
“Yoongi, it’s Y/N. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. You are just here with me. We’re at Taehyung’s. Remember?”
After a few minutes and a couple more affirmations his breathing started to slow and he peaked out from underneath the covers.
You smiled, “Hey are you okay? Can I get you anything? Maybe some water?”
He shook his head but you felt his fingers come rest against your hand before he intertwined them with your own trying to ground himself and bring him back to reality.
You gave him time to calm down. You didn’t dare move or speak for fear of setting him off.
“I’m sorry.”, he whispered after several minutes.
Lightly you giggled, “What are you sorry about silly? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I ruined the moment. You probably think I’m some kind weirdo.”
You shook your head, “That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’m sorry that I didn’t check with you more. I should’ve been more careful.”
He pulled your hand closer to him so he could snuggle in your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair.
“I, I would like to try again one day. If that’s okay with you.”, he mumbled into your skin. The vibrations making you chuckle.
“Of course. Whenever you’re ready we can try again.”
You woke up the next morning to loud pounding on the door. Forgetting where you were more a minute you ignored it until you heard Taehyung’s voice. Jumping out of bed you were thankful you had both managed to get some clothes on after last night when you swung open the door. A very disheveled looking Taehyung greeted you.
“We need to get out of here.”, he exclaimed.
You looked back at him in confusion thankful that Yoongi had finally joined you.
He continued, “I just got a call from one of my friends in town. They saw Viper and a couple of his crew walking around. He’s onto us and it’s only a matter of time until they’re here. Grab what you can and meet me in the garage. We’ll take my truck.” Lilly came running up m to him ready to go but he shook his head, “It’s way too dangerous. Go up in the attic and lock the door. Use all of the locks. Stay quiet and don’t answer the door for anyone other than me. Just like we practiced. Okay?” She nodded and gave him a kiss before running up to the attic as instructed.
Meanwhile you and Yoongi grabbed your belongings which thankfully wasn’t much and made your way out to the garage where Taehyung was already waiting. You were barely in the truck before he sped off leaving the farmhouse behind.
“Fuck, where are we gonna go?”, Yoongi asked running a hand through his hair.
“How did they even find us so fast?”, you asked.
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, “I have no idea. Viper runs a very large operation. He probably has guys stationed in every city.”
Taehyung drove for hours only stopping for a bathroom break and to get some gas.
“What are we going to do? We can’t just drive around forever?”, you asked once back in the truck.
“A buddy of mine lives a little west of here. He’s an ex HPA officer. Maybe he can help us out.”, Taehyung said turning to Yoongi for assurance.
You were half way to your destination when your phone rang. The screen illuminated with Namjoon’s picture. You’ve never accepted a call so fast.
“Hello”
“Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry I haven’t be reachable. Some crazy shit has gone down.”
“Yeah you’re telling me.”
“Where are you?”, he asked.
“I have no idea. We’re with one of Yoongi’s friends. He was right about Jungkook. He works for Viper now.”
“I know. It’s unfortunate. Y/N, I’m going to send you my location. You guys can meet me here. I can get you somewhere safe.”
“Okay Joon. We’ll see you soon.”
As promised you received his location not long after. Taehyung punched it into his gps and made a uturn.
“Are you sure we can trust this guy?”, he asked feeling a little uneasy. You didn’t blame him after everything he’s been through.
“Yeah. I’ve known him since we were kids. He works for the HPA. He’s the one that initially brought Yoongi to me.” Yoongi nodded in agreement.
After an hour drive the truck pulled up to an abandoned looking warehouse close to the main river.
“Are you sure this is the location?”, Yoongi asked looking around and you quickly showed him your phone to verify.
You dialed Namjoon’s number surprised that he quickly answered.
“Hey are you sure that locatjon was correct? It’s like a creepy looking factory or something?”, you asked.
He chuckled, “Yeah yeah I know it looks rough but I’m inside. We’ve got a little operation running.”
Hanging up the three of you exited the truck and started walking towards the open door. Taehyung lead the way with Yoongi following close behind. He pulled you against him needing to know that you were safe there with him.
Inside the warehouse you didn’t see a whole HPA operation set up like you had imagined. Instead you found Namjoon tied to a chair with several men surrounding him all pointing their guns at the three of you.
You noticed that each man had the same viper tattoo that Jungkook had. Namjoon looked at you apologetically. His eye was bruised and his lip had clearly been spilt open.
“I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m sorry I brought you into this mess.”, he cried.
Instinctively you went to run to him but Yoongi stopped you. Pulling you close against him again. You wanted to protest, but were cut off by a high pitched laugh.
A strange man came walking in directly towards Yoongi positioning himself at eyelevel. “Well well well, you didn’t really think you could hide from me did you Kitty?”, he spoke running his finger delicately along Yoongi’s cheek.
You noticed the large Viper tattoo front and center on his chest. It didn’t take much to figure out that you were looking directly Viper himself.
Then as if you called him by thinking of him he set his sights on you hiding behind Yoongi.
“Ohhhh I see you’ve got yourself a little girlfriend. How adorable.”, he laughed.
“Don’t touch her.”, Yoongi spat.
“Please, I don’t want anything to do with your whore. The hybrid fucker can get lost for all I care.”
Viper walked closer to Yoongi until he was a mere inch from his face, “You know you’ve cost me a lot of money and time over the last few months. You’re going to have to make this all up to me.”
“Fine, just let Y/N go free.”, Yoongi said.
“No Yoongi, you can’t do that.”, you cried reaching for him, but Viper snapped his fingers and two of his men came over dragging you away. You tried your best to fight free, but they overpowered you.
As you were being pulled away you saw Viper kick his foot into Yoongi’s stomach dropping him to his knees in pain.
Something off to the side took his attention away from Yoongi though and you saw his face light up into a disgusting grin, “Tae is that you? I thought I lost you forever. This day just keeps getting better.”
Taehyung let out what could only be described as low roar making you jump in surprise forgetting for a moment that he was half lion.
“Stand down you overgrown house cat.”, Viper scoffed.
“Leave him alone. You have me now. Just like you wanted.”, Yoongi shouted.
You watched as Viper strolled over back Yoongi before backhanding him so hard causing Yoongi to fall over.
You screamed out his name, tears streaming down your face at the abuse he was receiving.
Viper rolled his eyes annoyed at the scene you were causing. He pointed to one of his men that currently had a death grip on your arm, “Finish her.”
Once again you felt the familiar cold metal against your skin.
“Noooo, don’t fucking touch her.”, Yoongi cried using what little strength he had left to try and break free.
Viper sadistically smiled seeing this all unfold., “Do it. Make sure Yoongi see it happen. It’ll be the first step in his punishment.”
You looked at Yoongi. His eyes were bloodshot and he was out of breath. A bruise on his cheek already forming. You mustered whatever you could manage to give him a small smile before closing your eyes. You could hear Yoongi’s pleas and cries. You wondered if you’d feel pain. You wondered if it would be instant.
Everything went silent. Then you heard the familiar sound of a gunshot so you braced. But you never felt pain. You never felt the impact. You thought maybe it really had been instant.
Then you heard doors slamming open and lots of shouting.
“HPA! Put your hands in the air before someone else gets shot.”
You opened your eyes to find dozens and dozens of HPA officers swarming the warehouse. The man who had held a gun to you earlier was facedown on the ground next to you, blood pooling around him.
Three HPA officers slowly walked towards Viper with guns drawn while a forth placed him in cuffs. The rest of Vipers men were quickly placed in cuffs too.
As soon as an officer grabbed the other guy who was holding on to you, you immediately ran to Yoongi engulfing him in a hug and sobbing into his chest.
“This isn’t over. You will pay for all of this. All of you.”, Viper spat at you as he was being dragged away.
“Are you okay? We need to get you to a hospital.”, you turned to Yoongi checking him over.
“No no I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.”, he said squeezing you a little tighter.
“We have a medic outside. They can check you both over.”, a familiar voice stated next to you.”
“Oh my god Namjoon! Are you okay?”, you exclaimed running into his arms.
“Yeah yeah. I’m fine.”, he smiled. “Just some good special fx makeup and terrible acting. Let’s go outside.”
Once in the fresh air you saw a face you never wanted to see again standing next to the ambulance. He gave you a nervous smile.
“What the fuck Jeon Jungkook?”, you shouted as he walked closer.
“Y/N, let me expla-“
He couldn’t finish the statement before your hand connected with his cheek.
“No Fuck you Jungkook. You held a gun to my head. You threatened me. You work for Viper and now you just want to stand here like nothing happened. Why aren’t you in handcuffs?”
Namjoon came in between you two, “Everyone just calm down. We have a command center set up next door. Let go over there, get some water, and cool down a little.”
You were in disbelief that Namjoon was taking his side. You looked at Yoongi for guidance and he nodded his head before reaching for your hand to follow after the two men.
Once in the command center and with a cold bottle of water in your hands you glared and Jungkook still not trusting him.
“How are you feeling Y/N? Can I get you something to eat?”, he spoke.
“Cut the bullshit Jungkook. What’s going on?”, you spat back at him.
“Firstly I want to apologize. That night at your place was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
You scoffed, “I didn’t ask for an apology. I want an explanation about why it happened to begin with.”
He took a deep breath before beginning, “The agency has really been putting a lot of effort into catching Viper. One of the ideas was to have someone infiltrate his group. Since I did mostly office work and was unknown amongst his men it was decided that it would be me. So about a year ago I started working on that. I pretended to quit the agency. The only people that knew about the whole plan at the time were Namjoon and the head of the HPA.”
“Wait, but you have the snake tattoo. Didn’t you have to kill a hybrid to get that?”
Namjoon stepped in, “It was all a setup. A retired officer who happened to be a hybrid somehow found out about everything. He was also in the final stages of cancer and volunteered his body. He wanted to make sure Viper was taken down for the safety of all hybrids.”
You shook your head in disbelief.
Jungkook cleared his throat and continued, “Viper got word that Namjoon had taken Yoongi to one of his friends. For some reason I had a feeling it was you. So I came over that first night to see if Yoongi was there and of course I verified he was. Two of Vipers guys were with me or I would’ve warned you that night.”
You could feel Yoongi’s tail swinging agitatedly next to you. A low growl rumbled in his chest, “So you purposely brought Vipers men to her house? They could’ve killed her!”
Jungkook scoffed, “I would’ve never let them hurt her. I had to keep the act up or they would’ve got suspicious about why I was there.”
The growl from Yoongi got a little louder so you rested your hand on his thigh to try and sooth him not wanting a repeat of that first meeting. Slowly you could feel him settle down even though his tail said otherwise.
Jungkook continued, “When I came back the second time I was planning on getting you both to a hideout for a while, but then Yoongi wasn’t there. I thought I was alone when I arrived, but once I got inside I realized that I had been followed so I had to act like I was there to get Yoongi.”
“Soooo you threatened to kill me to save your own ass?”, you questioned.
“No no no I was never going to hurt you. The gun wasn’t even loaded. I swear. I just needed to make it believable so that none of us would get hurt.”
“So then how did we end up here? How did you know where Yoongi and I would be?”
Jungkook continued, “Well that first time I was at your house and I punched Yoongi, sorry about that by the way.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes not wanting to accept the apology.
Jungkook continued, “I might have stuck a small tracker in your purse while you were distracted by taking care of Yoongi.”
After noticing your anger rising Namjoon took over, “When we saw that you went to Jin’s shelter we knew that you had found Yoongi. Jin confirmed you had adopted him. Then we tracked you to Taehyung’s address. We got his contact info and then told him everything that was going on. He agreed to play along and help us out by getting you guys to come here. Then we had Jungkook call Viper and tell him we had a tracker with Yoongi so that he’d come here too.”
“Wow unbelievable. Everyone in my life is a lier apparently.”, you shook your head.
“Y/N, I’m sorry we lied. We had to do what we needed to do so we could catch Viper. But I promise you were never in any real danger. We constantly had surveillance on you and if anything had ever happened we would’ve had officers there immediately.”, Namjoon said.
“I hope you can forgive me. I’m really sorry this had to happen this way.”, Jungkook spoke standing up ready to leave.
“I-I don’t know. Thank you for catching him, but I thing I need some time.”
He nodded in understanding and followed another officer out of the room.
Speechless you sat back taking in his words.
“So what happens now?”, Yoongi asked next to you.
“Well we have enough evidence to hopefully put Viper away for the rest of his life and we’ll continue to take down any of his operations that are still standing.”, Namjoon responded.
“Okay and what about me?”, Yoongi asked.
“Oh well you have a few options. We can take you directly to a shelter now that it’ll be safer. Or since you are technically considered a rescued hybrid you do qualify for fostering for a while to help you reacclamate back into society.”
Yoongi was silent but you could see him nod his head out of the corner of your eye. His ears twitched in your direction searching for any kind of sound from you.
The realization hit you. Unfortunately the way the laws were setup a hybrid could only live longterm with their legal owner and since you were not his owner that it meant he could no longer stay with you. Your whole life you had been vehemently against hybrid ownership, but the thought of never seeing Yoongi again made your chest ache.
“Ooorrrr if there’s someone who happened to already want to adopt you then we can work that out immediately.”, Namjoon spoke providing you the option to step in.
Biting your lip you nervously looked around. If you were to adopt Yoongi that would go against everything you ever believed and you’d only be helping the need to continuously adopt out hybrids. But then again you did care about Yoongi like you never thought possible.
“You promised.”, Yoongi whispered next to you, he voice slightly cracking.
Staring at the ground because you didn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes you could sense his steps walking closer to Namjoon.
“I can go to a shelter. That’s fine.”, Yoongi suddenly spoke.
Surprised, Namjoon put on his best fake smile, “Sure thing. Let’s get you over there so you can get settled in then.”
Yoongi glanced at you before following quickly after Namjoon. You felt the familiar burning sensation of tears beginning to form.
“Hey, would you like to come stay back at my place. You can go back home in the morning.”,
Taehyung asked next to you.
Nodding your head you stood up and followed him out to his truck. Once back at his place Lilly ran out greeting you both with hugs. Taehyung went to take a shower while you followed Lilly into the kitchen. She offered you some tea as you sat down across from her.
“You love him don’t you?”, she asked smiling behind her teacup.
“Who?”
“Yoongi. I saw the way you were looking at him.”, she chuckled.
“I-I don’t know. I do care about him a lot.”
“So go get him. Bring him home with you tomorrow. That’s where you both want him to be.”
You shook your head, “No I don’t believe in hybrid ownership. It’s immoral and wrong.”
“Look Y/N, If you don’t adopt him then someone else surely will. You’re not doing him any favors. But I know how you feel. I used to have that same way of thinking. Then I met Tae. I didnt want to adopt him. I mean he was my boyfriend, but then we talked about it. What would happen if someone asked to see papers? Or godforbid he ended up in the hospital and I couldn’t prove anything. They’d take him away and I’d never see him again. At the end of the day it’s just a piece of paper. Nothing has to change between you and Yoongi.”
“I just…I don’t know. Of course I want Yoongi to live with me. I don’t want him to think of me as his owner though. I’m pretty sure I’ve got some feelings for him but what if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“Have you sat down and talked to him about it?”
You shook your head.
“Well that’s where you start. Then you make a decision from there. He seems like a smart guy. I bet he already knows what he wants.”
You took another sip of your tea before looking over at Lilly who was softly twisting her wedding raging.
“Did you ever worry about starting a relationship with Taehyung? Like how people would react?”
She laughed, “Oh yes of course! We both had our doubts when we first started dating. And I can still hear the whispers and see the fingers pointing whenever we go into town but we don’t care any more. We love each other and that’s all that matters. The only way to combat the discrimination is to prove to others that their hate can’t ruin you.”
Her words replayed in your head as you tossed and turned in bed trying to get some sleep. You wondered what Yoongi was up to. Was he sleeping well? Did they give him a nice meal? Had he thought about you at all?
After very little sleep you heard Taehyung and Lilly working in the kitchen. Quickly you packed what few belongings you had and headed downstairs. They greeted you with smiles and offered some breakfast. After you ate you thanked them for everything they had done for you and promised to keep in touch.
Taehyung helped you load your stuff into your car before walking back over to the drivers side where you were waiting.
“Alright you’re all packed up. Let me know when you get home safely.”
For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to get in the car.
“Did you need anything else Y/N? I can get you some gas if you needed it.”
You shook your head before taking a deep breath., “So, umm… do you know where they took Yoongi last night?”
He flashed you the biggest boxy smiled you’d ever seen, “I was starting to get worried you’d never ask.”
After he punched in the address into your gps you began the drive there, quickly realizing you were on your way to Jins. Of course.
You sat in the parking lot for quite some time trying to work up the courage to go inside. You weighed the pros and cons of every possible scenario. As you sat there you saw Jimin, the Russian blue hybrid, happily running along with the young family who you were assuming had just adopted him. He smiled with pride as the families little girl clung onto him as they all loaded into their vehicle. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. That was the final push you needed to walk inside the shelter greeted by Jin immediately.
“Y/N I was wondering when you’d show up. I bet Namjoon $20 you’d be here before noon so looks like he’ll have to pay up next time I see him.”
You rolled your eyes, “So I’m guessing you know why I’m here then?”
“Yep, already have the paperwork filled out. Just need a few signatures.”, he said placing the forms in front of you.
“Can I see him first? I want to make sure he’s okay with all of this.”
Jin sighed but of course he brought you back down the hall to the same room he was in last time.
“Yoongi you have a visitor.”, Jin said punching in the lock code.
“I told you I don’t want to see anyone.”, he responded. The hoarseness in his voice broke your heart. He had clearly been crying for quite a while.
“Come on now. You can’t sit in the corner and sulk all day.”
“Jin please just leave me alone. I told you I don’t want to be adopted by anyone but Y/N.”
That little confirmation gave you the confidence you needed to step forward, “Well then let’s go sign some paperwork so we can go home.”
Yoongi spun around so fast he got disoriented tripping over his own feet. You giggled as you tried to help him back up.
“Y/N you really came back for me?”
“Of course I did. I promised didn’t I?”
“I thought you were against adoptions so I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”, he whispered.
You noticed he was wearing your hoodie. A small detail that made you smile.
“I think I can make an exception. As long as that’s what you want of course. And we agree to be equals.”
He didn’t even have to answer. When he walked over and wrapped his arms around you placing a soft kiss to your cheek, that was all the confirmation you needed.
#bts#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#min yoongi#yoongi angst#bts fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi x y/n#bts x reader#namjoon#jungkook#taehyung#yoongi au#yoongi fluff#bts hybrid au#yoongi#bts angst#jimin#hoseok#jin
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Incomprehensible Horror. // Demon!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Halloween Special 🎃
MDNI, DD:DNE(?): reader discretion is advised.
block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to prevent seeing dark content from me.
WARNINGS: dubcon, cunnilingus, demon fucking(?), p in v sex, past life, mentions of abuse, plotting, murder, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), size kink, cum eating, slight breeding kink, spooky vibes(?), manhandling, so much canon divergence, GoT S8 spoilers(?) kinda idk, the plot is shifted and extremely altered to fit this story. + not proofread
WC: 3.8k
A/N: the original draft got deleted and i had to rewrite it because I wanted to publish this before Halloween is over, so this is slightly rushed :(
There was something extremely eerie about the red keep that always set you on the edge whenever you would hear stories about it.
The burnt down remnants of it untouched as the city around it prospered, only developing more as the time passed on, with skyscrapers, branded shops, turning into what you would call a 'modern city'.
King's Landing was not the way it was anymore, the destruction of it provided a reason to rebuild the city entirely, it was a lengthy process but definitely worth it.
A seemingly innocent city until you look past the sky scrapers, shops, etc, revealing a sinister and a tragic history of the land, a story that involves a royal family fighting and going mad for the throne, only to succumb to their madness and go extinct.
There have been many attempts in the past to rebuild it, but all in vain as there have been cases of construction accidents, fatal injuries, suicides, making it impossible to rebuild it, so they turned it into a tourist attraction.
What a way to make money.
Yet they close it off the moment the sun begins to set.
You had visited it a lot, having been living in King's Landing for a while, it was basically harmless, making you wonder why it was rumoured to be haunted, when it's just a disfigured building with half of its structure on the ground.
It was a casual weekday for you, returning to your apartment from work after the sun had long set, you took the elevator up the building, the music abruptly coming to a stop way before you reached your floor, leaving you confused, but you soon broke out of your confusion when you heard the familiar 'ding' indicating that you reached your floor, and as soon as you left the elevator the automatic doors slammed quickly, causing a loud sound, startling you.
It seemed as if the elevator was having technical difficulties.
You make a mental note to take the elevator less often until it is fixed.
You quickly scurry to the side of your apartment, pulling the keys out and pushing it into the lockhole, turning it, which opens the door, but you stumble over something and lose your balance, holding the wall for support to not fall until you finally push yourself back onto your feet and look down.
It was a package.
But you had not ordered anything.
Weirdly enough, there was no address.
You should've left it there.
But you took it inside.
Your curiosity got the best of you, and the package not having any address only further fuelled your justification for opening it.
It was a book.
An occult type of book to be exact.
You opened it and skimmed through the pages, it seemed more like a personal diary than an instruction based book for spells.
And it was convincing enough at first until you read a certain page.
“Go to the ruins of the red keep at 3AM, and chant this, 'Oh rōvēgrie zaldrīzes dārilaros, māzigon naejot se iōragon gō nyke, ivestragī aōha kasta se melkasta laesi jurnegon rȳ nyke, iksan isse jorrāelagon hen aōha dohaeragon, kesan krenyikhé tepagon mirros ao jaelagon' for a miracle!” (Oh great dragon prince, come forward and stand before me, let your blue and purple eyes look at me, I am in need of your help, I will gladly give anything you wish.)
This made you chuckle, what kind of prank was this? This was so badly written to the point of making any paranoia you felt about this book dissipate immediately.
I mean, chanting spells? to summon a dead prince? it made you laugh, and of course the location was the red keep, a place rumoured to be haunted. It couldn't not be more obvious than that, because whatever this was, was clearly a joke.
So you pushed the book aside and settled for bed.
Sleep did not come to you.
Which you found odd.
You would usually be extremely tired, and the moment you lay on the bed, you would be pulled under the depth of slumber.
Yet now you squirmed, not being able to find any sleep.
You don't know how many hours passed, making you frustrated.
And your mind wandered off to what you had read earlier.
You glanced at the time, it read 2AM.
You purse your lips in thought, not knowing what to do.
You got up from your bed.
You knew this was a bad idea, sneaking into the red keep, with the stupid book in your hand as you navigated through the building, and then you ended up in a room with a bunch of paintings of the past targaryens.
You set the book down and kneeled, looking at the verse you were supposed to chant out loud, you bought out your phone and looked at the time, it read 2:59AM.
One more minute.
You did not know why you were doing this, normally, you were a rational person, you usually don't let your curiosity win in situations like this, having control over it, but in this case, it seems you had lost all your control, and it seemed as your mind is being controlled to do whatever was written on that page.
Besides, it's not like anything would happen.
It seemed fake after all.
Trying doesn't hurt.
You never really believed in ghosts or demons yourself, so what were you scared of?
And so as soon as the time read 3AM, you chanted the saying out loud.
You waited.
And waited.
You looked at the time, 3:10AM.
Nothing happened.
You let out a scoff, what did you expect? A demon to appear?
You collected the book and left the scene, annoyed that nothing happened, but you were also glad nothing happened at the same time.
The air felt colder than before, and lights seemed to flicker constantly whenever you crossed a street light, everything seemed out of place and odd, the buildings looked distorted.
Was your paranoid finally getting to you?
You felt a chill run up your spine.
It felt as if someone whispered in your ear, causing you to jump and look back, only to find nothing.
This was setting you on edge, you quickly walked faster back to your apartment, you frowned when you saw the "out of order" sign on the elevator, knowing that it was not there when you used it to come down prior to your visit to the red keep.
You sighed heavily and took the stairs, climbing to the floor you lived in, but for an odd reason, the stairs seemed to go on for longer, the more you climbed, the more they went on, you did not know if you were seeing things for feeling that way simply cause you were spooked, but you know for a fact that climbing 7 floors should not take more than 10 minutes at a slow pace, and yet here you were still climbing at a fast pace yet the stairs seemed to be never ending, you did not know if you were hallucinating the scribbled out floor numbers assigned to the respective floors or if they were originally like that before.
You looked down the stairwell, and it only seemed as if you climbed 3 floors, which left you baffled. You ran up as fast as you could, and to your relief you saw the '7th floor' on the board, indicating you were on your floor. You sighed in relief, making your way to your apartment, you did your best to ignore the constant flicker of lights, and what seemed like a dark figure standing from the corner of your eyes, the keys fumbled in your hands, it took you a few tries to unlock the door and when you did, you saw the figure move towards you, so you quickly rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind you.
You leaned against the door breathing heavily, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, to try and calm your mind. You cannot tell if this was just your mind playing tricks because you're so worked up, or something odd is actually happening, but you know for the fact that whatever you were seeing was real.
Your apartment suddenly starts smelling putrid, making you scrunch up your nose. The smell was unbearable, as if thousands of dead rats were in your apartment, decaying away. It made you want to throw up, the foul scent leaving you light headed as you went towards your bedroom, to access the attached bathroom.
Luckily for you, the bedroom smelled like it usually would instead of dead rats, so you took a deep breath of the normal air, the nausea beginning to slowly fade away.
“For what have you summoned me, mortal?” a deep voice says, making you freeze in your spot, you turn around and your eyes widen in horror, as you take in the sight in front of you.
The face of a goat with horns, and scales that belonged to a dragon running down its upper body, stopping at it's elbows, black fluid dripping from its body, covering it's most intimate area, and its legs covered in scales as well, your voice was stuck in your throat, not being able to scream as the sheer panic made it unable to.
It looks confused at your horror filled face before looking down to its body and sighing annoyedly, and then its body distorts, the sound of bones cracking, flesh turning and squeezing, you watch the entire thing happen, the way its body is changing shape until it stops, making your breath hitch in your throat.
It took the form of a human man, face now mimicking a normal human, yet it was also disfigured, with a scar running up his cheek to his eyebrow, and an eye patch on his left eye, before he took it off, revealing the sapphire placed in the eye socket. His gaze was piercing, staring daggers at you, as he grew visibly frustrated at your silence.
“Can't you speak?” his voice booms across the room, causing you to snap out of your fear, and finally answer him, “I-it was an accident, I didn't mean to.” you answer and that displeases him, face now carrying the expression of a scowl.
“You followed as the book had instructed, did you not?” he asks and you nod, “Then it is no accident.”
“I did not think it would actually work, it was my mistake, please its an accident-” your voice cracks, still trying to process what was happening, trying to form words that made sense. He pushed you against the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat, long sharp nails digging into the skin of your neck, restricting the passage of air as you struggled in his grip, “On accident you say? Then you must pay the price for wasting my time.” he said darkly, and released you, causing you to fall to the ground, coughing and taking lungfuls of air.
“Should I kill you and then take your soul? Or take your soul directly and watch as the light fades from your eyes, screaming and writhing in agony in my hold.” he ponders genuinely and you gulp in fear, tears welling up in your eyes, knowing that something stupid is now costing you your life. “Please forgive me- I did not mean for any of this to happen.” you beg, voice hoarse.
“Forgive you? You should not have stifled me to begin with, now you must pay the price for your own stupidity, what shall I do hmm? My time is incredibly precious after all.” he looks down at you and you quiver in fear.
He grabs your hair and pulls you to your feet, making you stand, his hot breath fans against your face as you look up at him, and then he scans your face, taking in your features and then his eye widens as if he realised something.
And then he smiles, the grip in your hair becoming even tighter, causing you to wince in pain, “Please- let go of me- I'm sorry.” you grip his hand, trying to make him let go of the hold he has on you, “Aemond- please.” and that's when he releases you.
“Ah, so you do remember me.” he says, amused and you look at him confused, “Huh? What do you mean?” you ask him genuinely and that's when you realised you called him Aemond, it came out so naturally to the point you did not notice it.
But you still had no idea what just occurred.
Who's Aemond?
He grabs your cheeks, “I had waited so many years.”
What is he talking about?
“I won't lose you this time.” he says and before you can respond, he presses his lips against yours, one hand wrapped around your waist as the other holds the back of your head, pressing your face against him.
Your head felt hazy all of a sudden.
Why does all of this feel familiar?
You don't protest when he pushes you on the bed, climbing on top of you, you just stare at him, blinking in confusion as he tears away at your clothing, “Oh how the fashion has changed overtime, I remember last time you were wearing a black gown, mourning the death of your husband.” he whispers in your year and you feel ringing in your ear.
“What an amazing actress you were, mourning him in such a convincing way, only to get fucked by me after the funeral.” his hands trail down your body, “Such good memories, to have you underneath me, moaning my name constantly like a prayer, you were the first woman I ever desired after my death, the one who broke my curse, letting me become a true demon, it was on accident too back then.” he chuckles, he grips your pants, tearing the fabric as if it were paper.
“Until they found out of course, that you conspired with a demon, and planned the murder of your own husband.” his voice turns dark, and the ringing in your ear gets louder, your mind spins. “I remember not being able to do anything as they burned you alive at the sept, sigils placed around you to prevent me from interfering, to watch your flesh on fire as you screamed in agony, screamed my name in pain and it was then I swore that I would destroy that city.” he growled darkly.
“And so I did, possessing my own descendant and burning the city down, not too long after your passing.” he recalls with a satisfied smirk on his face, “Do you still remember my full name?” he looks at you and the ringing suddenly stops, and everything seemed to be spinning around you, his face becomes blurry and your head begins to hurt, eyes beginning to water as you feel that you were set on fire, letting out a loud scream at the sheer amount of pain coursing through your body as memories you didn't recognize flowed through your mind, you writhing below him in pain, letting out loud cries, “Shh..” he caresses your head and suddenly the pain stops, making you breath heavily, making you close your eyes.
“Aemond Targaryen.” you hear your own voice speak and you open your eyes to look at him, he has a smirk on his face, a small smile grazes your face as well, lifting your hand up to caress his cheek, pulling his face towards you to kiss you, lips engulfing his, you breathe in his scent, and he suddenly doesn't smell putrid anymore, but instead of cloves and ash.
“Fucking cunts, all of them, they remained silent all throughout the time i was abused by him, but the moment I get my own revenge, they burnt me alive.” you say after pulling away from the kiss, gritting your teeth.
You felt so confused with yourself.
Both memories of your past life and current life clashing against each other, fighting for dominance, to decide who you were.
“It's over my love, I burnt them all down.” he kisses down your neck, to your breasts, and down to your cunt, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. You smile at him, spreading your legs wide for him to settle freely and latch his lips onto your clit, making you throw your head back when you feel his tongue move skillfully against the bundle of nerves, you grip his hair, shoving his face further into your cunt.
“Fuck- you taste the same as I remember, I missed this cunt so much, seven hells.” he curses, licking away at your cunt, you moan as his sharp teeth grazes your clit. “Watch your teeth-” you whimper, feeling his fingers prod at your entrance, before gently pushing them in. He pulls away from your cunt and watches his own fingers be engulfed by your cunt as he thrusts them in and out, he groans at the sight, wishing it was his cock plunging inside you. “Goodness gracious, you're so fucking divine.” he murmers before latching on your cunt again, tongue swirling against your bud.
You feel the band in your stomach, “Aemond, I'm cumming- I'm- fuck-!” you reach your peaking on his hands, back arched as the orgasm ripples through your body. You breath heavily and watch aemond climb up, his knees on the mattress of your bed as he bends your legs, your knees pressing to your chest.
You watch as he grabs his cock, your eyes widening at the sheer size of it before flitting over to his own, he smirks, “Aemond it won't fit-” you whine but he shushes you, “You took it with no problem before, tis the same.” he lines in up against your entrance, “But still-”
“Remember when we did it the first time, you said it wouldn't fit? Only to have you crying and cumming all over my cock like a common whore.” he says and you sigh, remembering the memory.
He slowly pushes his cock inside you, taking his own time, throwing his head back in pleasure, “Seven hells, you feel so fucking good, the gods be damned.” he grunts, feeling pleasure at the way your cunt is wrapped around him so perfectly. You grip the sheets below you for support, clenching your eyes shut as you try to adjust to him.
He grabs a hold of your legs, throwing them over his shoulder before he grabs your hips and starts thrusting in and out of you, making your body jolt up and down the bed at the force. Your moans of his name soon fill the room, and he moans too, closing his eye in pleasure as he continuously shoves his cock in and out of you.
He opens his eye to look down, only to smirk when he sees the outline of his cock in your lower abdomen whenever he thrusts fully inside, he presses a hand against it and you squirm, the pleasure amplifying, making your toes curl.
He leans down, causing your legs to fall off his shoulder and be pushed up against your chest one more, his long black tongue enters inside your mouth, extending far back into your throat making you gag before he pulls it back, finally letting both your lips meet. Your hands shoot up to his hair pushing him against you, he hums in satisfaction. His scales are back on his body, along with his horns, partly turning into his demonic form, you feel him grow in size, both height and mass, and eventually down there, which rips an orgasm from you, wetness flowing down your hole and dirtying the sheets and you choke on your own spit at the sudden peak.
He pulls out, and you look at him in confusion, knowing he didn't peak yet, but soon the confusion is replaced with anticipation as he flips you around onto your stomach, your body knows what to do immediately and you support yourself on your arms and knees. Aemond doesn't waste another moment before pushing himself inside you, letting out a loud moan when he feels you clench around him.
His pace is brutal and fast, only seeming to care about his own pleasure, he grabs you by your hair and tugs on it, causing you to curve your head backward but not lean back, he's fucking you like an animal in heat, the size difference making it easy to manhandle you as he wishes.
He soon feels his peak arriving after pounding into you like a madman, and he spills himself deep inside you, cumming so much to the point it makes you feel bloated and so full, you whine when you feel his pull out. He watches as his seed leaks out of you, gathering it with his index finger and tasting it, humming at it.
“I wish my seed takes.” he mutters.
He turns you on your back again, and holds your legs wide and spread apart, and spits on your cunt, before leaning down, holding your thighs apart and once again presses his warm mouth against your cunt, only this time he shoves his long tongue down your hole, you can feel him licking around there, eating up his own spend, and that's when he flicks his tongue upwards inside you, grazing your gspot and your thighs shut around his head, trying to prevent him from making you cum again, too overstimulated and tired.
“Aemond- another time, please- I'm so tired.” you whine, your eyes closing, and he listens to you, pulling away, withdrawing his tongue from inside of you. He climbs next to you in bed, shifting into his full human form again and pulling you close.
“I won't let anyone take you away from me now.” he murmurs in your ear and you nod, turning and snuggling close to him.
There were so many questions left unanswered.
Each and everything was an odd occurrence.
From the encounter of the package to you summoning a demon, who turned out to be the one you loved & fucked in your past life, even conspiring with him to kill your abusive husband, and to fucking him again, and now laying safely wrapped in his arms.
Who was the one that sent you the package then?
Just then you remember an odd event.
You remembered the text and pictures of the book with a bunch of spells and summoning rituals, you hadn't noticed it then but it was the same handwriting as yours.
It was your diary.
And you remember losing it the day right before you were burnt to death.
And you remember writing the words you had heard in your dream, confused back then as what "3AM" meant.
You did not want to dwell on this anymore.
Because you realised that it would drive into madness.
And so, you drifted off into slumber in the arms of your beloved.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader smut#aemond x reader smut#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x y/n#x reader smut#x reader#reader insert#house of the dragon smut#hotd x reader#hotd smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond x you#MAE:DARK!CONTENT#tw: dubcon#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader
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Knife’s Edge || Abby Anderson
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: when reader gets lost inside a haunted house, ghostface!Abby takes her to the backroom
Notes: part one in my week of horror series! minors dni; brief dubcon, knife play, throat holding, fingering, dom!Abby wearing a strap under her costume, sex against a wall, afab reader
Scary stories and sleazy horror films had never been something you enjoyed, so you’re not sure why you’d agreed to tag along when your friends invited you to a haunted house hosted in a bleak, abandoned building sitting at the edge of town.
As soon as you walked through the doors, you knew you’d made a mistake. Gory backdrops, clown-faced actors, fake bodies hanging out of coffins – you found a reason to shield your face lurking around every corner. Your friends had shrieked with laughter and pulled you along with them, but you couldn’t keep up with their excited pace, dragging your feet and lagging far behind the group.
Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time with your hands covering your eyes, you would’ve known you were headed down the wrong hallway, straying further away from your friends with each blind step. When you look up to find yourself stranded in the empty darkness, you chastise yourself for coming to a haunted house in the first place.
Tonight would’ve been better if you’d just stayed home.
When you realize that the noise and the commotion of the tour have all but faded into the distance, your heart leaps into your throat. There’s something about the silence that doesn’t seem right.
A rising panic overwhelms your senses as you look around for anything that might tell you where you are. Your friends are all gone, and so are the actors and the gruesome scenes that had been guiding you through the halls. Is it worse to be scared or to be hanging in suspense?
The sudden shuffle of footsteps floods your lungs with relief. You speed up to follow after the sound, only briefly stopping to consider how humiliating it is to be this frightened by a rundown building full of cheap decor.
“Excuse me! Hey-”
You grab the person’s shoulder with a trembling hand, no longer concerned with keeping your dignity intact. They can laugh at you all they want as long as they can lead you to the exit.
When the stranger turns around, you let out a small noise of surprise. She’s tall and brawny under her costume, and the tips of her boots peak out from the bottom of the black sheet of fabric she’s cloaked in.
The mask covering her face is shaped into a ghoulish, twisted scream, just like the one from those cheesy slasher movies you’d never managed to sit through. Even the prop knife she wields at her side is unnervingly sinister.
You pull your hand back and turn your attention to the mesh covering her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of the person underneath.
“Do you work here?”
She cocks her head to the side, silent.
“Look,” you sputter. “I just got separated from my friends, can you help me or not?”
A group of muffled voices erupt from somewhere in the house, a mess of laughter and gasps and thrilled shrieks of artificial terror. You feel her eyes raking over you before she bobs her head and motions for you to follow.
“Come with me.”
The walk through the hallway is quiet beyond the eerie music playing on a loop and the sound of her steps over the creaking floorboards. Cardboard cutouts and tarped sheets of plastic block out the light from the windows and you’d struggle to follow her trail if it weren’t for the occasional flash of her white mask looking at you over her shoulder.
She leads you through a maze of intersecting hallways before finally stopping in front of a door marked with gaudy caution tape and a formal ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign tacked in the middle. She guides you inside with a hand flattened against your lower back and a warmth licks up your spine from her easy touch.
She follows in behind you and shuts the door, and you’re suddenly aware that she’d taken you beyond the part of the house marked off for guests.
Overloaded boxes and bins of leftover decorations are scattered around the room, a collection of undead odds and ends stuffed into every corner. It’s too crowded and too uncanny for your liking.
You turn to look at the quiet stranger with wide eyes, heart hammering in your chest.
“Why are we here?”
She’s silent for a moment before she grabs you by the waist and wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into the crook of your neck.
“Are you scared?”
You shudder as her cold plastic mask connects with your skin. Standing this close, you can hear her heavy breath contorted by her disguise, feel the rise and fall of her chest pressed against your back.
The kitchen knife gleams against your hip where her hand gropes for purchase. In the darkened hallway, it’d seemed like a cheap, flimsy prop to match her crude costume, but in here, there’s just enough light to catch the metallic luster of the blade’s sharp edge.
She seems to follow the trail of your downcast gaze because she runs the flat side of her knife up the length of your torso with an amused hum.
“Don’t worry,” she taunts in an overly cloying voice. “You won’t feel a thing.”
Her grip is loose enough that you could break free if you wanted, but you’re too flustered by the heat pooling in your belly to try. You wriggle in her grasp and unintentionally move your hips into hers, gasping when the tip of the blade digs into your side.
“Ah- careful with that thing.”
She laughs dryly and drags the steel up to rest in the valley of your breasts. “I think you like a little pain.”
Without a warning, she spins you around so that you’re sandwiched between her form and the wall, cheek pressed roughly against the cracked, yellowing paint.
“You feel that?” She grinds against the curve of your backside, revealing the hard plastic bulge underneath her costume. “S’my cock, baby. You gonna take it like a good girl?”
You whimper at the harsh treatment and the thought of what’s to come. When you take too long to work up a reply, she wraps a hand around your throat, delicate but forceful enough that you’re aware of her underlying strength.
“I asked you a question.”
Honeyed slick coats the apex of your thighs as you squirm in place, practically thrumming with adrenaline and a feeling you can’t name. You’ve always hated scary movies, but living through one is turning out to be much more of a thrill.
“Yes,” you pant with a shaky nod. “Please, yes. Just fuck me.”
Her knife clatters to the floor beside your feet and you flinch at the shrill noise. The hand around your throat is gone, disappearing somewhere behind you as she bunches the fabric of her costume around her waist.
You chance a look over your shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of her form without the curtain of fabric blocking the view, and you’re met with the sight of her harness digging into her hips, leading below the waistband of her black cotton boxers.
A sliver of bare skin is visible between the dregs of her cloak and the hem of her underwear, accentuating the smattering of blonde hair trailing down from her naval. The muscles of her thighs flex as she pulls the length of her strap from its confines.
She reaches around to unbutton your jeans and tug the material down your legs, careless of the way your hips jerk from the force of her strength. When her fingers prod at your entrance and she slides her fake cock between your thighs, your palms flatten against the wall to keep yourself from crumpling over in bliss.
“S’that feel good?” Her thumb swipes at your clit in fast, messy circles while two thick digits part your velvety walls.
Little sighs and puffs of air are all you can manage as a response. Her fingers curl at the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot, and you think you could manage to come like this if she kept at it for even a minute longer.
To your disappointment, she frees her fingers before you can reach your peak, and you push back against her with a whine of protest.
She doesn’t seem to appreciate your breathy complaint, because she shoves your hips back against the wall with a bitter force that makes you gasp at the impact.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Her masked face peaks over your shoulder, creeping into your peripheral with an unblinking, static gaze.
You feel the tip of her cock nudge against your weeping entrance, sleek plastic rubbing against your skin just like the pale visage resting against your cheek. She drives her cock into you in one fluid motion, grunting as her hips slam into yours.
“Fuck-” you choke out a breathless, eager sound as she gives an experimental thrust against your backside.
Her broad figure envelops you completely as she grinds her cock into your slick cunt, agonizingly slow until she decides you’re ready for more. She’s everywhere all at once – a blur of heavy-handed touches over your hips and your chest. You can’t decide whether you’d like to push your breasts into the cradle of her palms or to contort yourself into the hollow of her frame in search of more pleasure.
“mmh- please, faster,” you beg, brows pinched together with the effort of keeping still like she’d asked.
“Yeah?” She picks up a bit of speed and returns her fingers to your clit. “Too cock drunk to be scared anymore?”
You nod along with what she’s saying, too focused on the tension twisting in your gut to pay attention to her words. You’d agree to anything as long as she kept moving.
A minute passes and you’re teetering at the edge of your release. She seems to notice, adding pressure to your clit and grinding her cock into you as far as it’ll go.
“That’s it,” she pants. “Come for me.”
The tension inside of you snaps and you shudder through your release with a choked sob and a silent thanks to the stranger holding you up. Your walls cling to her slick length as you come around her cock, heaving a shaky breath into the quiet, cramped room.
After a few more greedy thrusts and swipes over your sensitive clit, she stills inside of you and presses her mouth to your shoulder, almost like she’s kissing you through the plastic mold covering her face.
With a content flush crawling up your cheeks, you turn to look at her in the dim lighting. “You could’ve taken the mask off, y’know.”
She laughs wryly and shakes her head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
#sweetercalypso’s week of horror#the last of us#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x y/n#abby x reader#ghostface!Abby Anderson#ghostface!au#the last of us x reader#abby the last of us#tlou#abby anderson drabble#tlou x reader#the last of us smut#kinktober#halloween smut#ghostface#dom!abby
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SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)
summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.
warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.
pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader
authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)
❗️: you can find part one here and part three here if you need it :3
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The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.
When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.
You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.
They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.
Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.
Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.
Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.
You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.
"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.
"But I want to be," he told you honestly.
"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."
"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."
"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.
"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."
"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."
"Says who?"
"Says Mindy."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."
It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.
"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.
He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"
"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."
Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."
That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.
You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.
On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.
You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.
They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.
The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.
First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.
Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.
You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.
It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.
You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.
They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.
You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.
Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.
You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"
"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.
"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.
"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."
"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.
"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"
"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."
"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."
"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.
"You let them attack me!"
"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."
"They?" you repeated in confusion.
He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."
You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.
"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."
"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.
"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."
You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"
"If it meant that you'd be safe."
His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.
"Ethan…" you whispered his name.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"
You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.
It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.
You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.
He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.
You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.
You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"
"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"
"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"
There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."
You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"
"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"
"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"
"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."
You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.
Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.
You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.
"Sam," you blurted quietly.
"What, Y/N?"
You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.
But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.
"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.
"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"
"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."
You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."
"Ethan?" she questioned.
"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.
"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."
"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."
"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."
You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.
"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.
You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."
He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."
"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"
"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.
"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."
"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."
You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."
Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.
#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry x you#ethan landry imagine#jack champion#scream imagine#scream vi imagine#ethan landry x y/n
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Welcome to Your Life
Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader
Word Count: ~3.75k
Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World
Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Divider by @saradika
We're All Monsters
Masterlist
A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵
This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.
Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.
As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!
You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.
You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.
Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.
“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.
“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.
“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”
“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.
He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.
One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.
The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.
He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”
Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”
He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.
“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.
The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”
She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”
He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”
You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.
“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.
Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.
The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.
You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.
These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?
There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.
You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.
Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.
.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.
More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.
You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.
Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”
You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.
“Shit,” he breathed.
“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”
“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”
You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”
“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.
Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”
“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.
He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”
You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.
Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”
You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???
But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.
It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”
“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”
“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.
“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.
Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.
It was the most luxurious shower of your life.
When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.
Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–
“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”
You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”
He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”
You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”
His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.
“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”
The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”
You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”
And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.
“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”
He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.
“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.
“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”
“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”
With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.
He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.
His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.
“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.
Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.
You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”
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wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento
summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.
wc: 1k
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au"
→ masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.
“Oh, no. Not again.”
Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.
You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.
Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.
Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.
***
Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.
As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.
“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.”
He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.
“Has something happened?”
“So, you know how my technique works, right?”
That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.
“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”
You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.”
That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.
“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.
“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.”
Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.
He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.
Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.
“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”
He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.
“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”
Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.
“Nanami?”
He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.
“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?”
That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.
You nearly gagged.
“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”
Somebody please fucking kill me.
“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,” you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”
You were met at the wake of your failed joke.
“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.”
Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.
“Fine. Send me your location.”
You sighed, relieved.
“Great, you're the best, thank you!”
He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.
“Is she alright?”
“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?”
“What? Why would you need that?”
He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.
Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.”
He then walked towards the door to leave.
“Nanami…” Shoko began.
“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.
“… Are you blushing?”
“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.
***
Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.
“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.
“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”
Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.
You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.
As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.
You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.
“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.
“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.
“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”
“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.”
He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.
“Of course. I apologize.”
“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.
You smiled, amused and thankful.
“Right. Precisely.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jjk fanfic#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu partners au#fuku writes#nanami#kento nanami#nanami kento fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu fluff#nanami kento x you#kento x reader#jjk crack#jjk funny#jjk imagines
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text message prompts
[text] You okay?
[text] GO TO BED!
[text] hey you better be alive in there
[text] SOS save me please holy shit
[text] call me this date is going so bad
[text] I have way too much shit to do.
[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.
[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?
[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).
[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.
[text] It's not going to work out.
[text] This is a terrible idea.
[text] people have fetishes
[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh
[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you
[text] That movie was awful.
[text] For the love of god please help me
[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.
[text] I'm blocking you.
[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH
[text] I regret swiping right.
[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.
[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.
[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil
[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride
-
[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up
[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain
[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.
[text] have you gotten any work done?
[text] I am beyond shame, try again
[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.
[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.
[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted
[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall
[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky
[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.
[text] Jealous of my massive honkers
[text] We left you to die to play minecraft
[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats
[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.
[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit
[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.
[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?
[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk
[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?
[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.
[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?
[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!
[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?
[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet
[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person
[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.
-
[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.
[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.
[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.
[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.
[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.
[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..
[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.
[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.
[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.
[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.
[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.
[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.
[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.
[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?
[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.
[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.
[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!
[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.
[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?
[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?
[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.
[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.
[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.
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Sated [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@hotchbabygirl) Center (@psykopaths) Right (@aiirene)
Prompt: Aaron and the reader continue to have to postpone being intimate with each other, and when the jet breaks down stopping Aaron from being with the reader one more time, he takes matters into his own hands to get what they both desperately want.
Pairing: [established relationship] Aaron x non!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: fluff/comfort/smut
Word Count: 8K
A/N: Content warning after the cut. Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content warning after the cut. I have had the idea for this fic for ages, and it’s finally here. Sorry for my lack of writing/posting. I’m trying hard to stop procrastinating at my real job, which takes away from my writing time which I love. I might consider this pwp if you squint, but let me know what you think. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your weekend and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️
Content Warnings: Sex [Hotch and reader], shared masturbation, phone/video sex, use of sex toys [reader], hand job [Hotch] mutual pining, Aaron and the reader are horny, mention of poisoning and death [brief and case related], fear-mongering about the border, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol and food. Please let me know if I missed any.
List with all stories
y/n = your name
_y/f/d_= your favorite dinner
_y/f/s/s_ = your favorite scented soap
Aaron had been itching to get back to y/n for ages now. It had been issue after issue that had kept them intimately apart for weeks. The jet breaking down had been the last straw as he moved back toward his room in the hotel for yet another night without the warm and calming presence of his partner's body and pussy close to him. This desire to be sated had been building up for some time. Hotch wasn’t always so needy, but it had been a long road here. It had started with their last date when Aaron had come over, and they’d agreed to take a long walk and look at the fancy houses two blocks from y/n’s modest apartment. The contrast in wealth was often astounding to y/n, who every now and then complained about rents being raised every year without a change to her salary. And even though she could run her mouth about that kind of thing, she said it less and less often now that she was dating Aaron. He’d helped make her apartment much more livable by fixing the leaky faucet and putting up removable wallpaper that she could take down once she inevitably moved in with him. That was a conversation still to come, but something they were both thinking of. Aaron had done a host of other things for her around her one-bedroom unit as well while she watched him dreamily. y/n adored him in a plain t-shirt or even better, one of his faded academy shirts or hoodies from his law school days that barely held together anymore. Often after he was sweaty from a project, y/n would offer him some cold water and lead him to bed, where she’d have the pleasure of peeling off his clothes. They’d make quick work of making passionate love after they had both stripped bare, sometimes going two rounds.
But as often as they could be found in the sheets or the shower, or wherever the couple might find to have sex, they were also good at reading each other’s energy levels and not pushing for intimacy if one or both of them was not feeling up to it. Aaron realized pretty quickly in his relationship with y/n that she enjoyed him just as much relaxing on his chest on the sofa while he played with her hair as she did while he was pinning her to the bed and making her moan out his name so all of her neighbors could hear them. This was perfect for both of them because it gave them quality time to relax together and get to know each other outside the confines of sex and that side of exploration of the other. Hotch was a good bit older than y/n, and he worried that he wouldn’t be able to perform for her as much as he wanted or y/n expected. But as it turned out, they fit each other perfectly both in and outside of the bedroom. There had been no sex on their last date, as they both were exhausted, but they’d talked about the future and what they hoped to achieve this year personally and in their shared life.
Then a case had pulled Aaron away from y/n and it overlapped with Valentine's Day. He’d planned a nice dinner and to wine and dine y/n before they came back for some alone time while Jack was with a sitter for the evening. That didn’t end up happening, and y/n called the restaurant to cancel. Hotch had only had the chance to get about a twenty-minute call to y/n to tell her that he loved her before he got word that another victim had been found by Emily. By the time he’d gotten home from that case which dealt with heartache and murder, Aaron was too tired to do much else but collapse into y/n’s arms when he got to her place. She helped him to the bed, out of his oxfords, and then his tie and pants. Aaron smiled up at her and said in a quiet voice, “Sweetheart, don’t bother folding that stuff. I’ll get it dry cleaned on the weekend. I just want you in my arms, baby.” y/n turned to him and ran a hand down his jawline and dropped his clothes on the floor. y/n moved to turn off the lights in the entryway, bathroom, and bedroom before dropping into bed next to Aaron who had snuggled under the covers. Hotch pulled her close to his chest and buried his face in her neck and shoulder blades. y/n opened her legs enough for Aaron to slide one of his legs between hers. The warmth of her thighs around his leg grounded him, and y/n took his hand in hers and placed it on her side while asking, “Bad case, Aaron?” Hotch mumbled into the crook of her neck and replied, “Yeah.” y/n squeezed his larger hand. She wanted to be cognizant of his triggers, of the things that might make him relive things again either from his past or prior cases, but y/n also wanted to let him know that there was always an open channel of communication between them. So, y/n inquired broadly, “Kids?” Hotch nodded again and replied in a low voice, “Um-hm. Just two kids. Cousins. That was enough.”
Aaron rarely expanded on case details. One because it would break security protocols and two, and more importantly to him, he wanted to save y/n from the horrors of what he saw on the field. Sometimes, however, he painted her a vague picture of the team's exploits on their crazier cases without giving her any details on the unsub or the victims. Not that y/n was looking for the unsub or victims. However, she cared about Aaron and wanted to make sure he was okay physically and mentally. Dating an FBI agent did make reading the newspaper on the weekends more suspenseful. y/n would read a headline and look at Hotch and he’d come around to see what it was she was looking at and reassure her that he wouldn’t be involved in that, or that she shouldn’t be concerned. y/n’s mind snapped back to Aaron as his hand left hers and wrapped around her waist. y/n didn’t mind days like these when they were snuggled close and she let Aaron physically relax by her presence. Within a few minutes and y/n saying soft words and gentle brushes of her hand, Hotch fell asleep with y/n following shortly after.
This had all been fine and both y/n and Aaron were happy, but their anniversary was coming up and Hotch had planned another night for them to make up for missing Valentine’s. This time he had planned on making dinner for them both and then he had a vision in his mind of what would come after. He flushed at the very idea of what he had in mind. y/n was so excited about what he’d told her to expect. Something about a bottle of her favorite red wine, _y/f/d_, and some dancing in the living room with his beige couch and table pushed out of the way while their playlist was in the background. Then there was the comment that had taken y/n’s breath away when he’d whispered in her ear, “And let me add, that I’m just grateful you're on birth control too. We might need it after our night is finished.” y/n had been so flustered that Aaron took the opportunity to peck her mouth and pull back, saying, “Penny for your thought sweetheart.” y/n pulled out of her reverie and smiled slyly saying, “hmm. You’ll have to pay me a whole lot more than that for me to share. But, if you’re patient, and you wait till our anniversary, I’d be more than happy to show you.” Hotch flushed and was itching for that day to come sooner. He’d make a move now, but it was his weekend with Jack, and he wanted to spend some quality time with his son. He and y/n would spend that Saturday taking Jack to the rollercade where his son and y/n always managed to lap him and he somehow always ended up on his ass. It was going to be a fun day no matter how many times he fell.
That weekend came and went and Aaron didn’t anticipate seeing y/n again until that weekend on their anniversary because both of their weeks looked busier than usual. The anticipation only made Friday night more and more enticing. Hotch limped into the office and made it almost to his door when Rossi came out of his office and noticed Aaron’s odd gait. Dave couldn’t help but joke. “You and y/n try something new this weekend?” Hotch rolled his eyes in a way he only did when Rossi ribbed him. Aaron replied, “Unfortunately not unless you could falling while roller skating counts as something new.” He paused for a second and continued, “It’s actually been a minute since we’ve done… that.” Dave raised an eyebrow and asked, “Problems?” Hotch answered, “Far from. We’re just both busy and tired recently.” Aaron didn’t add on how he likes to be fully present and energized when he and y/n have sex. But to him, his stamina was essential so he could bring y/n to climax multiple times and in as many ways as they wanted. Aaron flushed again at the thought and said, “Now, any more questions about our personal life, Dave?” Rossi scoffed, and replied, “Nope. Grilling over. Someone has to check in on you.” Hotch rolled his eyes once more and unlocked his door to get out of Rossi’s mirthful gaze. Secretly Aaron was happy Rossi looked after him, and his sex life. It wasn’t exactly an easy topic for him to discuss with anyone apart from y/n, but it was nice to know that Rossi was invested in all parts of his life. The team was invested too, annoyingly sometimes. They all adored y/n, and she loved them too, but sometimes he caught them whispering and looking in his direction when y/n was around. He wasn’t so insecure to think that they were making fun of him, but y/n was younger than him and it could end up being a topic of conversation that he chose to ignore most days.
The day started as normal in the office but ended in one of the most frustrating cases he’d seen in years and yet another reason why he couldn’t get to y/n and satisfy their needs. When JJ dropped the case off on his desk he thought it would be a short affair. Murders in a small Texas border town normally meant that it was drug-related and the jurisdiction went back to Mexico or it was a local or personal dispute that could be easily figured out in a town of three thousand people. It turned out to be the latter, a wife wanted to divorce her husband, but the poison intended for him accidentally ended up at the family reunion killing seven people. As easy a case at it turned out to be for the BAU, as soon as the team arrived the town was swamped. The police of Procedio Texas wanted all the credit for cracking the case, but one of the victims was from Big Bend, so the Big Bend Police force sent two units to try and solve the case as well. Along with this and the constant media blast about the tension at the Southern border of the United States, State Troopers and Border agents had come as well hoping to push the narrative of fear about those immigrating and people allegedly flooding the country with cocaine.
It was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. The precinct didn’t have enough space or resources for all of the people there, and the team was bombarded with fifty different angles and agendas upon arrival. It was annoying as if those trying to swing them in a certain direction did ‘t know full well that the BAU had to be fully unbiased as they worked. There were lots of wild leads and bad reporting and mostly it was hot. Hot and crowded. Something about the elevation and the Texas sun made sweat drip down Aaron's neck and back under his white shirt and suit in an uncomfortable way. It had been Derek who had finally cracked the wife who ended up telling Morgan and Emily that it had all been an accident. Everyone but the BAU seemed disappointed. The team was just happy they would finally be able to go home. No one could be more excited than Aaron. If the jet left in less than five hours, he’d be able to make it to the highly awaited anniversary dinner and his plans after. The thought had him a bit flustered as they finished up at the hotel and moved toward the small airstrip where the jet was being prepped.
It wasn’t until everyone was on the plane that the pilot stated after five minutes on the ground, “Hey everyone. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to disembark. There’s something wrong with the electrical system that’s just popped up and I’ll need to get it checked out before we’re cleared to fly. This made everyone groan, and Aaron ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Everyone got out but Hotch who moved to the cockpit and checked in with the pilot asking how long he approximated the fix would take. He asked for the team and himself. The man shrugged and said, “Depending on what’s wrong it could be an hour or it could be overnight. I’ll keep you updated Agent Hotchner. Sorry about the delay.” Aaron nodded and moved off the jet and onto the blistering tarmac. He knew it wasn’t the pilot's fault; he was just annoyed. Rossi had waited for him while the rest of the team went to get more vans to drive them back to the motel. Dave raised an eyebrow at him and Aaron replied to the unspoken question in a clipped tone, “He’s not sure. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while.” Rossi nodded and asked, “You sounded bummed about it.” Aaron rolled his eyes and replied, “You’re not? Tonight y/n and I had plans for our anniversary. I miss her.” Rossi got the implication and gave Hotch a pat on the shoulder as they moved toward the cars that were rolling toward them. Before they got in, Dave said, “Well, maybe it’s time to think outside the box.”
The team ended up having to get another night at the motel and after everyone had settled and put their bags back in their rooms, most of the BAU made plans to get dinner at one of the restaurants in town. Emily asked Aaron if he wanted to join them, but he politely told her no, that he needed to call y/n and let her know that he wasn’t coming home tonight. Prentiss saw the disappointed look on his face and said, “Well, I’ll pick you up something to-go and keep it in my fridge. You can come and knock on my door when you want it.” Aaron gave her a smile and pat on the shoulder, appreciative of how she looked out for him. Once everyone was gone, Aaron picked up his cell and called y/n. His mind wandered to what he wanted to be doing to y/n right now or had planned for later that night, and he couldn’t help but let out a small groan at his image of her spread out on his bed, legs apart and shaking for him as he licked her cunt and clit over and over again until her first orgasm had her thighs wrapped tightly around his face pulling him closer to her core. He’d let her rest for a moment before prying her legs open again as y/n was still panting. He’d tease her entrance before sliding his cock deep inside her to have another go and get off himself for the first time. The very thought had his member twitching in his black slacks. Aaron couldn’t hold back the thoughts anymore. He’d waited for what felt like so long to satisfy y/n and himself, but her pleasure always came above his own. The tightness in his crotch told him how badly he needed y/n, and Rossi’s words rang in his ears turning them, and the rest of his face red.
Hotch had an idea flash in his head as he waited for y/n to pick up. He wondered if he could even do it. He and Haley had been traditional, this idea would never fly with her. But y/n, either to due her age or just plain confidence was more adventurous than Haley had been. They tried new things in and out of the bedroom and Aaron wondered, for a moment, if she might agree to his wild idea. With the state of his cock pressing against his fly, he was going to need to do something to relieve the pressure, and if he couldn’t be there with her tonight in person, maybe there was another way for them to get off. Just as he was building up the idea, y/n picked up.
y/n picked up her phone from the side table as she was fixing up Aaron’s place for when he got home. She had bought Aaron a bottle of his favorite scotch for him to sip on after dinner and before the real fun would begin. y/n was tidying up Hotch’s room and just moving to clean the kitchen so it gleamed when her phone beeped to life. y/n wasn’t expecting a Facetime call from Aaron. Normally after a case, he would give her a quick call on the way to the tarmac or on the jet where the reception was choppy at best. So already, y/n suspected something was up with that. She quickly swiped the answer on the call and smiled as Aaron’s beautiful face filled the screen. “Hey sweetheart,” he said in a voice that was a bit deeper than y/n expected. She noticed that he wasn’t in the jet and that he looked flustered. His eyes seemed deeper than normal. y/n smiled at him and replied, “Hi love. Did something go wrong? Is everyone on the team okay? Are you okay?” Hotch let out a huff and ran a hand through the hair on the back of his head. He said, “Well, everyone’s okay, But… well the jet isn’t. I think it’s going to be down for the night.” Aaron watched as y/n’s face fell and his heart clenched in his chest. He tried to not let the frustration get to him. Life happened, just at unfortunate times. y/n swallowed back her disappointment as she realized that Aaron wasn’t coming home tonight. “Oh,” y/n let out, adding, “Well that’s frustrating, but your gift got delayed by FedEx so I guess it’s a blessing in disguise?” Aaron knew y/n was trying to keep a good attitude, and he appreciated that she tried to see the silver lining in things. He nodded and said, “Well… I had a few things planned that I thought you might like tonight too, and well… Maybe we could still do them in a way. Over the phone?”
y/n tilted her head. The way he was talking was the way he talked right before they had sex. Even though he was excellent in bed, he always got a little shy. y/n was slightly shocked that Aaron would come up with such an idea, but it wasn’t unappealing, in fact, y/n’s core clenched in the way it always did when they started kissing and heading to the bedroom. However, they’d never had phone sex before, and y/n wasn’t sure if or how it would work between them. y/n also didn’t want to read into the situation too much in case this wasn’t what he was implying. If it wasn’t, y/n would be mortified. So to ensure she wasn’t wrong, y/n said coyly, “What exactly are you insinuating, Aaron.”
Hotch’s face turning red told y/n that she was right, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Instead, she smiled at him reassuringly as he said, “Well, I was thinking.” Aaron took a breath and continued with more confidence, “I was thinking that because I won’t be there tonight, we could come together, like if we were with each other, just on the phone?” y/n’s eyes glistened and Hotch’s flustered face made him so attractive. y/n nodded and replied, “Okay Aaron, we can try. I, I um, I’ve never tried that before, but I’d like to since we can’t be together. Just” y/n’s words faltered. She realized that she was now as shy as Aaron. y/n was going to say not for him to make fun of her, but he never would. Not in any scenario would he put her through that. That fact made y/n more confident, and she said, “Never mind about that last bit. So, how are we going to make this work? We both need our hands for what we’re talking about.”
Aaron paused. The idea had come so quickly to him and he wasn’t sure what came next exactly. His brain kicked in and he said with a sheepish smile, “How about I send you a Zoom link from my account? That way we can see and hear each other better and we’ll have our hands too.” He watched as the idea flirted through y/n’s mind. He could tell that she was a little hesitant to try this, and he said, “y/n, we don’t have to do this. I understand if you want to wait for me to be there. I just miss you in that way. I miss being with you.” y/n softly smiled at his reassurance and said, “I miss you too, Aaron. Happy anniversary by the way. I kind of forgot when you said you couldn’t come home. And, I want to try this with you. Could you give me a few minutes to just take a quick shower and get in bed? You can send the link and I’ll open it when I’m ready?” Aaron nodded, happy to know that they were going to try for something and that y/n wanted this like he did. It also comforted him that y/n needed a few moments to get ready and composed. Hotch wasn’t feeling that composed either as he nodded, told y/n that she could take all the time she needed and that he’d send her the link in a minute or two.
When Hotch hung up he took a long breath. He was surprised at himself for getting the idea out there and rather proud of himself too. That wasn’t a guarantee for what would come after they started, but it was a start. Aaron’s cock twitched in his pants again and he knew he’d need to calm down for a moment of risk coming all over his neither regions with just a few strokes of his hand if he heard y/n making the sounds he adored so much when they were together. His body was more pent-up and ready for release than he had realized. Aaron quickly pulled out his laptop and flipped to Google and his saved tabs. He kept Zoom pinned to the homepage because he often used it to talk to Jack when cases ran long and Jack needed a few minutes with his dad. Aaron always obliged his son when he could with this. He never wanted his absences to feel like a full departure for Jack and this was the easiest way for both of them if it was a longer talk. But what Hotch had planned here was nothing wholesome. Aaron tapped his fingers quickly and hashly across his keys and he brought up a new meeting and just titled it y/n. He sent her the link and access code and moved off of the bed. He knew that if y/n was just taking a quick shower and getting into something more comfortable, she’d only be about twenty or twenty-five minutes, so he took time to kick off his pants and get into a blue sweatshirt. He moved to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face and neck to cool him down slightly. He then moved back to the room pulled a cold water bottle from the fridge and took a few big sips. He was feeling warm already. Aaron turned to look at the image of himself reflected in the mirror on the wall across the bed. He realized that if he was facing forward on the bed he’d see himself and that didn’t seem that appealing to him. Yes, he and y/n might have liked to show off in bed, but the idea of doing that here in the hotel room with just him inside seemed narcissistic to him, so he pulled a towel from the bathroom and placed it over most of the mirror. He also decided to face away from the mirror just in case he could still see some part of himself reflected. The mirror did give him an idea for when he got back home to y/n and that sent another jolt through Aaron’s member and he stifled a groan.
y/n was did take a quick shower to just relax for what was coming and to feel a bit more confident before it started. She washed over her body with _y/f/s/s_ under the warm, steady spray of the shower head. When she got out, she spritzed on a body spray that she knew Aaron liked. y/n had bought new lingerie for the evening in hopes of making Aaron, well Aaron and it was a style that she thought would drive him crazy. For a second she considered saving them, but why not wear them now Hotch still had eyes, and he’d see them fine on Zoom. They were sheer were her pussy was already getting wet and there was lace on the sides that matched her skin tone perfectly. There was also an accompanying bra to match with similar sheer panels for her breasts and lace on the band that wrapped around her back. y/n hoped this wasn’t too much. However, she didn’t want to just pop up on camera nude, as she highly doubted Aaron would do so. He was too much a gentleman for that. y/n lit a candle on the side table, threw away the match, and turned on the lamps in the room for a more atmospheric environment that would keep her calm and let her body unwind to be able to do what she wanted to do. Finally, y/n pulled out her laptop and opened her email. The Zoom link was waiting for her and with a last hint of hesitation, she clicked “join meeting.”
Aaron was sitting on the bed with just the lamps on when y/n joined. His boxes were still on and he had pushed the laptop screen up so it was mostly his head, upper chest, and torso that filled the frame. When y/n’s camera turned on and he saw that she was wearing a new set of _y/f/c_ brazier and panties, his jaw slightly dropped, and his brain momentarily went blank. Suddenly his T-shirt felt incorrect for the occasion. He cleared his throat and said, “Oh my God, y/n. You look too hot in that. Did you get those just for me? Are they new?” From the screen, y/n smiled and tried to say something but her mic was muted. Aaron shifted forward and said, “Sweetheart, you're on mute darling.” When y/n recognized what Hotch had said, she rolled her eyes and moved forward on the bed so that she turned on her mic. This gave Aaron a much closer look at her beautiful tits, and he wasn’t mad about that one bit. There was a hint of embarrassment as y/n audibly said, “Oh lord, it’s all going South already. Why is forgetting to turn on your mic the most embarrassing thing ever?” Hotch chuckled and said, “Sweetie, there are a lot more embarrassing things than that. Now, would you let me get a look at what you have on. It looks fantastic on you.” y/n flushed and moved farther back from the computer at the head of the bed. She sat on her thighs with her knees open slightly enough apart for Aaron to get the whole package. y/n placed her arms behind her back which pushed out her chest a bit more for him as well. She could see his eye flash dangerously and his tongue slipped between his parted lips and wet them in a flash. Without saying anything, she shifted her weight up and turned to the side so he could see the details on the side and her profile lit by the lamp behind her.
When y/n was back in a more natural position on the bed, Aaron said, “y/n, do you have any idea how badly I want to strip those things off of you right now?” y/n smiled and replied, “What, these old things?” while stroking a hand over her chest and down to her center. Hotch let out a hot breath and said, “You’re being a tease tonight, aren’t you, y/n.” y/ replied, “Only as much as you. You still have your shirt on and I haven’t seen very much of you, love.” Aaron nodded and took the hem of his shirt stripped it off and threw it to the floor He also sat up a bit so y/n could see the large bulge in his underwear clearly in need of attention. y/n let out a little whimper at the sight and she wasn’t sure if the sound carried enough for Aaron to hear. y/n realized she’d have to be a little more vocal to make sure Aaron got all of her pleasure and moans of his name. Aaron swallowed back a little grunt. Her vocalization was barely audible, but it turned him on massively. He moved a hand to his groin and stroked over his underwear. His hips jerked a bit with the movement and he moaned slightly.
Aaron’s dark eyes looked at y/n as he said, “If I were there I’d slip my hands up your body and rest them on your breasts and massage them until your nipples got hard and begged to be played with. Instinctually y/n moved her hands up to her chest and did as he said even though her nipples had already become hard with his statement. The small bumps and hard center moved under her hand. They were sensitive and y/n let out a little moan when she pinched them with her fingers. Hotch kept moving his hand slowly up and down his clothed length as he said, “You sound so pretty like that, y/n. Keep playing with them for me love. You know how I adore your breasts.” It wasn’t long before y/n’s fingers slipped under her bra and she started tweaking her nipples the way Aaron liked to. All teasing fingers until his warm mouth got involved. The idea made her moan and her panties which were already wet, wetter. As hot as the idea was, her hands weren’t as skilled as Aaron’s large ones. Although Hotch had stamina and strength, he was always gentle with the foreplay. Helping y/n ease into whatever they had planned or innovated for the night. y/n knew she was being rougher than he was, but couldn’t find the right touch. After a few more moments of this, y/n slipped her hand under the right and then left straps of the bra and let it slide down her chest. Hotch took a deep breath like it was the first time ever seeing her like this. y/n had a way of memorizing him with her body that no one else had before. y/n undid the clasp at the back of the garment and tossed it aside.
Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Are you wet sweetheart?” y/n whimpered as her fingers traced down her center line past the waistband and into her warm folds slick with anticipation. Aaron stopped his palm where it was midway up his dick as precum beaded at the top of his cock. y/n took in a sharp breath as y/n’s fingers traced her clit up and down from her entrance to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she could hear Aaron groan her name. When y/n opened her eyes which were still half-lidded, she saw Aaron had pushed his briefs down his groin and they bunched around his hips and under his balls. His pubic hair was dark, and y/n wished she could push her mouth down this dribbling cock to the root. To feel him throb inside her throat as he guided her head up and down his length as he pleased. y/n couldn’t take waiting much longer and she knew her hand wasn’t going to be enough anymore. Not after she’d had Aaron for as long as she had. y/n pulled her hand out of her panties and Hotch asked, “Hmmm. What do you taste like, baby? Since I can’t be there to try you myself.
y/n pulled her dripping fingers from her pussy to her mouth and sucked them clean while Aaron watched, and his hand and hips started moving again. y/n pulled her fingers from her mouth and said, “It’s salty. Like your cum but different. Ugh. Babe, I’m going to get a toy if you don’t mind.” Aaron’s hips halted mid-way through moving up from the bed, and he replied, “Darling, do whatever you need to do sweetheart. I don’t mind if you use a toy at all.” y/n was a bit flustered. They’d talked about sex toys and getting off while they were both away before. Neither Hotch nor y/n often felt like getting off without the other, but sometimes the wait was long and instinct played out. Hotch had asked y/n if she used toys before him and bashfully y/n had nodded her head, though she admitted it was nothing compared to him pushing deep inside her until she could barely take any more of his length. He pulled out and pushed in again and again tantalizingly slow as he picked up to a furious pace; pushing her into the mattress with his strength and weight. Hotch had only once passed by her small basket of toys on a high shelf as he changed a lightbulb she could reach in her closet. He didn’t spend much time looking at her things, it didn’t bother him that she had them; he was fully aware that it took women a lot more effort than it did him imagining y/n undressed and seated over his cock while in the shower. But now that Aaron was going to get a chance to see y/n move with her own pleasure in mind, he was more interested to see how she acted and what she liked.
After a moment and some shifting from the closet, y/n returned with a vibrator. y/n set back down on the bed. She knew she was going to have to go wash the sheets after this, but it didn’t matter. They’d be fresh when Aaron came back at least. y/n felt a small pang that he wasn’t here in person right now but pushed it aside to focus on the fact that he was still there just on a screen. Hotch watched as y/n settled on her back and tipped the laptop so he could see her face a bit of her lower body, but getting the angle right seemed difficult for Aaron to see all of her. y/n turned on the wand pressed the head to her still hard nipples and let the vibrations course through her sensitive skin. y/n let out another moan before turning to Aaron and asking, “How are you doing baby? Are you feeling good?” Hotch nodded, absolutely absorbed by y/n’s every movement. He was working almost on autopilot now, but the feeling of precum on his left hand as he moved it up and down reminded him that he needed to pace himself. He cleared his throat and replied, “Good y/n. I feel so good watching you like that. Why don’t you take it slow y/n. You don’t need to rush. Do what feels good for you.” y/n nodded and a wistful smile played on her face as she saw the need in Aaron’s eyes and the way the tip of his dick was red and needy.
y/n pushed the head of her vibrator between her fold and slid it up her clit. The vibrations sent a jolt through her and Aaron watched as her face changed to one of concentration and pleasure as her body twitched. y/n increased her moans and she moved more to try and find the right spot to orgasm. y/n clicked up the intensity on her toy and looked as Aaron started moving his hand faster. y/n took a few minutes to run her toy up and down her pussy as her juices dripped onto the sheets. y/n was getting tired of getting close to the edge and losing it. Aaron watched with sympathy as her face focused on her task. He knew if he was there, he could help her get over the edge with his mouth, hands, and cock. He grunted slightly as he almost spilled over the edge. y/n pulled her toy off her body and slumped back on the bed. It felt good, and y/n had come in the past with the toy, but somehow having Aaron watching her seemed to affect her. y/n caught her breath and said, “Aaron, I don’t know if I can do it right now.” She sat up and Hotch’s eyes moved over her body that he could tell was tense for release. Hotch stopped touching himself again and said, “Sweetheart, would you try once more? What if I told you what I would do if I was there? Do you have a dildo baby? You can pretend I’m right there with you.”
y/n considered this for a moment and said, “Okay, I’ll try, but you must be so close. You look like it, Aaron. Do you want to get off first? I don’t mind.” Hotch chuckled and said, “It’s okay, y/n. Once I touch myself again I’ll come, but I can wait a moment. I might not be able to hold it until you climax, but I want you to have that rush that I can give you.” y/n nodded and got off the bed again. She pulled out her favorite dildo, which she never expected to be used in front of Aaron, and moved back to the bed. y/n felt for a moment like hiding it behind her back, but he didn’t. Aaron looked at y/n’s choice. The new toy was flesh-colored and not as wide as he was. For some reason, this gave him a small surge of pride which he realized was very silly. Nevertheless, he smiled. y/n got back on the bed and Hotch said, “Darling, why don’t you put the computer at the foot of the bed? Then you won’t have to worry about how you look or if I’m watching. You can relax and it will just be my voice here with you.” y/n quirker her head and asked, “You don’t mind that?” Aaron gave her that little toothy grin that y/n loved and she felt fully relaxed and confident again. y/n was going to give herself a hard time that this wasn’t easy and she kept feeling self-conscious, but she reminded herself that this was the first time either of them had done this and it was highly sensitive and just based on that, they were both doing well. y/n took a breath, set the toy down, and repositioned the laptop at the other end of the bed.
y/n lay back down with an exhilaration of breath and tried to let all of the stress go. Aaron could see her body relax and he replied, “That’s good, sweetheart. You look so pretty with your legs open like that and your pussy so swollen from teasing yourself.” Hotch swallowed before continuing, “y/n, are you ready to start with the toy or do you need some time.” y/n shyly replied, “I’m ready, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and said, “Good girl. Now just picture me there and run the head of your dildo up and down to get it nice and wet.” y/n did as he said and touched the tip to her cunt and moved it up and down. It wasn’t the same as Aaron, but picturing him doing this to her made her say his name aloud and Hotch said, “Yes. that’s it. Just say my name baby.” Aaron made y/n stroke herself a few more times before saying, “Now y/n, just put the tip in for me. I know you’re sensitive, but just push in a little and pull out for me.” He watched as y/n did as he said, his view was beautiful to see between her legs like this and watched y/n’s folds open as she slid the toy inside herself slowly. Aaron bit down on his lip to stop the loud groan from escaping his lips. Hotch told y/n “Now run it back over your clit again y/n, and when you feel ready put it back in as deep as you like. If it was me I’d slide myself deep into you.” Without thinking y/n slid the dildo back to her opening and pushed it all the way in herself. There was a small sting as the toy opened her up, but it felt so good pushing her walls open.
Aaron started pumping himself again and he knew he was going to cum as y/n started pushing the toy in and out of herself at a steady pace. Aaron matched his hand to her rhythm and said, “Ugh, y/n you’re so hot like this. Just pleasing yourself like that.” The pair worked in tandem for a minute and Hotch couldn’t hold back anymore. “I’m going to finish y/n. Ugh. Hmmm. I…I love you so much. You’re so… good for me.” Aaron moaned as his hand reached his tip again and his cum spilled out the top and over his hand in warm, sticky waves. His hips stuttered and his breathing hitched as he let go. Aaron’s sounds of release had y/n pushing her dildo faster and deeper inside of her. Hotch took a few moments to compose himself and wipe his hand over his thigh. y/n’s noises and the sound of her toy dipping deep in her wetness were louder. Hotch could tell she was engrossed and her body was nearly ready for her. He didn’t want to break her flow, but he decided to say, “y/n, slip your free hand to your clit and circle it until you can’t take it anymore baby.” y/n’s hand slipped between her folds and as soon as the tips of her middle and pointer fingers hit her bundle of nerves her legs started shaking and she let out a breathy, “Aaron.” Hotch nodded and replied in a low voice, “That’s it. Just keep touching yourself. It will just be a moment darling. Pretend my fingers are circling your clit and I’m pressing into you so deep.” Aaron’s words were all it took for y/n to press her slick fingers onto her clit and push the dildo into the base which hit her spot. y/n let out a loud, “Fuck. Agh Fuck Aaron.” Hotch watched her body, covered in a sweat writhe with bliss as her legs closed and pulled the dildo deeper inside her.
Waves of heat poured over y/n again and again like she was drowning for a moment. After the feelings subsided she relaxed back onto the bed which was slightly wet from her sweat. The cool feeling, though slightly gross did cool her body and mind down. She pulled out her toy and set them on the bed sheets which she would wash in a few minutes. y/n rolled onto her stomach so she could see Aaron’s flushed cheeks and wild eyes after he came down from his orgasm. She smiled at his blissed-out expression. y/n was sure she looked the same with her hair messed up and her stray ends everywhere. She cleared her throat and said, “Well that was something.” Hotch chuckled and said, “It sure was. Are you feeling okay. Was it alright for you?” y/n loved the attention that Aaron gave to her aftercare if not physically then always emotionally checking in. Sometimes when they got absorbed at the moment they went all in losing control of the other and he always checked in with her afterward. Of course, it would be no different over the computer. y/n nodded and said, “It was good. Thank you for suggesting this. It made me realize just how much I miss having you here. I’m excited for the real thing. So I hope you’re ready when you walk in that door whenever you come back tomorrow.” Aaron flashed her a toothy grin and replied, “Thank you for trying something new with me love, and don’t you worry. I’ll be ready.” y/n looked at the sheets and sighed before saying, “I guess I’m going to put these in the wash and take a shower to clean up. What will you do now, Aaron?” Hotch took a moment to think and said “I’ll shower and change. Emily got me some food when the team went out, so I’ll get that and eat and then sleep. But I’ll text you before then. Also, check the freezer, I got your favorite flavor of ice cream. I assumed I’d be there to share it with you, but it’s all yours baby.” y/n giggled at Aaron and how well he knew her. After they had sex she had a penchant for wanting a snack and the fact that he’d pre-bought her a sweet treat warmed her heart.
They both hung up shortly after this and spent the rest of the night thinking about the other until they went to bed. The next day the jet was fixed and everyone happily piled inside. As Aaron took his seat, y/n’s words rushed through him and his body started to react. He cleared his throat and pulled one of his files over his groin to hide his growing erection. He tipped his head back and couldn’t wait to be home. Together he and y/n would be sated in the most adoring way possible, and he was going to dream about it every minute of the ride home until it happened for real.
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#criminal minds#fanfiction#cm#aaron hotcher#ssa aaron hotchner#reader insert#hotch x y/n#hotch x reader#aaron x reader#hotch smut#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#reader one shot#spicy hotch#read the tags#criminal minds fanfiction#david rossi#im getting back into the flow of writing#🔥 Hotch#aaron x you#hotch x fem!reader#non!bau reader#fluff#comfort#aaron hotchner smut#aaron smut#hot hotch#they are pining#🩷#I love you baby
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Humans are weird: Minecraft Part 2
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
Alien: *Observes ruined remains of once proud city
Alien: What happened?
Human: There was a spider and in my attempts to kill it things got out of hand.
Alien: How does trying to kill a spider destroy your whole city?
Human: I tried using fire.
Alien: How much fire?
Human: *Points to several dozen lava buckets used*
Human: I want to say all the fire.
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Alien: Am I meeting you at your base?
Human: Nah, I lost that one so I had to build a new one.
Alien: Wait, how did you lose it?
Human: Turns out piglin’s can walk through the ender portal into the above world.
Alien: So?
Alien: It’s not a problem if you-
Alien: ……..
Alien: wait, you didn’t seal off your portal room?
Human: I did not.
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Alien: *walking through dying npc village*
Alien: Wasn’t this place thriving last time we were here?
Human: Yeah; probably fell apart when I diverted the river.
Alien: You what?!
Human: I didn’t like how it looked so I blocked it off and shifted it in a different direction.
Alien: What gives you the right to destroy this innocent town?
Human: Innocent?
Human: Have you seen their trading rates?
Human: Why would I pay 15 emeralds for an iron pickaxe?
-----------------------
Alien: Why are you hiding?
Human: I am being hunted by the deadliest creature in the game.
Alien: *Intrigued* What is that?
Human: *Points at looming shadow* There….
*Shadow takes shape and reveals itself to be a frog*
Alien: Seriously?
Frog: Ribbit.
*Frog opens its mouth and shoots out to alien*
*Tongue latches on to alien and eat him*
Human: They never listen……
--------------------------
Alien: What the hell is this?
Human: It’s my home.
Alien: It’s made of dirt.
Human: So?
Alien: Why in the sixteen hells would you make your house out of dirt?
Human: I mean, it’s everywhere.
Alien: So are fraking trees!
-----------------------------
Human: BEHOLD!
Human: A TOWN MADE OUT OF IRON!
Alien: Seems like a waste of iron.
Alien: Why did you make this?
Human: Because I wanted to make the golems protecting the town have an existential crisis as they ponder the question “Are we made out of the town, or is the town made out of us?”
Alien: By the gods you should not be left alone with your thoughts for long.
------------------------------
Alien: *Finishes building village in middle of a lake*
Alien: Finally!
Alien: No mobs will be able to make it across the water to reach them!
Human: Um….
Human: You do know about the underwater zombies, right?
Alien: I’m sorry, the what?
*Trident goes flying past head as swarms of underwater zombies emerge*
-----------------------------
Alien: Why did you spend three weeks rearranging the landscape?
Human: So I can go on long walks through it.
Alien: That’s it?
Alien: How can that possibly be worth the effort?
Human: Join me and see.
*Pair proceed to walk down a long intricate pathway with different color trees, rivers and waterfalls, mountain ranges and rolling hills*
Alien: Damn.
Alien: That was peaceful.
Human: I know, right?
-----------------------------
Alien: What are you doing?
Human: Trading with the piglins.
Alien: Why?
Human: It’s fascinating watching them when you throw gold at them.
Alien: Didn’t they destroy your city my swarming through the open ender portal?
Human: Yes.
Alien: And you’ve forgiven them for that?
Human: Oh no.
Human: I plan on sealing up their home area later on and then pouring buckets of lava into it from the highest places and watching them run, scream, and beg for their lives before the all-consuming flames devour their flesh.
Human: But right now I find them amusing so I think I’ll pause on that plan for a day or two.
Alien: ………………..
Alien: What your gods must think of you when they see such casual malice.
Human: They learned long ago to leave us be. For we have learned that they topple just as easily as their temples, and their names cast to the sands of time beneath our feet.
#humans are insane#humans are weird#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#writing#original writing#niqhtlord01#funny#minecraft
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Gods of the Dark | One | myg (m)
☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader
☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price.
☾ Word Count: 21,606
☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, intense fight scenes, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via drowning, a physical fight between a man and a woman in the middle of a storm, sexual dream sequences featuring making out, biting (light), grinding, reader having flashbacks of trauma, a lot of thoughts about reader's terrible parents, a sort of power imbalance in the sense that reader is in Yoongi's realm as a part of a deal.
☾ Published: July 9, 2023
☾ A/N: It's finally here! This was originally supposed to be two giant chapters, but I cannot manage my time in a way to write to ~40k chapters and also fit all of this in a way that is not overwhelming or feels like it makes sense, so I have chosen to do this in 4 chapters of roughly 20k words! Thank you to everyone who has hyped me up for this idea, helped me work out some ideas, or listened to me struggle to write this because I was so unsure about the chemistry between Yoongi and reader at first. I am really excited to be writing this and have taken this in quite a different direction than the original idea when I had when I watched the Lilith MV, but that's okay. I heavily draw on inspiration from the Lilith MV, the song Possession of a Weapon by Ashnikko, The Sandman by Neil Gaiman, the movie The Witch, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab and the original myth of Hades and Persephone (where I got the deal/living in Yoongi's world idea from).
Special thank you to my amazing beta team who really helped make this fic what it is and make sure it was legible: @theharrowing and @here2bbtstrash
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
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Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve
Change like a season
-
It begins with rain.
White sheets of it beating against the window in a gentle murmur, a soft leak in the corner of the kitchen dripping into the metal bucket your mother has set out. The storm brings a cool wind with it, blowing in on the back porch where your father rocks back and forth in his chair, watching the deluge.
Shivering, you throw another log into the fireplace, pulling your shawl closer as orange embers spark and crackle, drifting up the shute. The smell of burning cedar grows and you smile, sitting down in front of the licking flames and holding out your hands to warm your palms.
Behind you at the kitchen table, your mother pulls a thread and needle through a dress she’s been working on, stitching purple flowers into the sleeves. You wonder if she’s making it for the neighbor's daughter, a girl a few years younger than you to be wed soon.
Mother makes some of the best stitching in the village, her practiced hands etching artful flowers and vines and designs on the sleeves and skirts of most of the village women. She’s tried for years to pass the craft on to you, but your fingers aren’t nearly as nimble and your eye for art is sorely lacking.
What you lack in art you make up for in stories, though. Head in the clouds, swimming in worlds, places and things you’ve never seen. Lives and people who only exist in your mind, entire fantasies with more colors and sights and smells than your tiny little world contains.
You’d write them down if you could. Writing and reading is not a woman’s craft, though, and you know better than to press your father on the subject any further than you have in the past. A terse word from him and your raw knuckles after being forced to do the wash alone for weeks kept you from bringing up the topic of learning to read and write ever again, especially when you remember the sting of his slap when you pushed too far.
Still, you have your mind. You have the ability to dream up worlds and twist fantasies together, to daze off and pretend that you’re somewhere else. That you’re living another life.
You have the days where you finish working at the inn early, sitting in the corner of the room with hard bread and cheese, listening to the town’s storyteller whisper tales and myths to the children of the village.
For now, it will suffice.
When the rain finally slows in the late afternoon, it’s cloudy and cool outside, the perfect temperature for a walk. Pulling on a pair of linen pants and a tunic, you creep toward the door, hoping to avoid the attention of your parents as they begin to prepare dinner in the kitchen, their movements methodical and silent.
Carefully, you slide boots on your feet. As you reach for the front door, hidden from the view of the kitchen, you hear your mother call your name. You pause, closing your eyes and grimacing as you call back, “Yes?”
“Where are you going? It’s wet and cold outside.”
“Just for a short walk.”
“You’re going to catch a cold,” she protests. Her steps move near you. You pull the door open and step into the wet air, eager to get away from her. “Come help us with dinner.”
“I’ll see you shortly, the weather is lovely!”
Before your mother can come around the corner and pin you with her disappointed stare, you’re down the slippery steps and sloshing into the yard, mud and grass sucking at your steps as you hurry. You hear your father yell something like dammit, girl but you can’t be sure, the sounds of birds and the bugs swallowing his curses as you rush through the front yard.
The world is covered in a layer of fine mist, tree boughs heavy with rain as they drip drip drip onto the forest floor around you. Thick, gray clouds hide the sun still. Thunder rolls in the distance, promising more rain through the night. You don’t mind, diving into the darkness of the trees on a well-worn path through the woods.
Water floods the path up to the ankle, soaking your boots. You grin and kick your feet as you walk, watching the ripples flow outward. Water mosquitoes dance on top of the surface of the flood and you note little tadpoles swim by, confirming that the river by your house is flooding up over the bank and washing into the mainland.
This is common most summers. Your house is out of the way from the town, almost a thirty minute walk. This far north, you’re only ten minutes from the edge of the slow-moving river that floods yearly turning the land around your property into a marsh.
It’s your favorite time of year. A heron startles as you wander through the trees, shaking its white wings and shedding water as it hurries away on long, thin legs. You spot a snake swimming through the reeds, rushing away from you once it senses you sloshing through.
Closer to the river, you pause. It’s hard to tell where the embankment dips down with it flooded. You can see where the flood moves faster, powered by the depth of the river and the overflow from the lake up north. Leaning against a tree, you look around this world of water.
It seems alien. Trees block out the sky and are reflected in the surface of the flood, giving the illusion that you stand between two worlds, two dimensions.
What would that be like, you wonder.
According to the high priest in town, there are other dimensions. There are the heavens for the gods of light and love, who bless the world with fire and harvest and rain and oceans, who protect the people and who will absolve you of all sin and greed if you pray to them hard enough and accept them as your patrons. Who will love you only if you are devout.
You don’t believe in them for a second. If those gods of love and light do exist, they are not entirely good. They have never answered your prayers, have never saved you from pain or from sorrow. You have begged the gods to give you a new life, to let you leave. To let you go somewhere far away.
They have been silent. They were silent when your father beat you after the first time you rejected a marital match. They didn’t help you when he burned all your materials when you tried to teach yourself the shapes and sounds of letters.
So you stopped praying to them.
There are other gods, of course. Other places for the wicked, dark gods full of trickery and greed, who seek only to fill the world with sin and deceit, who desire to make humans suffer and lose themselves in hedonism and debauchery. Those gods have a place too, the dark underworld for those who should be punished and reminded what it is to be full of sin.
You’ve never prayed to them either, too afraid of what it would cost you. But you wonder if they answer or if they too watch the world from a mountain so high that they cannot bother to help those who need it.
Still, you wonder what it would be like to walk between two worlds. To see one reflected in the other, to fall face first into the cool water only to surface in another place, almost an exact replica of where you’re from.
It would be nice. Perhaps there you wouldn’t be a disappointing daughter who has turned away every suitor in the village, much to your father’s rage. There, you would be allowed to pursue reading and writing. You’d have the agency to sail the world and see the ocean for the first time, to feel the freezing spray of the seas on your face while you hunt the coast for something lost.
Always something lost.
In all of your fantasies, you’re looking for something. Sometimes, you’re not sure what it is you’re looking for, you just know that something needs to be found. Other times, it’s a specific object or a person, something that, deep down, you know represents the thing you desire to find most: freedom.
A small school of fish swim by your feet. They can’t be any larger than your pinky finger, scurrying along before they’re swept up in the suction of the flowing river. Sighing, you push off the tree and begin to head back home, swatting at your bare arms where gnats bite at your sweaty skin.
Dark presses in as you walk back. You had stayed in the woods later than you intended, mind drifting far off among the sounds of the world around you. A cool tingle slides down your neck as you walk, water breaking around you.
You pause. It’s the same feeling that you get whenever you spend far too long in the woods and the sun goes down. It feels like there’s someone there with you, just at your back. Slowly, you turn to look over your shoulder but there’s no one there, just the warm press of something you can’t see.
When it happened the first time, you’d been so afraid you ran home. Now, though, you smile and look down at the ground as you keep walking. The presence, whether it’s real or something you have made up in your head, is always comforting. Always there, a gentle press of feeling.
There are candles burning in the windows and an owl hoots in greeting when your house appears. Inside, you kick off your shoes and rush to meet your parents at the silent dinner table. Both of them look up at you, your mother’s mouth pinched, eyes weary. Your father’s gaze is thunderous as he picks up cutlery and begins to cut into his potato in saw-like motions, his knuckles going white.
You sit down without a word, bow your head to pretend to pray. Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention. “It’s after dark. You missed your prayers.”
It doesn’t matter. You weren’t going to pray anyway. But the way your parents look at you makes you drop your eyes down to the table, their expressions alarmed. Were you really about to pray after the sunset, when the benevolent gods were no longer listening? The only gods available to you now are dangerous. Violent. Tricky.
Dinner is dry and too heavily salted. Still, you don’t complain. Somewhere in the world, you’re sure that there are wonderful feasts being held. Plates and platters of honey-glazed meats, roasted pheasant and charred filets. Whipped sweets and colorful confectionaries, dripping fruits and sugary drinks.
None of those places exist anywhere that you’ve ever seen, but you like to imagine them as you chew your way through an oppressively silent meal. He says nothing, but you can tell your father is angry once again. Just as well, he at least keeps it to himself through the meal and says nothing when you’re done.
“I’ll do the dishes,” you offer quickly when your parents finish. It’s an olive branch and they know it. They accept anyway, letting you gather plates as the soft hush of rain begins again.
Rain washes out the night. You can’t see anything beyond the water that runs off the roof over the back porch as you dip your rag into warm water, scrubbing at the plates before setting them to dry in the stack next to you.
Frogs croak, their loud voices blending together into the roar of the rain. Every now and again, lightning flashes above and thunder shakes the sky. You feel it vibrate through your ribs and you smile, inhaling the charged air.
“... doesn’t have a choice!” You turn toward the open doorway. You can’t see your parents but the window is open to their room, voices coming in and out of the rain. “... force her! I’ve had… and he’s already agreed.”
You frown, stopping your scrubbing to lean further, straining your ears. “This won’t go well,” your mother says.
“I don’t give a damn! It’s already done, woman. Enough.”
The rest of the conversation is drowned out by thunder. You frown and turn back to your task, trying to piece together what they’re talking about. You think back to your mother stitching the dress before dinner and think perhaps they’re gossiping about the neighbor again. She wasn’t happy that she was being married off and everyone knew it.
Still, she’s doing it. She’s stronger than you. It’s hard to imagine going through with something you don’t want, to live a life shackled to another person who doesn’t love you. Whose only purpose is to coexist with you and reproduce. To run a household and get through each and every day, the same as last.
It’s hard to say if your parents are in love. They are tender, at times, but you can’t ever point out a moment that your mother or father seem truly happy. Content isn’t the same as happiness. Not really. While they work together well and seem to have struck up a balance after the years, there’s nothing in the way they move through life that seems joyful.
You had asked your mom if she was happy once. She gave you a funny look and said, I have a roof above my head and food on the table. How could I not be?
Her response puzzles you still. To live is not to be happy. Being alive is just that - being alive. A bare minimum. But truly being happy is something else. At least, that’s how you understand it. How the heroes and characters in stories and tales live their lives, fighting for happiness.
Later that night, you forget all about their whispers behind the sheets of rain. You’re tired and the storm is soothing, making you dream of a far away land where there are two armies entrenched in war, battling for their kingdoms and lighting the sky with storm magic.
Another dream. Another fantasy.
-
In your dream, a soft mouth meets yours. The kiss is slow, tongue dragging against yours, tasting of something sweet, mouth warm. It smells like clove and cinnamon, and though you don’t open your eyes to see the mouth that slides against yours, you know you are safe.
-
It ends in darkness.
Dusk has settled around your home like a funeral shroud. Your father has been gone all day, your mother flippant when you ask about his whereabouts. Your mother is a painted picture of anxiety: mouth pinched, darting eyes that fail to meet yours, and hunched shoulders. It makes your palms sweat, the way she avoids you in the house.
Rain comes down in patterns again, bands of storms floating by and turning the world gray. You don’t have to go to the inn with the road flooded, so you spend the day at the window instead, watching each storm flash by, listening to the frogs and watching the birds pick through bug-filled waters between each deluge.
When the sun begins to set, you find your mother standing near the window, looking through wet glass as she chews the corner of her lip. She wipes her hands on her dress, not picking up that you’re standing in the doorway watching her.
The gown she has been stitching for the past few days lays on the table. It’s a beautiful thing, bursting with intricate flowers on the sleeves and the skirts. You don’t enjoy dresses - much less the kind for marriage - but you admire the careful needlework.
“It’s a good dress,” you tell her. She startles from where she stands at the window, whirling around to face you. “One of your best.”
“Yes. I-” something crosses her face that’s unreadable. “Would you try it on for me? I want to make sure I got the sizing right.”
You shrug and pick it up. It’s not the first time she’s used you for sizing and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You just hope that she doesn’t make you stand on a stool for hours to place pins in the skirt, mapping where she needs to take in the seams and make the fabric fold.
The material is a little scratchy when you put it on. It’s snug across the chest and a little bit long at the wrist, but the material ripples over you like water. Outside of your room, the sound of your father’s voice echoes. He sounds more jovial than usual, laughing loudly - another voice is with him.
Frowning, you work the buttons on the side of the dress to secure it shut, pulling the fabric into place. It isn’t often that your father has guests over, but you can assume it’s one of his friends he has over for dinner. You make a sour face at the thought that perhaps it’s Mr. Laudermill and his son Nathaniel again, a family your father has tried to pawn you off on before.
The list of people your father has tried to get you to marry is astounding. It’s become a joke in the town, a game of who will he ask next? At first, there were plenty of families who offered their sons to make the union. Now, after how vehemently you have protested for your right to pick your husband yourself, it’s you who is rejected when your father makes dowry offers.
It seems - much to your advantage - that the men of the town and even the neighboring villages grew tired of the girl who liked to say no. It gives you small satisfaction to know that sheer inconvenience has earned you freedom alongside your mother’s unwillingness to force you.
Still, the Laudermills are a little persistent. Not your father’s favorite option he has ever brought up, but it was one that didn’t say no.
You enter the main house with minor trepidation, uneager to spend the evening sighing at Nathaniel’s terrible jokes and attempts to win you over. You wonder if it’s sheer pride that brings him back this time, upset that he cannot beat the town's little conundrum. The unconquerable conquest. You get the feeling that’s why he and his father visit for dinner sometimes, Nathaniel’s pride unwilling to back down from the challenge.
You’d respect him more if he had more admiration for the word no.
Nathaniel and his father are in the main room of your home, speaking in laughing tones to your father. Your mother stands near the open back door, hands wringing together. There is another person in your house that you don’t expect, though. The village’s high priest nods his head along with something that your father is saying, wrinkled hands clasped in front of his robes.
Time seems to slow down. You take in the tight expression on your mother’s face, her eyes drifting over to the priest who is dressed in ceremonial purple robes, an air of professional courtesy about him. He’s nodding to Nathaniel who is speaking now, and it’s when you really look at him, dressed in nice linen pants, a long sleeved shirt and an ornate vest, that you put the pieces together.
Too slowly do you react as your father turns to you. His smile is forced and his gaze is burning with warning when he gestures. “There’s our bride!”
The word sinks in like a blade. Right between the ribs and up, its point poking dangerous at your heart as your blood begins to roar in your ears. You’re frozen to the spot, staring at them from the threshold of your room. You can feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, your hands shaking.
“You look beautiful,” Nathaniel says, grinning. It’s a genuine smile, a proud one. Something that says finally. “I’m so glad you’re ready, after all this time.”
“I… what?”
In a moment of razor-sharp clarity, you remember the conversation your parents were having last night, soft words whispered under the cover of the storm. You remember something about forcing her and someone having already agreed.
No. No. Nonononononono.
You don’t realize you’re speaking out loud as you back up into your room, the horror settling in as the rain begins to tap on the roof. Your mother looks crestfallen but remains silent as your father’s smile tightens and his face reddens.
When he says your name, it’s full of warning. The back of your legs hit your bed and your weak knees buckle. You sit down with a huff and shake your head. “You can’t do this,” you whisper. You can’t find your voice, can’t work your throat louder. “You cannot make me marry.”
“Of course I can,” your father hisses. His smile drops and in its place is something dangerous. Horrific. The villain of all your dreams and epic fantasies. “I have given you more than enough time to choose. You have not. As the man of this house-”
“No!” you bark back, cutting him off and shooting to your feet. “I am a person-”
“You are a woman!” he roars, making the high priest flinch. “Your purpose is to grow up, get married, mind the household and provide an heir! You are the only fiendish woman in this entire forsaken village who seems to misunderstand this!”
“It is not my purpose!”
“It is, and you will fulfill it!” he hisses. “You will marry this man before the gods, with my blessing and the witness of the priest.”
Behind you, thunder rolls. The rain comes down harder. Frogs croak loudly, bracketed by the sound of the trees bending with the weight of the wind. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the people before you. Your mother with tears in her eyes, your father with fury in his face, the priest with disappointment and Nathaniel. Nathaniel with glee. With a grin. With a smirk.
“I won’t do it,” you whisper.
Before they can argue, you turn on your heel and leap onto your bed. Your father and Nathaniel rush at the doorway, their steps pounding behind you as you crawl through the window, your ribs slamming on the sill as you lean face forward. Rain soaks you immediately, your hands gripping the sill as you haul your middle half over the edge, intending to just flip down into the mud.
Hands yank at your legs and you scream, a feral sound ripping through your lungs as you kick backward violently. You’re yanked back toward your room viciously, rib cage aching where you slide on the concrete frame. With another savage kick, you make contact and hear a loud shout before the hands drop from your waist.
Pushing harshly, you throw yourself the rest of the way through the window, falling the few feet down to land with a splash. Your father is screaming inside the house but you’re already slipping to your feet, whatever he says drowned out in the rain.
You don’t even think. You run, hands picking up the wet-leaden skirts on your dress as you tear off toward the woods. Water rushes around your ankles as you go and you hear commotion at the window as someone clambers through. You don’t dare turn around as you rush to the line of trees, unafraid of the dark but terrified of the slamming footsteps behind you.
It’s impossible to be fast in the flooded woods. You wince as your feet get cut up on rocks and sharp sticks that you can’t see. You trip over roots and kick solid things as you slog forward, biting back a cry as you try to flee.
“Get back here, you wretched bitch!” Nathaniel screams behind you.
It never occurred to you that he could say something so violent. It spurs you forward, mud and water sucking your feet down and making your flight sticky and slow. Rain pelts down between the leaves, the storm lighting up the treetops with purple flashes every now and again. Thunder shakes their branches and rumbles through your feet, the water rushing higher and higher.
Nathaniel slams into you at the waist. You scream as he takes you down, his weight on top of you. Your scream is cut off as your mouth fills with water. You swallow in a panic, body thrumming with alarm as you choke, nose full of water, eyes burning. You can hear the dull roar of water, the swish of your tangled limbs on the floor.
Clawing at him, you feel your nails rip down soft flesh and hear a muted yell. He lifts his weight off of you and you sit forward, breaking the surface and gasping for air, retching. Your lungs and nose burn as you gasp for air, fighting to get a breath in.
Nathaniel is on you again, his hand going for your hair as he digs his fingers in hard, yanking at your scalp. Your hands fly to his wrist and you scream again, pulling at him, trying to free yourself. Tears smart your eyes from the stinging pain as he yanks hard enough that you think he’ll tear you right apart.
“Fucking ungrateful,” he barks.
Your feet slide in the mud as he uses your buoyancy in the knee deep water to haul you back toward the house. You twist in his grip, mewling in panic and pain as you work to get your feet under you and fight back. You let go of his arm and throw a weak punch at his ribs. He grunts but doesn’t let go, even as you twist, hands shooting to the ground, digging through soaked earth and weeds until you feel the hard, rough shape of a rock.
Grabbing it, you lift your hand from the water and bring it down hard on Nathaniel’s wrist. He screams and lets go of your hair. Your fingers ache from the blow but you don’t waste precious minutes, scrambling to your feet and sloshing away from him again. He’s already gripping at your dress, fingers ripping at the fabric to get a hold of you.
Desperation claws at you and you scream for help. You don’t know if anyone else is out here in the dark of the woods but you don’t care. Bleeding, in pain, and terrified, you tear through the water, the rock clutched in your fingers, rushing in the dark as Nathaniel gives chase.
“Please!” you scream at the dark. “Anyone, please!”
A thread of thought slivers through you about the gods. Praying to the gods has never gotten you anywhere. It didn’t make your father let you read. It didn’t get you out of your town. It didn’t save you from this. The supposed gods who rule with light and love had never heard you and you had long stopped believing in them.
But you’d never prayed to the gods of the dark. The gods who only listen to words whispered after the setting sun.
“Please,” you beg, turning your head to the dark sky. Lighting flashes and thunder rumbles. Cool wind brushes against your face, wind that feels like it whispers I’m listening. “Please,” you scream again. “Help me, I’ll give you whatever you want. Help me!”
Nathaniel takes you down by the waist again. You gasp for air this time as your face slaps the water with a sting. The current is rushing faster here, pulling at you. Deeper. Colder. You’re close to the river, and you feel the suction of the force of the flow tugging at your body as Nathaniel digs his fingers into the meat of your arms.
This time, he doesn’t pull you with him. He holds you down, shoving you deeper and deeper until you realize that he’s no longer interested in bringing you back. You kick at him, you tear at him. You slam his wrist with the rock again but his other hand grabs yours, wrenching the weapon away from you.
Your lungs are screaming and water is rushing into your nose as oxygen escapes you. His grip is firm and you begin to panic. All you can think is help help help help. Please help.
Bubbles escape your mouth as you’re forced to breathe out again. You’re running out of time and pain starts to build in your chest. You feel the way your lungs squeeze, needing air. You let out more air and press your lips tight, desperately trying not to inhale.
Breathe in, your instincts scream. Breathe breathe breathe breathe.
Agony. You’re in agony as you open your mouth in a final cry, unable to form the words. Unable to scream and ask for a higher power that you only believe in at this moment to help you.
Water fills your mouth. You swallow it whole, feel it go down as you begin to spasm.
You’re going to die.
And then Nathaniel’s hands are gone. It takes you a moment to realize that there’s no crushing grip on your arms and in the brief moment of realization, you barely manage to push up. To break the surface and vomit, water coming out of you in a stinging, horrid mess. Your stomach turns and you feel your chest squeeze as you choke.
The storm is still raging around you, water pulling at you and pressing you into the rough bark of a tree. Blinking tears from your eyes, you look around but it’s too dark to see. You can hear Nathaniel looking for you, screaming your name in the dark.
The back of your neck tingles. There’s a feeling in the air behind you - that sliver of breath that you often sense when you’re out in the woods alone just after dark. Like something or someone is there with you, just behind you.
“What is it you want?” a deep, dark voice whispers. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel chilled to the bone. The voice is like none you’ve ever heard, sensual and dizzying.
“Want?”
“You asked for help.” The voice switches to your other ear and you don’t dare turn around to find the speaker. “What do you want?”
“What can you give?”
The voice chuckles. The sound makes you shiver, your eyelids fluttering. The voice purrs, “I can give you anything you dream, little lamb. Tell me: what do you want?”
You think about it. Lightning lances through the sky and for a brief moment, the world is a flash of silver. You see Nathaniel in the light, a few feet away from you. He’s bloody and heaving, his eyes snapping to where you hide against the tree.
“Freedom,” you gasp as the world falls to darkness again. “I want freedom.”
“What will you give me?”
“What do you want?” you beg, hearing Nathaniel move toward you.
There’s a soft hum and you feel lightheaded at the sound. “Your time.”
“My time?”
“Your time in exchange for freedom, little lamb. Better hurry, this offer is about to expire.”
Nathaniel screams in a rage. Sloshes closer to you. Your heartbeat quickens. You can feel it in your chest, hear it in your ears, your pulse throbbing as he nears.
“Okay,” you whisper, voice coming out shaky.
“Then tell me you accept.”
You take a deep breath. “I accept.”
There’s a brush at the nape of your neck, warm and soft. Though you’ve never been kissed before, you think that it’s the press of lips, intimate and barely there. Something inside you flickers to life, like a new instinct that has opened its eyes for the first time. You’re aware of another presence, a soft buzz that presses down on you as it stands up next to you.
Thunder rolls and you feel someone brush by you. A hand touches your cheek almost fondly, fingers dragging along the curve of your jaw. Blinking slowly, you lean into the touch, seeking its comfort. You don’t know who it belongs to. All you know is that just the feel of fingers on your skin has your stomach flipping, your toes curling.
The hand drops from your face and you immediately miss the contact. Opening your eyes, you see another flash of lightning. There’s someone standing in front of you dressed in black, slick with rain. You can’t make out anything much, just the shape of a man in a dark cloak.
A god. You know he’s a god, whoever this savior is. You know that something has heard your screams in the dark and has come to give you what you wanted. What you begged for.
“She is no longer available to you,” the god announces to Nathaniel. It’s not the same whisper as a moment ago, but a deep, raspy voice. Dark. Demanding. “She’s mine.”
“That’s my betrothed,” Nathaniel answers, though it comes out like a question, his voice trembling. “I– she belongs to-”
“Me,” the dark god assures. A loud clap of thunder makes you flinch. “Goodbye, Nathaniel Laudermill.”
Nathaniel screams. You don’t know what happens. There’s just his shout of terror in the dark and a roll of thunder that shakes the trees and rattles the earth. You feel the vibration in the water from the unearthly thunder before you realize that this sound, this trembling, is the wrath of a god.
The sound fades and the shaking stops. You feel more than see the god in front of you turn to face you, a sweeping warmth as he bends down. You cannot make out any features, your vision swimming with bursts of color in the lack of light.
“You’re with me now,” he assures you. “And you should not be afraid.”
Gentle hands reach out and cradle your face. You’re suddenly tired, every pain in your body weighing you down like stones, pulling at you until you’re closing your eyes and succumbing to the heavy exhaustion.
The last thing you remember is your whispered name on reverent lips.
-
You’re dreaming. Your eyes are closed in this dream but you feel light and warm. Fingers brush over your cheek, soft and reverent. You hear a gentle, deep humming, a pleasant melody. It smells like clove and cinnamon, making you drift further into the dream. You lean into the hand cupping your face and hear a deep chuckle before drifting off into nothingness.
-
The first thing you notice is the smell of clove and cinnamon. It’s a soothing scent that sends your heart fluttering as you roll over. The blankets wrapped around you feel divine, soft with a high loft that feels like you’re wrapped in clouds. The mattress is decadent, sucking you in further as you settle in on your side, inhaling deeply.
Then you remember hands tearing at your legs. Ripping you by the hair. Water filling your lungs and throat. The flash of lightning and the cold rain as you were dragged under a flood again and again.
With a gasp you sit up in bed, heart hammering. You still as you look around, mouth dropping open at the opulent room. The bed is the largest thing you’ve ever seen, on a low platform swimming with charcoal colored sheets and pillows. The headboard looks like polished obsidian, glinting in the low light provided by dozens of flickering candles.
Stone walls make up the room, rough rock with sconces of flickering flames. The room is sprawling with a sitting area a step down from the bed, decorated with chaise lounges, a coffee table and high-backed chairs situated in front of a fireplace. Flames crackle on a log, orange light dancing across the room. On either side of the fireplace are bookshelves that stretch up to the high ceiling.
Across from the bed are open double doors where you can see a magnificent bathroom. From your vantage point, you can just make out sinks carved from a hewn rock and what looks like a trickling waterfall sluicing down the wall.
Turning to the left, there is a set of glass doors, a balcony just on the other side. It appears to be nighttime outside, thousands of stars glittering through the glass and the largest moon you’ve ever seen suspended in the sky like a lone coin.
Carefully, you peel back the covers. You’re still in the wedding dress your mother made you. It’s stained and tattered and bloodied, making your stomach flip uncomfortably as you look down on it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you place your feet on the stone flooring, expecting it to be cold to the touch.
It isn’t. Warmth radiates from the floor through the soles of your feet, making you sigh, tension bleeding from your shoulders as you close your eyes for a moment. Though the aches and the pains from being scratched and hit and torn down are gone, you wince as you recall them.
Your parents were going to force you to marry Nathaniel. You don’t know how you missed the signs before, how you thought that there was any other path. With your elbows pressed to your knees, you hang your head in your hands, pressing your eyes shut and taking another shuddering breath.
This time, a sob slips out. Somehow, you had tricked yourself into thinking that your parents would abide by your wishes to make your own choices. Foolish, you realize. Your father had not grown complacent. He had been biding his time, waiting to strike.
The smallest viper has the greatest sting.
And your mother was going to let him do it. The woman who had brought you into the world screaming and bloody was going to pass you off to a man, even if it meant that man dragged you kicking and screaming to the altar.
Disgust curls in your stomach and your hands turn into firsts, pressing against your closed lids and making bursts of colors flash in your eyes. Split down the middle, one part of you mourns the loss of the parents you thought that you had. The other is an open wound, festering with a hateful infection at the very thought of them.
The sound of the door opening catches your attention. Your heart leaps as you sit up straight, dropping your hands into your lap as a man slips through the large double doors near the sitting area. Your breath catches in your chest as he sweeps into the room, looping his hands behind his back as he sets his dark eyes on you and approaches.
He’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, you think. Inky hair falls into his enigmatic eyes. His skin is deep gold, a contrast to the all-black blouse that he wears tucked into black pants. You see the open collar of his shirt revealing a patch of tan skin and an elegant throat, but it’s his face that shatters your mind.
The man - or god, you think - has a square, masculine jaw offset with a delicate mouth the color of rose petals. His nose is straight and wide and would look ridiculous on anyone else. On him, it’s the perfect balance, his cheekbones high and angular, cutting the roundness of his nose.
“Good to see you’re awake,” he greets. The man stops at the edge of the step that leads to where the bed sits higher than the rest of the room. You stare and stare and stare at him, unable to process words as he grins at you. His voice is dulcet and warm, but not the voice that promised to save you. “How do you feel?”
“I…” you rasp out and you shake your head, unable to think of anything else.
His mouth quirks and he nods. “It sounds like you had a terrible time. How about you take a well-deserved bath and get out of that terrible dress? Sorry to have left you in it, I was under strict instructions not to invade your personal space.”
“Yes, please.” You hesitate. “Where am I? Whose instructions?”
“You’re somewhere safe with someone who wants you to remain safe.”
“Where is safe?”
He gives you a secretive smile as he nods toward the bathroom before turning on his heel and striding away. On unsteady feet, you follow him. It helps that the floor is warm, giving you the strength you need to make it down the two steps and across the stone toward the bathroom.
“I don’t think I’m the right person to answer your question,” he admits. “I’m just here to help you get settled. My name is Taehyung, by the way.”
“Taehyung.” You say the word, familiarizing yourself with the shape of it as you enter the room and stop.
The bathroom is far more luxurious than you realized from afar. There is a waterfall running down the black rockface between two basins, trickling into a little fountain that drains on the floor. To the right side of the bathroom is a large body of steaming water.
Herbal scents fill the room as you near the edge of the dark surface of the water. It reminds you of hot springs in a cave near the southern villages, a place you’d only heard of but never seen. It’s massive, surrounded by a smooth, stone edge. There is a corner full of what appears to be salts, soaps and herbs alongside flickering candles.
Opposite the hot spring is a giant glass window that overlooks mountains and lush greenery. From the window, you can see the entire world of wherever you are stretched out in the most dazzling and wonderful display. You can’t help but feel as though you’re somewhere that belongs in the epitome of night.
“How deep is that?” you ask, turning to Taehyung with a wary expression as you gesture to the body of water.
His expression softens. “Waist high when you stand in the middle. There is a ledge that you can sit on all the way around. It’s incredibly safe and very warm. I can stand just outside the door if anything goes wrong.”
“Okay.”
Taehyung points to a stack of clothes resting on a stool near a cabinet full of towels and jars of things. “Those are for you to change into. The towels are for you to dry off, of course. Anything in the bathroom is yours to use.” Taehyung must sense your hesitation, because he gives you a soft smile. “You’re safe here. I promise.”
“I’d feel better if I knew where here was.”
“Bathe. Relax. Then I’ll take you to him.”
Taehyung does not give you a chance to ask to whom he refers. He strides out of the room and the door swings shut seemingly on its own. You blink a few times at it, standing in the middle of the warm bathroom in a daze.
Spinning, you look around the room and find yourself drawn to the window. Up close, you realize how high up you are. It’s a bit dizzying, and you look down at the ground only to see that there is a garden bursting with purple and blue, neat rows of flowers that stretch until they meet a line of trees.
A world of mountains unfolds beyond the window. You’ve never seen mountains but they are larger than you could have ever imagined, snowcaps stark against the night sky. It’s mesmerizing and a little too big, so you turn away from the window and head for the steaming basin of water.
Peaking over the edge, you can see the bottom. It doesn’t look that deep, but your stomach twists as you pop the buttons on your dress. Your fingers feel stiff and disjointed as you work to undress. You look down at the ripped threads and the dirty fabric and think about how much time your mother spent stitching it.
Suddenly the dress feels suffocating and you pull hard on the garment, popping buttons from the threads and sending them clattering on the floor. You shed the dress and kick it away from you, stripping off your undergarments and lowering yourself to the edge of the water.
A sigh leaves your mouth as you slide your feet and legs in first. The water is hot, though not scalding like you expected. Closing your eyes, you remain sitting on the edge for a moment, letting your calves soak and muscles unwind, fingers gripping the edge tight.
Taking a deep breath, you slide forward a little, firmly placing your feet on the ledge Taehyung spoke of. For a moment, your fear spikes. You feel it sharp in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the edge of the basin. With a few deep breaths, you carefully slide down to the ledge proper, sinking in the hot water to the chest.
“I’m not going to drown,” you whisper to yourself. The words come out shaky and you’re not entirely sure that you believe them. “I’m not going to drown, I am not going to drown, I am not going to drown.”
You repeat the mantra until you believe it, your fingers grasping the edge of the stone seat as you try to relax and melt into the water. It takes a while, but you finally grow too tired of remaining tense, taking a deep breath and gaining the courage to relax.
Gently, you rest your head against the edge of the basin. Heat seeps into your skin and you feel the anxiety bleed out of you, your tensed muscles unwinding. You hadn’t realized how clenched up you were until you let go, and your body sags a little bit in the water.
Time slips away. Thankfully, your body doesn’t hurt the way you anticipated that it would. Frowning, you press your fingers into your skin where there should be bruises and pain. There is no evidence on your skin that Nathaniel laid his hands on you the night before - the day before? You’re unsure how much time has passed, only that there is an eerie absence of your wounds.
Turning your head, you look at your dress discarded on the floor. There’s certainly evidence of a struggle spattered all over the fabric, but it makes you wonder if the god who answered your prayers has healed you.
A god.
The thought comes to you in a snap and you stare down at the water, eyes unfocusing as you try to recall the details of what happened. You remember screaming for help, the sound of your desperation ripping through your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever screamed like that, terrified and wild. You remember thinking about the gods, begging them to hear you, willing them to listen.
Water had been filling your lungs. Crushing out air. You remember the rush of the stream around you as it pulled at your fighting body. Nathaniel’s hands gripping you and holding you under viciously, fingers like claws as he tried to drown you.
Then you surfaced and choked, completely shrouded in darkness…. And you remember that quiet voice made of smoke and shadow. Thinking of it now makes you shiver, despite how hot the water is. The voice had promised you freedom in exchange for time and had taken you to wherever this place was.
You open your eyes, unsure when you had even closed them. Glancing around the room once more, you decide there is no way that you’re anywhere close to home. You’ve never seen anything like this bathroom before, a feat of what appears to be architecture and maybe magic.
Soaps and salts line the edges of the bathing pool. When you feel brave enough, you dart across the middle like a minnow, trying not to think about how you nearly crossed death’s bridge in a shallow body of water not long ago.
Unscrewing lids, you smell each of the glass bottles of liquid, humming in delight. You settle on a hard bar of soap that smells like lavender and mint. It feels good to scrub your skin raw. You imagine that you’re washing away all of the memories of Nathaniel’s fingers on your skin and the scratchy dress your mother made for you.
Fingers and feet pruned and skin feeling stripped of a top layer, you reluctantly exit the bath. The towels are the softest thing you’ve ever felt. You run the fabric between your fingers, tilting your head up at the sky and sighing. Wherever this dark god has taken you doesn’t seem so terrifying, yet it puts you more on edge, these luxuries.
The clothes Taehyung left out for you fit well enough, though it’s obvious they are not your exact measurements. He’s provided you with soft, black pants and a loose, black tunic with intricate designs that look like clouds on the sleeves and collar.
You hesitate when you’re ready to leave the bathroom. So far, it seems that whatever bargain you’ve struck with this god has been in your favor. But you know you’ve made a deal in a moment of fear, and you’re not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to.
Time.
Though you’re nervous, you can’t stay hidden in the bathroom forever. Nudging the door open, you peek around the edge, gaze sweeping the room as you look for Taehyung. He’s standing in the sitting area, face toward the flickering fire. He looks both terrifying and beautiful, hands linked behind his back as he watches the flames.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Taehyung calls without turning around. “I mean it when I tell you that you’re safe.”
Slipping through the door, you walk toward him, regarding him warily. “Still,” you answer. “I don’t know where I am. Are you even human?”
He does look over his shoulder then, flashing you a wicked grin. “I’m not.”
Taehyung’s answer doesn’t put you at ease, but you’re unsure what to do. Wordlessly, he gestures for you to follow him as he heads through the door and out of the room. For a moment, you hesitate. What would happen if you refused to leave the room? Is your deal with the god already in effect? What are its limitations?
You can answer none of the questions you have, so you follow Taehyung, hoping to find answers soon. Except as soon as you step out of the room, you think you might have even more questions.
The halls are dark and lit with flickering torches, casting an orange glow up to the cavernous ceilings. Though you’ve never been in a castle or seen one, you have an idea of how grand they are. There is no doubt in your mind that this is a castle, the halls resplendent and sweeping with artwork and fabric and statues.
In front of you, Taehyung walks jovially with his hands linked behind his back. He hums a tune you don’t know, but it sounds smooth and warm. You follow behind him, casting your gaze around as you walk, trying to remember which turns you take and what paintings you pass.
You reach a tall, closed set of wooden double doors. Taehyung raps his fingers against the door, looking over his shoulder at you with an excited grin. Your stomach flips and you wipe your palms against the bottom of your tunic. Your hands feel shaky and you twine them into the fabric, willing them to stop.
Taehyung must hear someone on the other side of the door, because he opens it and steps in and to the side, gesturing for you to enter. You take a deep breath and walk by him into the room, stopping immediately as you look up, your mouth falling open.
It’s a library grander than you could ever imagine. Your town had quite a small library at the church that belonged to the high priest, but this is something beyond your wildest dreams. The ceiling stretches higher than your imagination, filled with floating lights and stars - the entire night sky is stretched above you in swirling constellations of purple and blue.
Three floors make up the library, each lined with books and windows that look out into the evening. You can see sprawling gardens beyond the tinted glass, but it’s the shelves of books that catch your attention. Stepping into the room further, you slowly spin, looking at the sheer amount of volumes that line the walls. There are multiple seating areas with rich, velvet blue armchairs and couches, tables full of books and papers and ink bottles and maps.
Your throat tightens as you look at Taehyung, your mouth wobbling. The urge to burst into tears has never felt greater than this moment. You never imagined that you could stand in a room with so many books, and the desire to pull one off the shelf and delve in is cut short by the single, glaring fact that you don’t know how to read them.
Distracted by the books upon entry, it takes you a moment to notice another presence in the room. You feel a tingle at the back of your neck, one that draws your eyes toward a long table near the fireplace. It’s the same feeling you had when you were saved from Nathaniel, an awareness that buzzes along your skin.
A man stands in front of the table, watching you with dark, feline eyes. He’s beautiful. Otherworldly, really. His round features remind you of the moon, but it’s the sharp eyes and the careful pout of his mouth that draws you in. He looks both delicate and dangerous, and you notice the quirk on his lips as he watches you watch him.
He’s in all black. Black pants tucked into black, knee-high boots, and a black, long-sleeved shirt. There’s a layer of necklaces around his neck and you can see shapes and runes that are unfamiliar to you. The same runes and shapes are on the rings on his long, delicate fingers, folded in front of him.
This is the face of a god. You know it in the way that there’s something ancient in his eyes and in the way he glows from within. His power is tangible, a crackling energy pressing up against every nerve in your body.
“How are you feeling?” his voice vibrates right to your core. Soft and dark like you remember it, though a little rougher now. Gravelly. He studies you, unmoving. “Hopefully well-rested?”
“I feel…. Better.” Finding the words is hard in his presence, especially under the scrutiny of his gaze. You want to dart out of the room and hide, but you also don’t want to leave the library without exploring. “I think I should thank you?”
It comes out as a question and he smirks a little. Your stomach flutters at the sight; he raises a brow. “You’re welcome. Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep for nearly a day.”
The door shuts behind you and you startle, whirling around to see that Taehyung has left you. Your nerves fray further and you turn back to look at the god watching you. Behind him on the table, you realize it is a feast of sorts. Roasted meats and poultry, platters of fruit, plates of cheese and neatly arranged crackers, steaming pans of vegetables and things you cannot identify.
He notices. “You must be starving. Come. Eat.” When you don’t move, he sighs. “I didn’t save you just to harm you.”
It’s true enough. You carefully approach the table, eyeing him as he unclasps his hands and pulls out a chair for you. When you hesitate, he arches a dark brow again and you feel yourself grow warm in the face, muttering your thanks as you hurry over to the chair and sit down.
The god’s presence is buzzing. He doesn’t touch you, but it’s like you feel him anyway, just an inch away from you. He helps you slide your chair in and gives a deep, contented sigh before he moves toward the opposite end of the table, taking the dull hum of energy with him.
Across the table, he sits. His gaze finds yours again as you stare at him, finding it difficult to look anywhere else. Even with the smell of a divine meal, your attention on him is a fixed point. If this bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he leans back in his seat, casual and confident.
“Have what you like,” he offers. “I don’t know what you enjoy and I didn’t want to pry.”
The table is full of options. You chew the inside of your cheek. There is glazed duck and roasted ham, creamy looking potatoes and sauced vegetables. Your stomach growls and twists painfully as you stare at your choices.
“The duck is good,” he offers gently. You glance up. He nods towards the dish in question. “Sorry, it’s probably overwhelming.”
“A little,” you answer, but take him up on his advice and go for the duck. “Where are we?”
“In between.”
You frown as you plate different foods, fingers sticky as you do. You’re hyper-aware of him watching you and you try not to look up, feeling your hands quake as you add roasted veggies to your plate. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what you think it does. We’re at the in-between of all things. Not a solid place in your sense of understanding. It’s not a physical manifestation of a land mass, but it is a world that contains physical things.”
“A… dimension?”
“Exactly. This is my domain.”
“And what… are you?”
You look up at him then. His lips twitch at the corners and he tongues the inside of his cheek. “A god. But you already knew that.”
“Wanted to hear you say it.”
Silence falls between you as you pick up a knife and fork, cutting carefully into your meat. You pop it between your lips, sighing when the duck melts on your tongue with the taste of honey and something else. You sag in the chair, not realizing until now how tense you had been to this point. The food sends a wave of warmth through you and the god watches as you take a few bites, patient as you eat.
“This is fantastic,” you say, glancing at him as you reach for a glass of water. “The flavors are like nothing I’ve ever had.”
“I assure you that all things here are like nothing you’ve ever had.” You hum in agreement, taking another eager bite. You cannot imagine anything in the real world tasting this succulent. You almost wonder if perhaps this is all a dream. “You didn’t pray before you began to eat.”
Your chewing pauses. He’s bemused, giving you a sideways grin with his brows raised. You swallow thickly and say, “Praying never got me anywhere until recently. Why did you help me?”
“Because you asked.”
“You didn’t have to, though.”
It isn’t a question. He answers anyway. “I didn’t.”
“So why did you? The other gods have never helped me.”
“The other gods aren’t me.” His voice is soft and lethal, raising the hair on your arms. “We are not all the same, and you’d do well to not make any further comparisons moving forward.”
You lower your gaze. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Gods are fickle beings. We are quick to offend and slow to let go. You don’t know any better and are thus forgiven.”
“What do I call you?”
For a moment, he hesitates. You think he isn’t going to answer just as he says, “Yoongi. You can call me Yoongi.”
“Is that your name?”
“It’s one of them.”
“How many names do you have?”
He chuckles. It’s a delightful sound and you smile, watching him lean his head back against his chair, looking up as he shrugs. “How much time do you have?”
Time.
Suddenly, you remember that you aren’t here on this god - Yoongi’s - good graces. You’re here because you called for someone in a moment of need and he agreed to help you, but at a cost. Your time. He had asked for your time, and a sense of anxiety tiptoes its way up your spine as you think about the ambiguity of his deal.
Swallowing harshly, you shift back in your seat. The food in your stomach feels a little heavy, far too rich for you to eat more than a few bites. You’ve only ever known your parents’ staples of meat, bread, cheese, and root vegetables.
“When you saved me,” you begin. “You made a deal with me.”
“I did.”
“My freedom in exchange for my time.”
His eyes are glittering as he watches you, completely still. The fireplace next to you crackles. It makes shadows dance across his face, giving him the appearance of something wild and untamed. Your heartbeat quickens as you watch him, this godly being, as he stares you down.
“That was the deal,” he finally hums. His head cocks to the side a little. “I don’t usually discuss business over dinner.”
“I’m done eating.”
He huffs but doesn’t seem annoyed. “Perhaps tea, then? It will help settle your stomach.”
You narrow your eyes. “How do you know that my stomach needs settling?”
“I know a lot of things.” Yoongi rises and gestures to the chairs directly in front of the fireplace. You stand, following his lead. There’s a quiver of energy in the air and you pause, turning to look back at the table to see it’s completely bare, no trace of anything left. You whip around to look at Yoongi as he sits in a wingback chair. “I can do a lot of things.”
A steaming cup of tea sits on a wooden table next to the chair you sink into. The cushions are soft, swallowing you in and making your muscles melt. The cup is warm when you pick it up, steam curling off the surface. Sniffing, your eyes flutter as you inhale the smell of mint.
“What are you the god of?” You open your eyes and look at him. Both of his feet are planted flat on the floor, his arms resting on the arms of the chair. He looks a little stiff, more so than he did at dinner. Orange firelight reflects in his inky eyes. “You’re a god of the dark.”
“There’s no such thing,” he scoffs, and you frown. “Your concept of gods is skewed. There is neither good nor evil, light nor dark. There are just gods.”
“So it doesn’t matter who you pray to?”
“We don’t need your patronage. If we did, we wouldn’t be gods, would we?” You’d never thought of it that way. You sip your tea, letting the warmth and sharp mint bloom in your mouth. “We’re beyond the simple classification that mortals use to understand and organize what they think our intentions are. I have been classed as both good and evil, light and dark, benevolent and malevolent.”
“But surely there are things that are inherently evil, even among the gods.”
“Of course there isn’t. Evil is a point of view. It is a word used to define the feeling one has when the opposite of their desire occurs.”
“I… guess that makes sense. But isn’t something like murder wrong?”
“Are you not the villain of the duck you ate today?” You blanch. Yoongi looks smug as he gestures vaguely with his hands. “Are you not evil for calling down the wrath of a god on Nathaniel Laudermill?”
“He was going to kill me.”
“You rejected his hand in marriage. You did the opposite of what he desired. I believe in his eyes, you are the evil. Is Death evil for doing what he was made to do?”
Yoongi’s words make your head spin. You gulp a mouthful of scalding tea before setting it on the table next to you, your mind reeling. The realization that you’re sitting in a library with a starry ceiling arguing over morals and the concept of evil with a god who has saved you from certain death makes you giggle.
He seems surprised by your sudden outburst, raising his brows as you cover your mouth, your fingers pressed to your lips as you try to contain your sudden mirth. “Sorry. This seems absolutely insane. I’m arguing over the word ‘evil’ with a god in a realm that is everywhere and nowhere at all. It feels like perhaps I’m dreaming.”
“You’re not. Though your dreams are dizzying and far more colorful than anyone else I know. You should be proud of them.” You furrow your brows. How does he know what you dream of? Before you can ask him to clarify, Yoongi says, “You wanted to discuss the deal.”
“Oh. Right. What did you mean by wanting my time in exchange for my freedom?”
“It’s simple. I want you to spend two weeks each month here.”
Yoongi’s words sink in as you look at the window behind him. Outside, the world is sinking into what you think might be night. The sky is swimming with stars and constellations, stuck in a perpetual twilight of sorts. You’re reminded that somehow, Yoongi is like the moon and the night itself, especially when you find his dark gaze on you as he waits for your response.
“Why?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m often very alone. It would be nice to have some company.”
“That’s it? You just want me to hang out in exchange for saving me?” He nods. “That seems too easy.”
His lips curve upward. “Maybe I’m very annoying.”
For some reason you think it might not be true. You think of all the things that you’ve heard about the gods. Yoongi tells you that everything you know about them is wrong, but you know that the gods of the dark are tricksters. They are experts in the art of luring mortals in, and you wonder if that’s what he’s doing now.
“Does it have to be consecutive weeks?” you ask, trying to bide time to collect your thoughts and work out his intentions. “Or can it be a collective?”
“Consecutive.”
“What… what happens when I go home? With my family.”
Yoongi’s face grows stormy. You shift in your seat. “You’re under my protection,” he says after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll bear a mark that protects you. No one will force their will upon you again.”
“Can you?”
He shakes his head, long hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. He looks haunting in the firelight, but beautiful. You avert your gaze, fixating on the books in the room instead. “You have my word, I will never control you. I promised you freedom, that includes me.”
“But I have to be here. I can’t escape from that. Is that freedom?”
“You made that decision of your own free will. It’s your words that bind you here, not mine. While you’re here, you are able to do whatever it is you desire. In fact, I encourage it.”
“Wording is really important to you, isn’t it?”
He chuckles and inclines his head, fingers tapping the arm of his chair. “It is. Consider the first day of your deal already spent. You slept most of it off while you healed.” Yoongi stands, drawing your attention to him. “Sleep more,” he insists gently. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you a tour.”
The thought of a tour - and seeing Yoongi for more days - thrills you. Taehyung appears at the doorway as Yoongi escorts you out. He wishes you goodnight and lets Taehyung take you back to your room, though you feel his gaze and presence as you leave.
It isn’t until you’re back in your room that you realize you never asked Yoongi how long your deal is supposed to last. It occurs to you that while he has given you a sort of freedom, perhaps he has taken something from you after all.
-
Tall trees surround you. Above them, you can make out a swirling sky of stars and planets and several moons, so bright that it turns the forest a shade of blue. The woods around you are familiar, and there’s a well-walked path just ahead of you that leads to the river by your home. You’ve walked among these trees and creatures hundreds of times, but never with a sky like this.
Crickets chirp as you walk through the woods now. Grass tickles your bare feet, the earth soft and damp beneath you. It smells like fresh rain, but there’s no flood or mud as you navigate by instinct.
It’s peaceful out here. How many times have you come here to escape your father’s rage? How many times have you sat, back pressed against a tree, watching the light fade from the world until it was too dark to see where you were going? You always managed to get home safely, even with the lack of light.
The river rushes a few yards ahead. You pick a spot to sit and watch, beneath the cover of leaves. The sound of running water and the smell of rain on the wind lulls you into a trance and you close your eyes, resting for a while.
Here is where you find peace. Where you dream.
Awareness creeps up on you and you open your eyes, looking upward as you sense someone approaching. Yoongi stands next to you, onyx eyes gazing at the river. He’s in black clothes like before, his hands tucked into his pockets. You smell clove and cinnamon, making you dizzy. Power radiates off of him but it feels warm and safe. Like the night air itself comes from his existence.
“Am I dreaming?” you ask him. He looks down at you, an obsidian strand of hair falling in his face. He nods, giving you a gentle smile. “This is often where I go to dream.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer you. He looks back to the rushing river, his face becoming unreadable. He looks like he’s somewhere far away, lost in his thoughts. Absently, he says, “Your dreams are my favorite.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are bright, full of life and color and sound. You dream the way people create art, the way people create worlds. It is rare to see such magnificence among the sleeping.”
“I just…” you shrug. “Think of places I would rather be.”
Yoongi looks at you then and his face is shadowed, full of thunder. “You’ll never be forced to live that life again.”
“Do you promise?”
He opens and closes his mouth, narrowing his eyes a little before shaking his head. You feel a smile tug at your mouth, endeared by his microexpressions. “Yes, little lamb. I promise.”
-
You wake with a start, sitting up in bed and looking around. The room spins as your brain tries to catch up with your body, your physical and mental awareness completely out of sync as you swivel your head, drinking in the unfamiliar room and the soft sheets that smell like clove and cinnamon.
For a moment, you forget where you are, and adrenaline surges through you. Your fingers twist in the sheets as you ground yourself, memories from the day before slotting into place. Letting out a long exhale, you relax, flopping backward in the opulent bed, your heart rate slowing down as your panic bleeds out of you.
You’re in Yoongi’s home. In a place that is somewhere in between - whatever that means. The god has told you on multiple occasions that you’re safe and have nothing to fear from him and for some reason…. You believe him. Maybe it’s naive, but you can’t erase the feeling that Yoongi is being honest with you, that he has good intentions.
Perhaps it’ll get you into trouble one day. For now, you cast off doubt and peel yourself out of bed, trailing to the windowed doors that lead to the balcony beyond. You try the handle and are delighted to find them unlocked. Slipping through the doors, you’re met with warm, balmy air. It smells like petrichor, the breeze kissing your skin gently.
Like before, the world seems wrapped in permanent twilight. There is no sun in the sky, but a vast stretch of swimming stars and the largest moon you’ve ever seen. In the distance, dark mountains loom over you, their peaks capped in snow and wreathed in mist.
Forest stretches out toward them in a vibrant shade of green. There’s a settee on the balcony along with a table and chairs. Leaning on the stone railing, you look down to see colorful gardens and a large pond full of vibrant fish.
All of the radiance makes you smile. You’ve never seen colors so rich, and you’re unable to recall if your world was this vibrant. The garden below is bursting with violet and cerulean, the flowers unfamiliar to you. Their fragrant smell wafts up to the balcony, a hint of sweetness in the air.
A roll of thunder catches your attention. You look to the east, noticing that one of the mountains in the distance is darker than the others. Lightning crackles in the sky around it and the mist is heavier there. You think the trees are darker too, though you can’t tell if they’re gray or if it’s the shade from the swollen thunderheads drifting over them.
Behind you, the door to the balcony opens and startles you. Whirling around, you find Taehyung leaning against the frame, mouth curved upwards in a sideways grin. “When you didn’t answer the door I got worried.”
“I thought I was safe here? What is there to be worried about?”
He shrugs. “Maybe you took a dive off of the balcony.”
“What is that place?” you point to the thundering, shrouded mountain. Taehyung looks where you point, his smile dropping as he stares at the looming peak. “By the look on your face, somewhere bad.”
“Bad is a relative term.”
You scrunch your nose. “You sound like Yoongi.”
“Already familiar, are we? Cute.” He pushes off the door frame and beckons you inside. “Ask Yoongi about it on your tour.”
“Are you not coming along?”
“I have things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Not give tours.”
If it weren’t for Taehyung’s playful tone and glint in his eye when he casts you a glance, you’d think you were bothering him. Instead of getting angry, he drapes himself on one of the couches by the fireplace, long legs dangling off the arm as he lounges.
Today, he’s in charcoal colored pants and a red, billowing shirt that shows off the smooth, tan skin of his chest. A dangling earring catches your attention as he leans his head back, silky hair shifting. If Yoongi is made of moonlight, you think that Taehyung might be made of sunlight: golden skin, warm energy.
“By all means,” you mutter. “Hang out.”
“This is my home first, human. I shall do as I please.”
You make a sound at the back of your throat and roll your eyes, walking toward a large, polished wardrobe made from dark wood. It smells like fresh cedar when you pull on the brass handle, opening the door to reveal tunics and dresses, all hung neatly.
Rich silks, velvets and cottons greet you. You run your hand over the materials, amazed at how soft they feel. They are far better quality than your mother ever had access to. Your heart squeezes when you think of her, and you shake your head a little as if to physically dispel thoughts of your family out of your mind.
Facing them seems like an impossible task. You know that you’ll have to eventually. Two weeks with Yoongi in this strange world seems like a long time, but you’re not sure if it’s nearly long enough to mentally prepare to go back and face them after what’s happened. Will they still be angry? What will they say? Will they have been worried about you all this time?
There’s no way to know the answer. So instead, you pretend none of that exists. For once, you have stumbled into a dream and adventure like you’ve always wanted, and you intend on playing the part.
An emerald shirt catches your eye. It’s made of a silky material, supple when you rub the sleeve between your fingers. It’s plain, save for the laced string at the throat to cinch and tie it off. You grab a pair of black, cotton pants as well, the fabric just as soft as the sheets in your bed.
With Taehyung humming on the couch, you let yourself into the bathroom to change. You appreciate that the floor is warm wherever you go barefoot, and you quickly slide out of your clothes from the previous day and into the new ones. The measurements are a little off, but more than manageable as you pull the tie closed at your throat. Glancing into the mirror, you can’t help but smile a little.
You look so different. The shirt belongs to someone adventurous, you think. Perhaps a pirate or a huntress riding atop her horse through the woods. You slide your fingers along the material, its softness inviting and magical.
Two weeks. You’ll be here for two weeks with Yoongi, a god who has been alive for hundreds of years, if your conversation from the night before was anything to go off of. It feels surreal and you’re a little nervous, but more than that, you’re excited.
Suddenly, the world is full of possibilities. No marriage to tie you down, no power held in your parents’ hands.
“Gods you’re slow to get dressed,” Taehyung announces when you enter the room. He sits up, appraising your outfit. “Green looks good on you.”
“How many are there?” he cocks his head at your question, peeling himself from the seat. “Gods and goddesses, I mean.”
“Pfft. Hundreds.”
“Hundreds?”
“Maybe thousands, I don’t really know. There’s basically an infinite amount of universes. All anyone mostly cares about are the Eternals, the gods who remain the same no matter what name or history mortals assign to them.”
“Eternals?”
“Mhmm.” Taehyung leads you into the hallway. His hands are tucked into his pockets as he strolls leisurely. You follow beside him eagerly, looking up as he seems thoughtful. “Gods are hard to define. They are great beings with massive power. Some gods do the same thing, some don’t. They come from the infinite amount of worlds to which they are native, and somehow make it into mortal history. But the Eternals have always been here, always known. They do not change.”
“Who are the Eternals?”
“Life, death, chaos, time, pathos, dream and fate.” He makes a face then. “Fate and chaos are hard. They work in direct opposition to one another. It drives time insane, naturally.”
Seven Eternals. It makes sense, from a logical standpoint. Every world must have life and death and the passing of time. Where there exists a living thing, there exists a vessel of emotion and dreams. In all worlds there is the potential for chaos disrupting fate.
“Yoongi is an Eternal?”
Taehyung glances sidelong at you, smug. “Yes, Yoongi is an Eternal.”
“Why do you look at me like that when I say his name?” Taehyung doesn’t answer, instead smirking as if he’s enjoying a private joke. Your fists close and open as you swallow down a demand to tell you what he finds so amusing. “Which one is he?”
“Have you no guesses?”
That makes you think. Recalling the night before, you remember the way Yoongi looks: dark eyes swimming with something magical, a soft and raspy voice, the way he appeared in your dreams.
Though your dreams are mesmerizing and far more colorful than anyone else I know. You recall what he said about your dreams, the way he leveled his gaze at you, full of meaning that you didn’t understand.
“Dreams,” you say, certain that you're right. “He’s the Eternal of Dreams?”
“He isn’t of dreams. He is Dream.”
You’re unable to clarify Taehyung’s emphasis on Yoongi being a deity of dreams as he opens the door to the same library as before. This time, he doesn’t knock. When you step inside, you realize it’s because the room is empty. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen, though pale light filters in through the windows. It’s still forever twilight outside, yet a little lighter. It feels like morning, even if it does not entirely appear to be morning.
Behind you, the door shuts. You turn to see Taehyung has left without another word, leaving you entirely alone in the captivating space.
Without hesitation, you walk to the nearest shelf housing rows and rows of books. The spines range from muted browns and neutrals to bright reds and rich blues. Velvet books, leather books, canvas, silk. There is no shortage of materials making up each one, letters painted, printed or stitched down the back of them to denote what they are.
Each one breathes a world of possibility as you drag your finger along the shape of them. You wonder how many worlds and histories are scribbled away in the pages of this room, the very idea of it overwhelming.
Trinkets and objects you’re unfamiliar with line the shelves as well. Your fingers trace their shape and you wonder what they are. One object in particular catches your eye in the corner of the room. It stands on three metal legs and has large, interlocking rings that spin lazily in some unknown pattern. The rings are hammered metal and appear to have markings engraved on them.
The device slowly spins of its own accord. Upon inspection, there seems to be nothing else responsible for its motion except magic or science that is beyond you. You can see that there are seven metal rings and different markings on each of them, but you cannot guess what the engravings read.
“It represents the balance of the Eternals. Taehyung mentioned you had a vague starting point as to what I am.”
Yoongi’s deep voice makes you leap and screech, spinning on your heels to face him. Your hand flies to your chest and you can feel your heartbeat rattling wildly. Yoongi stands a few feet away from you, hands linked behind his back and eyebrows raised at your reaction.
He’s dressed similar to the night before, though a little more casual. His black pants are tucked into knee high boots, and his black shirt is loose fitted with silver stitching around the collar. You notice that it’s in patterns of stars and moons, furthering your confirmation that Yoongi is associated with dreams in some manner.
Yoongi’s long hair is pulled half out of his face today, tied away in a bun. The rest of his hair brushes the tops of his shoulders as his inky eyes regard you patiently. His curiosity makes you feel warm all over and you drop your hands to your sides, fingers twitching.
“How so?” you ask. You turn back to the device. “What does it run on?”
“Our energy. Each ring represents a member of my family. The speed at which they turn represents the balance among us. When the speed is off, the balance is off.”
“What causes the balance to be off?”
Yoongi steps closer to you. You hold your breath as he does it, but you can feel his presence like a buzzing vibration at the back of your neck.
His voice is softer when he answers, “A number of things. Sometimes some of us aren’t always performing the way we should be. Other times, we’re overperforming. Or fighting, really, as siblings are wont to do.”
“I don’t know what that’s like.”
“You’re not missing much. Especially when your siblings are as ancient and never ending as you are.”
“How… old are you?”
You look at Yoongi to see he’s standing next to you now. He looks at you, face impassive as he lifts a shoulder. “How old is the earth? How old is existence? It’s hard to say.”
“Where do you come from?”
“Chaos was first. Life and Death were next, twins born of the sudden whims of Chaos. I was next, for Life often dreamed. Time was always there, though no one knows if Time or Chaos came first. Pathos and Fate came later.”
You nod, though you don’t fully understand the scope of how old and fathomless the existence of things like chaos and time and dreams are. It makes your head spin, trying to conceptualize the thing next to you who looks very much like an ordinary man being something so ancient and primordial that he precedes human existence entirely.
“You’re overwhelmed,” he notes, a bit of amusement in his voice. “I don’t blame you. The best way to understand it is that I am a living concept that can never be destroyed, so long as there exists something to dream about.”
Crossing his arms in front of him, Yoongi clasps his hands and gives you a slight smile. He has a pretty smile, you realize. Delicate and almost shy. It makes your heart flutter and you mentally chastise yourself for thinking that a being of eternal dreams can possibly be shy.
“How about a tour? Our deal is that you’ll spend two weeks a month here. I’d love for you to feel like this is a place you can be familiar with, if not something akin to a home.”
“Home?”
His smile grows. “If that word ever seems fitting, sure.”
Home. The word makes you think about what home means to you and suddenly you feel a pit form in the bottom of your stomach. Flashes of a flooded forest, lighting lancing across the sky, hands gripping you tight and shoving you under the water.
“Um,” you clear your throat. “So a tour.”
Yoongi’s eyes glitter as he grins and turns, using a hand to gesture to the wide library. “This is the main library, but we’ll end our tour here. Let’s go through the gardens first, it’s nice weather.”
Yoongi starts without you, leaving you to stand staring after him as he goes. His gait is smooth and confident. He presses on a pane of glass that you realize is a door. A breeze teases the loose pieces of his hair, carrying the familiar scent of clove and cinnamon toward you.
For a moment, you stare after him. Yoongi being a deity of dreams makes so much sense in this moment, stepping into the twilight, face tilted upward slightly as though he’s soaking up the sun. He looks radiant. Tranquil. When he turns to look at you expectantly, his rose pink mouth quirks sideways.
“Right,” you say, hurrying to follow him. “Outside is where we start.”
When you pass him, you get the sense that Yoongi wants to tease you further. Instead, he says nothing and leads you into the gardens. A cobblestone path leads from the door through wisteria trees, their amethyst leaves swooping down and filling the air with sweet fragrance.
Up above, the sky is a mix of blue and purple, thousands of stars twinkling. There is a stone bench near one of the windows of the library, but Yoongi leads you away from the palace and down the path under the trees. The air is crisp and pleasant, cooling your anxious, sweat-slick skin.
Yoongi links his hands behind his back. “This is the library garden,” he informs you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “It’s mostly wisteria trees, which are my favorite to walk through when I need to think.”
“They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Much different from the woods outside of your home.”
“You know the woods outside of my home?”
“You called me there, remember?” You blanch at the memory, but if he notices, Yoongi says nothing. “Besides, I’m familiar with the woods that surround your home. Your village pays homage to my brother.”
“Your brother?”
He hums. “Life. Perhaps they don’t know that it’s him they pray to, but they do.”
Taking a left, Yoongi leads you on a looping path through the massive wisteria trees. They’re larger than anything you’ve ever seen, their bows sweeping monoliths of purple, trunks thick as boulders. A strange creature sits on the branches of one of the trees, making you stop and stare.
A tiny, carnelian creature sits on a bough, bright against the lavender background of the leaves. It has four legs and scaled feet, sharp talons cutting into the bark as it keeps its balance in the tree. Small wings are folded on its back, bony limbs with paper-thin skin between them, a lighter red than the rest of its body. A long tail snakes around the branch, holding the creature in place as its long neck extends, head tilting to look at you curiously.
“Is that a dragon?” you whisper, staring at it.
You’ve only heard them described in stories, but you don’t really know what they look like. It has scales like a lizard and it blinks two large eyes at you, entirely black. There are small horns on its head, and a forked tongue snakes out as it tastes the air.
“She’s a fey dragon,” Yoongi hums, looking up at the creature with a smile. “And she’s not supposed to be in the trees here, are you?”
A puff of smoke curls from the dragon’s nose as it huffs, making you take a step backward. Yoongi lets out a deep laugh that makes a tingle rattle down your spine and your toes curl. The sound is like smoke and velvet, heady in the air.
“She won’t hurt you,” Yoongi assures, shaking his head to continue walking under the dragon’s branch. “She’s a pesky little thing, but she is incredibly sweet. Fey dragons are much smaller than their firedrake cousins and less dangerous than their basilisk relatives.”
With your eyes cast upward, you hurry after Yoongi, keeping your gaze on the large lizard as you run under the branch. Her dark eyes follow you, unblinking and fathomless. The hair on your arms stands up and you can’t help but feel that despite the dragon being small and what Yoongi calls harmless, it is incredibly intelligent.
“There are dragons here?”
“There is everything here.”
You frown, finally turning away from the dragon as you leave it behind. “That’s confusing. Everything as in…?”
“When you dream, you have limitless potential. You can go anywhere, be anything, see any creature. Dreams even invent things that do not exist in the natural world. Creatures, stories, songs, words, plants. The possibility for creation in a dream is limitless, and this place is the essence of dreams. It is me.”
“So you are this place and the place is you?”
He seems thoughtful before nodding. “More or less. This is a dream realm as much as it is a collection of ideas, thoughts and hopes. Everything that every living creature has ever dreamed about walks these lands.”
“Even nightmares?”
Yoongi pulls up short and whips his head at you. You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to meet his eyes under his severe expression. In the distance, you swear you hear thunder. An apology springs to your lips, but before you can give it, Yoongi nods sharply once and begins walking again.
“Nightmares too. Do not speak of nightmares here, lest they come searching.”
You think about Taehyung telling you that you were safe but being concerned when you didn’t answer the door earlier that morning. A chill seeps into your bones as you rejoin Yoongi on your walk, his pace not as relaxed now.
“They come searching?” you try, a little curious, a little afraid.
“Yes. They are different from dreams. Unpredictable in a way I admire and dislike.” He glances sidelong at you. “They have a mind of their own. You are safe with me always, but it’s best practice to not think of them while you’re here. This world has a way of manifesting.”
For a few moments, you walk in silence. You let your questions fall silent as you look around. The two of you exit the wisteria trees to see a large pond. A single, massive wisteria sits on its western edge with a bench underneath it.
The surface of the pond is dark and smooth, reflecting the swirling stars in the sky. Yoongi leads you around the mirror surface and points out the mountains in the distance that you could see from your windows.
“Mountains of Sleep,” he tells you. “It is where all beings who are ready for their eternal rest come to dream for the remainder of their existence. They are also called the Mountains of Divinity, for there are hundreds of divine immortals among their peaks.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Not all beings rest here. Some prefer their own planes and resting grounds. But this existed before those places, and has long been used for the tired and the weary who are ready to retire.”
“Are they dead?”
“No. The dead cannot come here.” He hesitates. “When they do, it is because they are not a dream.”
You get the sense that Yoongi is talking about nightmares again and you shiver as he takes you around the pond. “Don’t let anything in that body of water convince you to go swimming. They won’t intentionally hurt you but they don’t understand the concept of human life.”
“They?”
“They don’t have a name. They are water-folk who were dreamt up by someone once. I admire them and they’re beautiful and wicked smart, but they’re a bit cheeky.”
“I’m starting not to feel as safe as you said I was.”
Yoongi stops and frowns. He lifts a hand as though he’s about to touch your arm before he thinks better of it and drops it at his side. You realize you’re disappointed that he did before mentally kicking yourself, feeling a little ashamed to be so affected by a god. You’re sure Yoongi gets it often, but it makes you feel silly nonetheless.
“You are safe.” He lowers his head a little, catching your gaze. Though his eyes are midnight black, you swear you see the stars above reflected in their dark pools. “But there are rules everywhere. This place has them just the same as your home did. You were relatively safe there, but there were rules.”
“And then I broke them and Nathaniel tried to murder me.”
“Nathaniel was dealt with and will never touch you again.” Thunder rolls in the distance and your heart flutters at the vehemence with which Yoongi says this. “The misdeeds of your family cannot chase you here.”
You don’t press Yoongi on the matter. Instead, you let him proceed with the tour, keeping your questions to a minimum as you wonder what Yoongi meant by Nathaniel being dealt with. You recall the soft, susurrated voice against your ear when Yoongi found you. The gentle brush of something like a kiss to your neck. The rage and power as he stepped in front of you to face Nathaniel when the deal was done.
It does not require much to make an assumption about Yoongi’s meaning.
The yards of his palace are sprawling and full of color. Gardens with flowers he doesn’t know the name of but said a little girl had dreamed them and he liked them so he made more. Butterflies with colors you didn’t know existed flitting from plant to plant. Fruit orchards with the ripest, reddest apples you’ve ever seen.
And the palace. It is the only word you have for it. The building is several stories tall, hewn from dark stone with at least five different towers. Starlight glitters in the windows as Yoongi guides you up the stairs toward the massive double doors that lead to the main entrance of the castle. On the door handle are two wrought-iron griffons with proud faces.
Without a touch, the doors open on Yoongi’s arrival. You wonder if the building responds to his presence as the door swings open for the two of you. Inside, the foyer is as magnificent as the library, a lush purple carpet rolling over stone floors.
In the center of the room is a massive spiral staircase. Looking up, you see that it goes all the way up the floors of the palace, dizzying circles of floor after floor. Yoongi explains there are other ways to go all the way up to the top throughout the castle but this is the easiest way, though he assures you that by the third floor you’d be out of breath.
Each room Yoongi shows you is opulent and warm. Rich, deep wooden furniture, paintings with dark splashes of amethyst, scarlet and gold. Rooms for tea, rooms for painting, rooms for music, rooms for dancing. Yoongi has a room for everything, sometimes occupied by strange little creatures that hide when you walk in or curious things that lift their heads when they see him.
No one else besides Taehyung seems to be there, though. You come across felines, little balls of light that bounce around Yoongi excitedly and light him up like a burst of flame, a little furry thing that you think is a fox but in a shade of shocking sapphire, and a massive wolf with eyes like ice that blink apathetically at you as you walk by. But never once do you see another person. Even Taehyung seems to be amiss.
“Does no one else live here?” Yoongi takes you through another room empty of people and things. “It’s so empty.”
He takes his time to answer as you leave the room and move into the hallway. It’s hard to tell which way you’re going, but you think that you’re headed toward the library again. Your legs ache from going up and down the stairs on an endless tour of rooms, and you’re eager to be in the library once more.
“There used to be,” Yoongi says slowly. “But people don’t tend to do well in places that they don’t belong.”
“So you’re all alone here?”
His smile is sad. “I have Taehyung.” He pauses before he adds, “And now you.”
I’m often very alone. It would be nice to have some company. You think of Yoongi’s words from the night before and suddenly you’re filled with sadness. Sadness for this ancient being, who seems so gentle and quiet. Who lives alone in this giant castle with all of the world’s dreams around him and no one to share them with.
Swallowing thickly, you nod. “How do you know I belong?”
“Pardon?”
“Do I? Belong, I mean. You wouldn’t… have me here if I wouldn’t do well, right?”
“No one dreams the way you do.” He says this firmly. Confident. Fierce. “I believe there is nothing you wouldn’t be able to find here.”
“Do you always know what I dream about?”
“No. But you dream… loudly. Colorfully. Sometimes it’s hard to ignore. I don’t like to pry, though.”
“Can you see everyone’s dreams?”
“Mhmm. I even make some.”
This catches your attention and you reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him. He glances down where your fingers touch his skin, your fingers buzzing where you’re connected. You flush with warmth and drop your hand, clearing your throat at how forward grabbing him was.
Yoongi is smirking when you ask, “Can you show me?”
“One day, yes. For now, the end of the tour and lunch.”
At the mention of lunch, your stomach rumbles. His grin spreads into a full smile and Yoongi leads you back to the library. Again, the doors open without his touch and as you pass them, you study them for any sign of an auto-opening mechanism but find none.
Yoongi’s magic appears limitless. You remember the food disappearing from dinner, the swell of power as Yoongi agreed to save you, and his sudden appearance as you were drowning. You know nothing about the god of dreams or what he’s capable of, but you’re awed at how easy it comes to him.
“This is the main library.” Yoongi turns around to face you, sweeping his arms out on either side of him. “There are two others: one in my room and one located in the dream tower.”
“You didn’t show me the dream tower.”
“I’ll show you when you’re ready.”
Unsure what ready means to Yoongi, you look around the library. Same as the night before, the shelves are crammed full of books and scrolls, so much paper and ink that it makes you lightheaded with excitement. It still smells of lemon and wax, though as you pass Yoongi to go to a shelf, you’re overcome with clove and cinnamon again.
Trying to ignore the shiver that merely walking by Yoongi gives you, you brush the spines of books once again, feeling their potential under your fingertips.
“You always have access to this library. You can read what you like.”
A pang goes through you and you drop your hand. Without looking at him, you mumble, “Thank you, but I can’t read.”
No response comes. You stare unseeing at the books before taking a breath to turn your head and steal a glance at Yoongi. You expect some sort of amusement or perhaps pity, but his face is unreadable, jaw working.
“That’s okay,” he finally says. “We will teach you. After lunch we will make a schedule to help fill your time here. Reading and writing lessons will be a part of that.”
Your heartbeat quickens. “Do you mean that?”
“Do you want to learn?” You nod your head eagerly. He grins gently. “Then we will teach you.”
-
Yoongi’s eyes are dark as he presses forward. Your breath catches in your chest as you lay back, looking up at him with your lips parted, heart hammering in your chest. He settles his waist against you, the weight of him pressing you into your bed as you lay back.
He is so beautiful that it puts you in a daze, staring up into his face as he leans over you. His hair is pulled back, but a few dark strands hang loose. His mouth is stained red with wine, making you want to lean forward and taste his lips and feel their softness.
Tentatively, you reach a hand up and brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, tucking them behind his ear. You don’t stop touching him, though, hand cradling his flushed face. His eyes flutter shut and he leans into your palm as you cup his cheek, thumb sweeping back and forth.
“Is this what you dream of?” he whispers, eyes remaining closed. “Being under me, like this?”
Dreaming. You realize you’re dreaming. You jolt and suddenly, you’re alone.
-
“Your handwriting is terrible,” Taehyung admits, looming over your shoulder. You grip the quill tighter, nearly snapping it in two. “But you learn unbelievably fast. How many of these letters do you think you have consistently memorized?”
Taehyung is in charge of your writing lessons today and you already want to kill him. It’s been five days of your new residency in the House of Dreams, as Yoongi calls it, and you’ve quickly learned that Taehyung is equally charming and playful as he is outright vexing.
Instead of turning to give him a very harsh poke in the arm with your quill, you scan the shapes in front of you. There are twenty-six of them, all awkwardly slanted and misshapen where you’ve used too much ink or not enough. Using a quill and ink feels alien to your hand and your fingers struggle to remember the proper way to hold it as you draw your letters.
“I think most of them,” you answer slowly, mentally sounding out each word on the page in your head as you go. “But there are a few of them that confuse me. The lowercase ‘d’ and ‘b’ I find nearly impossible to recall and ‘v’ and ‘u’ are rather frustrating.”
“Whenever you see a ‘u’, think of it as having a scoop. Sc-uuup.” Taehyung points to a ‘u’ on the page and mimics the scooping motion. “Might be easier to associate the sound scoop with ‘u’ even though the word itself doesn’t have a ‘u’.”
The desperate look you give him makes him laugh as you struggle to imagine why a word with a ‘u’ sound doesn’t actually contain the letters. You’re saved from Taehyung’s maddening - but helpful - instruction as Yoongi walks into the library.
“You’d better not be laughing at her again.”
Taehyung steps away from you and bows his head toward Yoongi. “I’m laughing with her. We’re just sharing amusement over the hypocrisy of letters.”
“Yeah,” you deadpan. “It’s hilarious.”
Today, Yoongi is in a deep, amethyst colored shirt. It’s laced at the throat with the familiar moon and stars that he has stitched on much of his clothing, and his hair down and long, slicked back and tucked behind his ears. As always, he’s in dark pants and boots today, the sound of them clicking on the stone floor as he nudges Taehyung out of the way to peer over your shoulder.
You tense. Being around Yoongi for the last five days has been intoxicating. It is bad enough that you get distracted during your lessons by the way his voice rumbles when he speaks and the way he chews his lips when working on his own things while you study. It’s worse that now he invades your dreams, whispering in your ear and hands wandering over your curves, sinful mouth brushing over your skin and leaving you to jolt awake in bed covered in sweat.
The very idea that Yoongi knows what you're dreaming of drives you to the edge of insanity. He’d promised he preferred to avoid your dreams, but you wonder if he knows. Knows that you have developed an insatiable habit of fantasizing about his hands, or about the tone of his voice.
Gripping your quill tight, you hold your breath when he leans over you. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you feel the heat of him and smell him, cinnamon and clove making your eyes flutter. If you didn’t know he was the god of dreams, you’d mistake him for the god of lust, if that was a thing.
“Why aren’t you breathing?” You peer upward to see Yoongi looking down at you. If you tilted your head back just a fraction more, you’d be pressed against his chest. Even from upside down, his moon-pale face and cosmos eyes make you want to scream. “Are you alright?”
“Nervous that I’m not performing well.”
His face softens. “You’re a quick learner. Don’t worry about progress and pace.”
“But what if I lose it when I go h- back.”
Home. That’s what you were going to say. But the idea of home is terrifying. You don’t know what waits for you when you go back. You don’t know what splitting time between two worlds means. You don’t know what you’ll do when you have to spend two weeks there before coming back to Yoongi.
Five days in Yoongi’s realm has been enough to make you feel like this has always been your life. You fit into the daily routines of Yoongi and Taehyung better than you imagined, and though you still sometimes get lost in the House of Dreams, you discover that you’re adapting.
There’s always something new to discover, an adventure around the corner. You like learning your letters and the sounds that they make. You love studying the maps in the library and tracing the distances between countries you can’t name and have no idea where they are.
Most of all, you love exploring. Rooms upon rooms of objects both normal and magical. Creatures that roam freely around the palace - including a clever little fox that has taken interest in following you around as you take breaks from studying by walking around the grounds.
While Yoongi’s home doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, you’re more afraid to go back to your mother and father than you are to go near the pond at the edge of the wisteria garden.
So you avoid thinking of going back.
“You’ll practice while you’re there,” Yoongi says, as though it’s the easiest answer in the world. “You have to practice every day.”
“My father won’t- he doesn’t…” You shake your head, unable to get the words out. That your father would strike you to the ground if he found you with books again. “I can’t bring anything back with me.”
“Sure you can.” You glance at him to find his expression is firm. “I told you, you’re under my protection. Things will be very different for you when you go back.”
“How?”
“It’s… difficult to say.”
Yoongi offers nothing else. You become hyper aware of how close he’s standing to you again and you look down at your letter practicing. With a shaky hand, you dip the quill into the ink, lifting it from the inkwell and letting the excess drip before bringing it over to the paper.
When Yoongi makes no move to leave, you inhale deeply to steel your nerves and continue tracing. He’s content to watch you as you work. If he knows how distracted this makes you, he doesn’t let on. Perhaps he has no idea that as you scrawl a shaky letter ‘k’, it’s Yoongi who consumes your thoughts.
Even in your waking hours it seems you’re not rid of him.
Most of your study sessions are like this, Yoongi watching you so closely that it makes your quill bleed too much ink. He is a passive teacher, letting you come to him with questions instead of correcting you constantly like Taehyung does. Even now, when you hesitate on the next letter of the alphabet, Yoongi doesn’t offer his help. Lets you figure it out.
You dip the quill in ink and continue.
After you finish the last shaky letter, you set the quill down, flexing your fingers open and closed. Yoongi makes a satisfied noise and steps away. You turn to see him walking toward the table by the fireplace, which is where you have started to take all your meals. Already, there are platters of food and drinks. Taehyung sits in a chair, plucking a grape from a plate and popping it in his mouth.
“I didn’t invite you,” Yoongi grumbles as he takes a seat at the head of the table. You push yourself up from your chair, legs aching from sitting so long. “Who said you can eat my grapes?”
“Ugh, I’m tired of eating alone.”
“Let him stay, Yoongi.” The god looks at you with a glower, bottom lip jutted out slightly. It’s so cute that you can’t help but burst into laughter, hand flying to your mouth. “Sorry, I think you just pouted.”
“He did.” Taehyung grins and leans back in his chair. “He wants you to himself.”
Yoongi hisses Taehyung’s name, shutting down the teasing immediately. You glance at Yoongi shyly as you sit down but he doesn’t meet your eyes, choosing to laden his plate with food instead. You can’t imagine why Yoongi would want you to himself, especially when all you do is ply him with questions.
Still, a little bit of a thrill goes through you as you start loading your plate, your gaze drifting toward the deity again as he bites into a strawberry, the juice running down his chin. Your eyes track the movement as his tongue darts out, catching the drip before it escapes too far.
Yoongi’s mouth is hypnotizing and it takes you a moment too long to realize he’s watching you stare at him. Quickly, you grab a cup and bring water to your lips, gulping the cool water and glancing up at the ceiling, feeling embarrassment bloom like warm liquid through you.
When you put the cup down, you swear you see Yoongi smiling.
-
Hungry lips suck at the tender flesh of your neck. You gasp, feeling your toes curl in pleasure, head spinning. Yoongi’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin, the drag of his rough tongue soothing over the bites driving you mad. You let out a soft moan, eyes squeezing shut as you writhe under him.
Yoongi’s large hands pin yours above your head, your fingers tangling in the sheets as he continues to ravish your neck with his hot mouth, tongue and teeth. His hips roll over you and you whine, feeling his hard-on pressing against you.
Your parents would kill you if they knew you were here like this, trapped under a god of the dark as he sucks on your pulse point, mouth moving upward to nip your ear. Your chest is heaving and you can’t get enough breath, overwhelmed by the scent of cinnamon and clove, by the way his mouth pulls sounds from you so easily.
Yoongi tears his lips away and looks down at you, eyes so dark and blown out that you think he might devour you, swallow you whole in one bite -
“You’re dreaming of me again,” he whispers. “I don’t know if you mean to be dreaming of me, like this.”
You startle, realizing this isn’t real, and the illusion fades.
-
Twilight skies stretch above you. It’s warm outside, but the night air is cool against your skin, making you shiver as you sit down, folding your legs criss-cross.
“Are you cold?” Yoongi asks, sitting down on the soft grass next to you. You shake your head, eyes fixed on the low table in front of you that's filled with platters of meats, cheeses and crackers. You eye a glass bottle of red liquid that you think is wine, mouth watering. “Are you sure?”
“Promise, the wind feels nice.”
He looks doubtful as he sits down next to you, a healthy amount of space between you.
Tonight, Yoongi has insisted on a late night snack outside under the stars. He seems eager, verging on giddy as he glances up at the sky before reaching for the bottle of red liquid and popping the cork.
After nearly two weeks in the House of Dreams, you’ve learned that this world is forever twilight, lit up by dreams. Here, day and night don’t exist in their truest forms. There are always millions of people and creatures dreaming at every moment of existence, not limiting Yoongi’s world and power to times of day and night.
The twilight is beautiful. You’ve grown accustomed to the purple tint to the world, the way that it gets just the barest bit darker outside during certain periods, as though even in a world where night and day don’t exist, there are still two separate halves of time.
Yoongi passes you a glass. You bring it to your nose and sniff, delighted at the scent of cherries and something else. It’s certainly wine, though you wait for him to pour himself a glass to sip any.
Earrings dangle in Yoongi’s ears tonight. Each lobe has a small, thin chain with a moon charm on the end that’s studded with sapphires, catching the moonlight as he sets down the bottle and sits back. His hair is pulled half-up, half-down again, leaving his full face in view as he looks at you and gives you a gummy grin that scatters your thoughts.
“Chaos is moving through the sky tonight,” Yoongi informs you, glancing upward. “When she does, she’s beautiful to see. She doesn’t do it that often, but she’s passing us by on her way to do whatever it is she does somewhere. I wanted you to see.”
He holds out his drink and you grip yours tight, raising your glass to clink with his like you’ve seen people do at the inn in your village. He turns away from you, bringing his wine to his lips to sip. You follow suit, tentatively tilting your glass.
Sweet cherries bloom on your tongue and you hum in delight. It isn’t just cherries you taste, though. There’s a lush sweetness too, edged with spice, filling your mouth with warmth. You look at Yoongi as you sip and see him watching with a closed-lipped smile, eyes searching your face.
“You like it?”
You nod and set the glass down. “It’s delicious.”
“You like sweet things.”
“And you like salty.” He raises a brow in question. “You’re always going for the salted meats at dinner. And you have salted pork right there,” you point to the meat and cheeseboards. “Do gods get dehydrated?”
“We do not. I didn’t realize you were paying so much attention.” You shrug, picking up your wine to take small sips again. “Anything else you’ve noticed?”
Everything, you want to say and don’t. You’ve noticed so many things about Yoongi, all of them coming to mind at once. But you don’t want to reveal just how much you’ve watched him over the last two weeks, paying far more attention than is proper.
You could tell Yoongi how you’ve noticed that he wears seven necklaces exactly, each with a different symbol charm on them that you think corresponds to the seven Eternals. You could tell him that he has the habit of closing his eyes and tilting his face upward, like he’s absorbing moonlight. You know all of his favorite breakfast items, specifically crispy bacon and sugared strawberries.
And there are other things you could tell him, like in your dreams his lips are soft as sin, his voice low and sultry. You could admit that most nights you feel his grip on your waist and that when you study his hands during your lessons, you can’t help but already know the shape of them.
Perhaps two weeks back in your village is exactly what you need to get the ridiculous fantasy of this eternal being from your head. You don’t think you could bear the shame of him knowing exactly what living in the in-between realm has done for your imagination in a very unexpected way.
“You like bacon,” you offer as an answer. “And sugared strawberries. In the evening, whiskey is your favorite. It smells a little bit like honey, but still spicy. And you must work in the dream tower often at night, because the door to the tower smells like clove and cinnamon and you always smell that way.”
Yoongi’s brows shoot up. You hide your expression with your glass of wine, taking a long draught. It hums in your veins, warm and rushing like nothing you’ve ever felt before. When you lower the glass, Yoongi watches you with an intense expression. You meet his gaze, suddenly unable to look away.
The air feels charged as you stare. His eyes dip down to your mouth a single time, then back up to your eyes. The breeze moves strands of his hair and you smell the hint of clove followed by cinnamon, just as you always do when he’s near. Your heart starts to staccato as the silence presses on.
A little shriek cuts through the tension like a knife. You flinch and turn around, looking at a red blur of movement burst from the wisteria trees. Tiera lands with a squawk, the fey dragon huffing as grey smoke curls from her lungs. She ignores you entirely as she normally does and skips over to where Yoongi is sitting before she settles next to him, curling like a cat and laying on her tail.
Yoongi laughs. “Hello, Tiera.” The dragon chuffs and lets out another puff of smoke. “Are you not going to say hello to our friend?”
When the dragon pays no attention to you, you roll your eyes. “She hates me.”
“Dragons are capricious. She’s been with me for over a hundred years.”
“Not very mature then, is she?”
He chuckles again as you pluck cheese from the platter and pop it into your mouth. You’re delighted to find it’s soft and garlicky with a hint of rosemary as well. “She is still a child in dragon years.”
“And you let her be a glutton.”
“You could be too.” Your chewing slows and you swallow the cheese hard. You wait to see if he’s teasing you, but Yoongi watches you with a placid expression. “Dreams and desires are intertwined, you know. Desires come from dreams. It is in my nature to be indulgent.”
“I’ve never really been indulgent in my life.”
“Do you want to be?”
“What?”
His mouth twitches. “Indulgent.”
“I think this is indulgent,” you gesture to the food. “And you’re teaching me to read and write. That is more indulgence than I could ever dream of.”
He hums and it sounds like disapproval. “I think your dreams are far more indulgent than that.”
He knows. You think he’s going to say something, to ask about the way you dream of him. Instead, he says, “When you return, we’ll work on your indulgence. There is no shame in wanting things, you know?”
“I don’t know. How could I?”
Light flashes above your head. You break eye contact with him to look up and gasp. The sky is full of shooting stars, hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The world lights up as you see rainbows streaking across the sky, bursts of colors and explosions of brilliance shooting through the sky.
Your mouth hangs open as you watch, mystified into silence. You’re sure this is what Yoongi meant when he said Chaos was passing by, for the sky becomes a cacophony of color and stars and light. You blink your eyes, stunned by the display. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, your heart hammering with excitement as you watch it, legs crossed, head tilted up.
The stars begin to slow and there are less bursts of color, until finally, there is just a shimmering wake of stardust and pink simmering in the sky. You look at Yoongi, utterly speechless, to find him looking at you. His eyes reflect the night sky, full of constellations and stardust, glittering in the dark depths of his irises.
Yoongi’s eyes are as wonderful as the display above, but you don’t say that.
“That was beautiful,” you breathe. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
His eyes don’t leave you when he hums softly in agreement. “It was.”
Tiera shuffles next to Yoongi, drawing your attention. She snakes her long neck out, tongue tasting the air as she eyes the meat on the table. Yoongi hisses at her and taps her nose in chastisement, earning an angry croak as the dragon shuffles back to her napping position.
The rest of your evening is spent snacking in companionable silence. Yoongi doesn’t talk much unless he’s answering your hundreds of questions, but tonight, you have none. You’re comfortable to just look at the world around you, the wisteria branches dancing in the breeze.
In the distance, you hear thunder. Your eyes follow the sound to the same dark peak with lightning crackling through the mist. You’ve yet to ask Yoongi about that peak in particular, but you think you know what looms there. You remember Yoongi talking about how there are nightmares in this realm too, and you’re not eager to ask what that thunderous mountain holds.
Yoongi doesn’t divulge, either. He watches you as you regard the peak and says nothing. Perhaps even the Eternal of dreams is hesitant to speak of that place, which is a good enough reason for you not to press him further on it.
When your stomach is full and you’ve had another glass of wine, you lay back in the grass. Your limbs feel heavy with drink and your world is tilted on a slow-rotating axis. The buzz in your veins feels pleasant, though your thoughts are a little sticky like honey and they run together, untamed.
Careful to keep his distance, Yoongi lays back in the grass with you. His face looks up at the sky, but you look at him. His features are so delicate and soft, nose and cheeks so round. His face don’t make sense in your head, so severe and terrifying yet gentle and innocent at the same time.
“You’re staring,” he says eventually.
“I’m indulging,” you tease back, loosened up by wine. “You said I can indulge, so let me stare.”
“What is there to indulge in?”
“Your… earrings.”
That makes him look at you, a brow quirked. “My earrings.”
“Yes. Very shiny. Very dangly.”
“Shiny and dangly?”
“Is there an echo out here?” you demand, frowning at him. “Yes, I am indulging in your jewelry!”
“Would you like some earrings?”
“My ears aren’t pierced.”
“Well then we’ll pierce them.”
“Well,” you grump. “Don’t you have the answer for everything?”
He smiles then, that rare gummy smile that makes you shut right up. “I told you. I’m indulgent. Anything you want, all you need is to ask.”
Rolling your eyes, you bite your lip to hide your smile at his words. It is insane to you that this ancient being is laying in the grass next to you telling you to only ask what you want. You don’t know what you want, but you do know that this feels like a dream. That you’re not really here, and that you’re going to wake up tomorrow and be in your bed at home.
Dread fills you at the thought of going back to your parents. In a way, you want to see them. They’re your parents and there is… unfamiliarity without the sound of your mothers needle stitching through cloth. You could do without your father entirely. The rage inside of you when you picture his face is difficult to quell and is often followed by terror.
Yoongi has told you that you will be safe when you return. You believe him. There is no reason not to. But more than anything, you’re terrified about what comes next. Living between two worlds is something you remember dreaming about that one day in the forest, looking at the way the world was reflected back on the mirror-calm surface of the water.
Now that you have access to two worlds, you don’t know what to do with the other that has brought you nothing but suffering. And yet, you still want to see what is there. You’re not ready to leave it entirely without knowing.
“Are you afraid to go back?”
Yoongi’s question is soft. You don’t hesitate to answer, “Yes.”
“You won’t be alone. All you have to do is dream of me, and I will come.”
You hesitate then ask, “Do you know any time someone dreams of you?”
“It’s like hearing someone call my name, but I never answer. My business is in creating dreams, not invading them. People like you are able to spin up dreams on your own without my assistance. I help those who cannot.”
“That sounds like a lovely job.”
He hums. “It’s not without its stresses. I talk a lot about the nature of dreams, but there is more to me and to my job than that. Perhaps we will leave that for your next visit, yes?”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Come on,” Yoongi sighs, heaving himself upward. “It is late and in the morning, you must return.”
-
“Touch me,” you beg him, straddling Yoongi’s lap. His head rests against the back of the couch and he looks up at you as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s softer than you imagined, sliding like silk between your fingers. “You told me to ask for what I wanted. Touch me.”
“Anything,” Yoongi agrees. His hands skim up your thighs, warm and rough. He squeezes your flesh, making you moan as his hands continue their worship. Yoongi grips your hips tightly, kneading your flesh as he pulls you closer to him. “Anything. Everything. For you.”
-
When you wake up, you’re confused. The roof above your head is wood and thatch. The mattress beneath you is thin and lumpy, sweat sticking the sheets to your legs. Rolling over, your vision blurs until it comes into focus once more, revealing a tiny room with just a bed, a wardrobe and a closed door.
Your room. Well, your room in your parents’ house, you realize with a panic.
You shoot up in bed as terror claws at you. Did you dream it all? Was it not real? Nothing in your room has changed and the windows are open to the cool air. Grey clouds drift in the sky and you can smell the petrichor of oncoming rain in the distance.
Rushing to your bedroom door, you rip it open, your heart threatening to burst with how hard it’s beating. You don’t know what you’re looking for or what you expect to find, but the idea that you have just woken up from the most vivid, wonderful dream is so maddening that you need anything to tell you it was real. That it wasn’t in your head.
Your mother is sitting at the kitchen table stitching. She looks up when she hears you. She looks different, leaner and narrower than you ever remember, her greasy hair tied low at her neck. Her hands pause their stitching as she stares at you, stricken.
“What day is it?” you ask her. The day you had been attacked had been a seventh day. You remember that clearly. “Tell me what day it is!”
Instead, your mother screams in sheer terror.
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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (The Epilogue)
Summary | A final visit to our favourite family.
Word Count | 1.6K
Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food, allusions to smut, brief talk of difficult pregnancy, family dynamics, lots of fluff & a little surprise for you in this.
Authors Note | Well, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but we made it! Trial & Error Season 2 is complete, which marks the end of the line for my favourite threesome and their family. I firstly wanted to say thank you to each & every one of you for continuing to support this story and me. I never dreamt that you would love these three as much as I love them, and I will always be eternally grateful to this story for helping me through some tough times this year. I hope you love this ending as much as I do, and if you, I'd love to hear from you. Please always feel like you can scream at me in my inbox, and reblogs & comments also really help. This isn't it from our fabulous threesome, I have one-shots and ideas to bring to life in the future, but for now, it's adios to Joel, Pretty Girl & Tommy. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow@thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.
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The sun is warm but there is a slight breeze that crosses your skin, moves the long grass on the ground and rustles the trees. The summer has been hot, but it’s moving into time of year where it cools a little, isn’t so stifling that it makes you want to tear your skin off or spend all your time in an ice bath.
You smile, watching not one, but two young children, just after their second birthday’s, sit in the grass and play together. Twins. Two baby girls. Your heart is full. Your soul is full. Your family is complete in a way you never thought it would be. Sitting on the porch, mug of coffee in hand, you can see the broad expanse of a man walking towards you. The sun is blocking his features from view, framing him perfectly in light. You’d know that outline anywhere. Joel.
“How are my girls?” He smiles, bending down and placing one of his palms on the back of Ava’s head, the other hand holding one of the toys up for Addie to take hold of in her little hand.
He stands again, walking up onto the porch to where you’re sat. He dips to kiss your forehead, then, when you tilt your head to him, he presses a kiss to your lips too, “And how is my pretty girl?”
“I’m good,” You smile, snaking your hand around the back of his neck to pull him into another kiss, “Worked hard?” You ask once you’ve pulled away, letting him sit next to you on the porch bench.
“Can you not tell?” He chuckles, pulling the rag from his pocket to wipe his brow of sweat.
You put a palm on his thigh, looking back out onto the land you now call home. It’s vast, fields upon fields of open land. You can see the other house in the distance, the one Tommy and Joshua call home, the one that you spend half of your time in. It’s a pleasant walk between them, one you’ll take tomorrow morning, twins in arm. A ranch. Land bought when you’d found out you were pregnant again, this time with two babies, not one. It's further outside of the city, which you love. Peace and quiet and a wonderful place to raise your children. Joel and Tommy had worked hard throughout the nine months you’d carried Ava and Addie, taking contracting jobs wherever they could find them, squirrelling away enough money to build the life you have now. You’d offered the inheritance money from your parents who had passed away just before you’d met Tommy, which had built the two houses you all called home. Joel has insisted on sheep for the ranch, whilst Tommy had wanted cattle, so they’d compromised and gone with both.
You hadn’t thought that being the wife of two ranchers would have been something you’d enjoy, but you’d proved yourself wrong. You could take Joshua to school each morning and pick him up each afternoon, you could spend as much time as you wanted with your baby girls, you’d learnt to bake properly, and cook meals for everyone each evening. You would all sit together, eating and drinking into the evening, until you fell into one bed or the other, curled up next to Tommy or Joel, and sometimes even both of them, until you fell asleep and started all over again the next morning. It was the life you loved, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.
You can see Tommy walking from the other house, Joshua’s hand clutched in his own. He’d taken him out today, let him ride with him on his horse, mostly in an effort to tire him out because at six years old, he was starting to run rings around everyone with his energy.
You watch as they come into view, Joshua dropping Tommy’s hand when he recognises his baby sisters. He’s always been so gentle with them. He kneels down on the blanket with them, picking up some of the toys in his hands to start playing with them. He hands Ava a small wooden car, and Addie gets one that is slightly bigger that she can’t quite hold properly. He tries to get them to engage in a race but it’s relatively futile, they just giggle at him and wave their arms around.
You chuckle to yourself as Tommy heads up onto the porch too, he bends to give you a kiss similar to the way Joel had, but leans against the post that connects the porch to the roof that covers it, taking out his own rag to wipe his hands with. You’re about to open your mouth to ask if anyone is hungry, when the front door is ripped open and the newest addition to your family comes bounding out.
“Didn’t keel over and die today then, old man.”
You bite back a chuckle, as does Tommy, but Joel doesn’t seem to find it so funny.
“What have I told you about bein’ rude, Ellie?”
“I wasn’t being rude,” She shrugs, “I was just being observant.”
You think you hear him mutter something about her being a little shit under his breath, which of course is no better than her previous comment, but you let it lie, “Anyone hungry?” You ask.
Everyone agrees, so you push yourself up and head down the steps to pick up Addie. Joel follows behind, taking Ava in his arms, whilst holding his hand out for Joshua to take, walking everyone into Joel’s home, where the pot roast has been cooking for most of the day.
Ellie hadn’t really been planned. Once the twins had been born, you’d thought that was it. It had been a hard pregnancy, you’d struggled with sickness at first, and then at the sheer amount of extra weight you’d been carrying around. You’d swollen in places you didn’t even know you had, and spent that last month being as still as possible. With the way your relationship had changed, you’d agreed early on that the twins would be as much Joel’s children as they were Tommy’s, but whenever Joel watched you walk away to spend time with his brother, which he didn’t resent in any way, and you took the twins with you, that big ranch house felt awful lonely to him, with Sarah still being away at college.
He’d shocked you and Tommy when he’d sat you both down and mentioned adoption. Giving a home to someone who needed it. It had more rooms than he knew what to do with, space enough for another child. You don’t think you could have picked someone more perfect for him than Ellie. In some ways, she was the complete opposite of Sarah, but in others, they were very similar. She wasn’t ever going to be a replacement, Sarah still visited often, was still a huge part of everyone’s lives, but she kept him company in those lonely nights, made him laugh, kept him on his toes, and you loved her just as much as if she were your own. She was a love all of Joel's own.
Everyone takes their seat at the table, helps themselves to as much food as they want. Between mouthfuls of your own food, you help Addie eat, with Joel doing the same with Ava. Tommy is helping Joshua, who still doesn’t quite have the hang of how to properly cut things with his knife and fork, and Ellie is talking, mainly at Joel, about what she’d been doing that day. Its domesticity at its best. You and the two men you love with every fibre of your being, your children who you would lay down your life for, including Ellie. Everything you always wanted, all at the same time, no compromises.
You sit around the table for most of the evening. Ellie helps you put the twins to sleep upstairs when they start dropping off. She knows the dynamic of the family, you’d sat her down one day when Joel and Tommy were out working, fumbling over the words of how to explain exactly how things worked.
“So, they both love you, and you both love them?” She’d asked, mixing the batter for the cake you were making together, “Sounds cool,” She’s shrugged, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “Just so long as I don’t ever have to hear what you and my old man get up to.”
You’d smiled, given her a hug, and promised to keep it down with Joel whenever you were there. It proved to be difficult, that man knowing how to make you cry out and scream whenever he got his hands on you.
Once Joshua has settled himself on the couch, resting quietly with the TV on in the background, and Ellie has gone to her room to read or whatever else it is she does up there, you reach next to you and take hold of Tommy’s hand. He clutches it right back, with Joel’s arm resting across your shoulders. You look up at Joel, who is smiling softly, with that glint in his eyes that tells you he’s dying to take you upstairs.
You look Tommy directly in the eye, “Together?” You ask, squeezing his hand.
“Together.”
And that’s how it is. That’s how it will always be. Some nights spent alone with your men, others spent sandwiched right between them as they take turns making you feel good, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you until you don’t know who you are or what day of the week it is. And then being able to snuggle into one of them, tonight you know it will be Joel, who will drape his arm over your waist and press his front as close to your back as is humanely possible, with Tommy clutching your hands from the front. Your two men, their girl, and the life you’d risked almost everything to have.
THE END.
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