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Pay Attention

Summary:

They had a deal.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

He digs the holes. He cuts the tarps and ropes. He uses the power tools. She picks. She lures. She kills. He cleans. That’s the deal. That’s always been the deal. She sends him the newest measurements for the hole. The measurements for the supplies he needs. Something whispers in the back of his head to pay attention.

She cooked his favorite meal tonight. A simple meal. Steak and potatoes. A nice glass of wine. She’s wearing that dress he likes, the one he bought for their anniversary.

Pay attention.

She’s twirling her steak knife across the tablecloth, watching him with a smile. Lips painted a soft pink.

She hasn’t touched her food.

Pay attention.
Pay attention.
Pay attention.

He takes a bite and can’t swallow. Mouth dry. Goes to take a drink and he can barely lift his arm. He knocks over the glass. Spilling wine across the tablecloth. He’ll have to clean that later.

His vision darkens. The world tilts. No. He tilts. Hits the floor as she stands and approaches. Smile and steak knife still in place.

Shit.

Chapter 2

Summary:

This whole fic is an experiment. Let’s see what happens.

Chapter Text

That was a close one.

Just another test. His little wife likes to play her games. There was the week he wasn’t paying attention and she injected his chicken with…well…whatever the hell she used and he woke up three states over without a dime to his name and a handwritten note tucked into his pocket telling him he had 48 hours to get home.

She was thoughtful enough to spray the note with her perfume at least.

Then, there was the time she left a body for him to pick up and dispose of inside of a funeral home. Thankfully everything he needed was already there. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t certain he took care of the right body considering the massive funeral taking place while he worked.

The missus can never find out about that one.

He knows she plays her games to keep him sharp and in tip-top shape. She says he never pays attention to his surroundings.

He supposes that’s why he currently finds himself naked and tied to a massive oak tree in the middle of nowhere with a steak knife planted at his feet. So that was what the rope was for. Wonder what the tarp was for?

He wasn’t paying attention at dinner, distracted as he was by his alarmingly beautiful, vicious, little wife of his.

He truly hopes she remembers to soak the tablecloth or it’ll stain.

Doubtful.

Chapter 3

Summary:

I’ve been writing this in my notes app on my breaks. I have no idea where this is going but I’m having fun.

Chapter Text

She could have at least warned him about the wolf in these woods. It took him a minute but he certainly started paying attention when he heard branches snap nearby.

Bless her adorable little murderous heart that she’s not all that great at tying knots.

And thank you, Boy Scouts for not being a total waste of a awkward youth.

Now he’s running naked with a flimsy steak knife while a beast howls somewhere behind him.

This reminds him of the first time they ever met. He smiles at the memory, suddenly calm, knowing that she must have been thinking about the same memories as she tied his unconscious body to that tree.

He was camping in a state park. Not the one he’s currently running through. She would never make it that easy for him. So he must be in a different state. Based on the foliage, he thinks she placed him somewhere up north.

He’ll have to remember the nearby towns and start looking at houses. She must be ready to move again.

He was camping. She was hunting. She looked so sweet and lost with all of her beat-up hiking gear. All part of the ruse, he would later learn. He had been watching her. There was something wild about her. Feral. Something pushing beneath her skin. Pulsing. Waiting to be unleashed.

He had never seen anything so beautiful.

He was starting to run out of breath.

Lost in his musings he hadn’t been paying attention and now he really was turned around.

Deep breaths. Think. Listen. Remember everything she said.

There’s a fire crackling nearby. That means campers. That means clothes, food, and shelter.

He looks at the steak knife. Smiles. She left him a weapon. That means she wants him to use it.

She’s here. She’s watching. She wants to be entertained. Just like that first night together.

He certainly doesn’t have the flair for killing like she does. Doesn’t really enjoy it that much. But if it’s for her…..

He’ll love every second of it.

There was never a wolf chasing him.

He just wasn’t paying attention.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Oh, Ben.

Chapter Text

He stops when he sees the light from the small fire. He takes a deep breath. She’s not going catch him off guard this time.

She will.

She’s watching. She’s never watched him before. This must be one of her games. A test. To see how much he’s learned since that fateful first meeting. He won’t let her down. She constantly talking about how little he pays attention to his surroundings but he’s gonna focus.

He can do this.

He runs his hand through his hair. Why is fixing his hair? He’s going to kill someone. He doesn’t think they’re going to care about his hair. Plus, he’s naked. They’ll probably be distracted by that. Fuck. Why did she have to take his clothes.

He inches closer to the campsite to stake it out. One tent. Small. One fire. A man. Around the same weight and size as himself and….

How the fuck did she beat him here?

His wife. The love of his life. However long she allows that to be.

She’s with the man. His hand is on her shoulder. Her bare shoulder. He squints. He doesn’t like that. She gesturing wildly and she looks cute as a button. Little hiking shorts and a sports bra. Worn hiking boots with…mismatched socks. He squints again.

That little devil. She’s fucking with him. He matched all of her socks perfectly and put them away himself. She mismatched them on purpose. How’s that for paying attention.

He can’t hear what they’re talking about but she looks upset. He doesn’t know what to do now. Wait. Why is she making that up and down motion with her hand. That’s vulgar. Now the stranger has BOTH hands on her bare shoulders. Absolutely not.

That’s his wife.

He marches out into the clearing brandishing his steak knife and she looks around the strangers shoulder and he see’s the glint of the fire reflected within her eyes as her eyes widen in surprise.

He really should take that as a sign.

“That’s him!” She says as she grabs the strangers arm in fear. “That’s the man who tried to kill me!”

Wait. What.

He stops. Naked. Steak knife raised in mid swing and turns astonished eyes towards his wife.

He looks down. She’s covered in smudges of dirt. Her hair in disarray. The rope used to tie him up lays at her feet and she’s crying and shaking and holding on to the stranger for dear life as she points a single finger at her husband.

She’s so dramatic.

Wait.

The vulgar up and down motion. Shit. Wasn’t vulgar. He looks at his knife. Shit. It was a stabbing motion. Shit. Shit. Shit. The (fully clothed) stranger turns and glares at him and pulls out a hunting knife. Shit.

He really, really, really needs to start paying attention.

He lowers his steak knife. The man takes a step towards him. Then another.

The stranger has his back fully turned away from his wife.

His wife who is now fully grinning. Dimples on display as she waves to her husband and mouths, “better run”, as she wiggles her fingers.

Son of a bitch.

Chapter 5

Summary:

Second half of the chapter is kind of graphic. So proceed with caution. There’s a corpse and rough sex next to a corpse. Blood. And a description of stabbing.

Not sure we’re I’ll go after this but I do want to go back and tell about the night they met. And maybe do an epilogue of some kind.

Chapter Text

There was the time she slipped him a viagra and half of a sleeping pill and then trapped him in a malfunctioning elevator. He had to explain himself to several firemen who wouldn’t meet his eyes. She said it was to teach him how to talk himself out of tricky situations.

The four hours of sex afterwards was just a plus.

There was the time she convinced his parents that they had actually met overseas in Paris while on a business trip.

That’s how she got a two week trip to Paris out of him after only knowing him for three months. They had to go take pictures to be able to show his pushy mother. He thought that one had been pretty clever.

There was the time she gave him a camera and twenty bucks, then shoved him out the door with an itinerary of places and things she wanted photos of. The rules were that he had to hitchhike the entire way there and back and could only use the money he had or worked for while he was gone. The list included items such as:

•The dead carcass of a wild animal. It could not be roadkill. Make it something neat looking.
•A flower she had never seen before.
•Six up close photos of sleeping truckers. No zoomed in shots allowed.
•Him. Drinking a unicorn Frappuccino with a smile on his face.
•The underside of every table he eats at.
•A photo of her latest victim. (This one took him a while, considering he had to figure out to follow her without getting caught. There was much trial and error.)

Then there were the fires. He will never figure out how she managed to burn down four different fire stations in a single night. All within minutes of each other and plant evidence that he was the one who did it.

Luckily she was feeling sweet on him and made sure she did it while he was out of the country on business and he had a solid alibi.

She once blindfolded him while she hid different weapons around the estate and made him walk around and identify them by touch. He wasn’t very good at it. He didn’t pay attention during any prior weapons demonstrations. He still has scars on his hand from grabbing the wrong end of a sword.

He still doesn’t know why she has a sword.

He still finds small weapons hidden around the house. Small blades. Guns. He once found a throwing star. He bought her a weapons chest and organized them all for her.

She locked him out of the house yelling at him about not disrupting her system.

He woke up the next morning on a ship headed for Thailand with a solid brick of coke in his bag under his bunk and a US Marshal breathing down his neck.

He never touched her weapons after that except to clean them.

He takes everything she throws at him. Everything. He loves her. Since that first night. Since he saw the moonlight reflect off of her blade as she carved into those hikers. She spun magic that night.

Now he finds himself naked and straddling the torso of a stranger while he drags a steak knife in and out of his chest. The serrated blade keeps catching as it’s being pulled out. It makes a terribly wet sound.

A hand touches his shoulder and he reaches up and grabs her by the throat. Yanks her to the ground with a growl. He's covered in blood and it’s probably bad form to have an erection while next to a dying man but there’s no one here to judge him.

She takes the knife from his hand as he squeezes her throat and plants it in the stomach of the stranger who is taking his last wheezing breath.

She wipes the wetness from his eyes and then grabs him by the cock and whispers how proud she is of him and how well he did. He pulls her to him by the throat and kisses her to shut her up.

He pulls her cute little shorts down to her knees and flips her over. Grabs her at the creases of her thighs and pulls her ass in the air. He doesn’t bother touching her. He knows she’s already dripping. She likes it when it hurts. He thrusts in to the hilt in one push and she lets out a choked little moan. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her back to his chest as he plunges in and out of her wet heat. She sobs out her pleasure as he grunts in her ear and takes what he wants. His hand comes around to her clit and his fingers move in rough circles. She comes with a silent scream. He pushes her into the dirt and falls over her, his hips erratic and he pumps into her once, twice, and comes with a low snarl.

He lays there, on top of her.

She turns her head and kisses his cheek.

“I brought the tarp. And the rope. You didn’t cut it too badly so you can reuse it.”

“Did you bring me a change of clothes, by chance?”

“I left them by the tree. It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention.”

Notes:

Yell at me on Twitter @EmilyFiction