#I wrote this in bits and pieces over a few days so I'm sorry if theres inconsistencies
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HOMECOMING
PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader
SYNOPSIS: After a long day of patrol, Joel comes home later than he said he would be back. You are just happy to welcome him back into your arms.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Suggestive content - 18+. Established relationship. Soft & affectionate Joel Miller. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his late 50s, reader is 25+). Mentions of early pregnancy. Cute stuff. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.
WC: 1.8k
A/N: Hey there, been a while. In case y'all forgot, yes I do still write LMAO. This is a little something that I wrote miraculously on my free time, and it is my first Joel Miller piece. I'm also slowly getting back into writing so pls be nice! I did originally write this with the new Pedro Pascal picture as Joel in mind, but I'm a gamer Joel type of girl at heart so that's what I went with. Hopefully, it is enjoyable for those who choose to read it. Any likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
Night fell over Jackson, soothing and quiet as it usually was. You’d think after some time, you’d get used to the stillness that often consoled others in a world full of unsettling clicks and gunfire, but you found yourself troubled with the calmness that followed once the sun went down. The change of the seasons propelled a temperature shift outside; bitter winter exchanged for the rebirth of spring, which hopefully meant the sun would stay in the sky just a little bit longer.
Your face nuzzled into the pillow beneath you, the material not yours to claim, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. Digging your nose further into the bedding, you subconsciously chased the faint scent of pinewood and gunpowder, one of the few things that eased your anxiety. It was a smell you got used to recognizing over the past few years, not that you’ve been keeping count.
Despite the warmth the sheets provided you as you rested on the left side of the bed, your body felt cold, missing a familiar set of strong arms and a welcoming chest pressing up against you. He had told you before he left for patrol that he’d be back before sundown, that was the plan anyway. But you knew better than anyone that stepping outside the protective gates of Jackson always left room for the unpredictable.
In the haze of your dreams, you faintly heard the click of the front door opening and closing, the floorboards of the stairs creaking with the ghost of muted footsteps. You stirred in bed, ears trained to pinpoint the noise, yet too stubborn to wake up entirely. A breeze entered the bedroom before you sensed something else sharing the space.
That’s when you felt the phantom touch of plush lips skimming along your hairline. If you weren’t awake then, you certainly were now.
“Joel?” A call of his name equivalent to a whimper at the sudden contact you craved. You caught the slight intake of breath and the exhale that followed.
“It’s me darlin’. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Joel spoke quietly, the peaceful baritone of his voice awakening you fully. As you sighed, you met his tired gaze with your own, bruised knuckles raising to brush your cheekbone affectionately.
“Things went okay on the patrol?” You questioned him, pleased that he was here with you in one piece rather than focusing on the fact that he came later than you’d like.
“Yeah, had to check something out with Tommy to be sure before coming back. I’m sorry honey, didn't want to make you stay up for me.”
Even if it was unintended, Joel felt guilty whenever he didn’t stick to his word. He was not much of a virtuous man, lived a large part of the past two-plus decades giving less of a shit about honesty and ethics. But when it came to you, it killed him when he couldn’t follow through on his promises, even if things weren’t within his control. The last thing Joel wanted was to upset you or make you worry, but no matter how many times he reassured you of his return, you still tried your hardest to wait for him to come back home, back to you.
“It’s okay, I’m just happy you’re here,” you blinked slowly as his voice filtered through the lagged mess of your head. Leaning your face towards his hand, you kissed the inside of his palm. “Go freshen up and come to bed; I’m cold.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled with a smile at your forgiveness, parting from you for a second and heading to the bathroom, not planning to make you wait any longer.
You watched his silhouette from where you lay on the bed, fluttering your eyes closed at the sound of running water. When the door opened again, Joel’s broad figure returned wearing a worn-down flannel and some fleece pants he had snagged long ago.
“Scoot,” he jutted his chin to gesture to the right side of the mattress, your side, suggesting to reclaim his on the left. Shifting to the right, you let him slip into the bed feet first, hauling the sheets to cover the both of you. A bulky arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you close to him, your body molding to his like a missing puzzle piece.
“Not too far now,” Joel grinned as you nestled right into his warm chest, seeking his attention and attempting to siphon more of his warmth. It takes you off guard how your nerves instantly settled once you had Joel near you again. In his arms, that was where you belonged—protected, loved, safe.
“I missed you,” you mumbled, eyes shutting to breathe in his typical musk. One of his hands cradled your lower back, thumb running circles into your skin.
“I missed you too, darlin’. Too damn much.” Joel kissed your forehead, drawing lines up and down your back with his fingertips.
His hand moved again from behind you to the front of your body, palming your stomach protectively. A smile crept up on his face as he felt your tummy under the material of the flannel you stole from him, the only thing you preferred for pajamas. The gentle curve of your belly was not yet prominent enough to be overly detectable, but he knew what you carried. Precious cargo. That’s what he called it after you both adjusted to the shock of adding to Jackson’s current population count.
“Still feelin’ sick?” Joel asked you in the room’s darkness, his eyes shifting to watch over your facial features. The moonlight illuminated the edge of your jaw and the roundness of your cheeks, and his chest ached at the thought of witnessing other growing changes over the next couple of months.
“Sometimes. It bothers me, but nothing I can’t handle.” You reassured him the best way you knew how, having to rely on Maria’s advice for all things related to childcare and Ellie being your new overly protective guard and nurse when Joel wasn’t around.
If someone had told you that you’d find yourself alive after the apocalypse in a safe community and pregnant at that, you’d consider them crazy. Yet here you were, carrying a man’s child when you least expected it, a man years older than you with memories of a reality you couldn’t experience or remember. But you didn’t mind; the end of the world didn’t leave much room for strict morals anyway.
Make the most of it. You don’t know when you’ll miss something once it’s gone.
Joel had told you that after the first few patrols you had with him once you adjusted to Jackson, growing comfortable with the stoic and quiet man who grabbed your attention everywhere he went. He shared stories of a time before the world fell apart, discussing things like watching the sunset, listening to music from artists you’ve never heard of, and sweet treats he missed tasting. Things changed after the seventh patrol together, where you saw him smile for the first time after successfully hunting some game for the town.
That night, one thing led to another. It started after some drinks, a hungry and messy kiss on your doorstep that led to clothes on the bedroom floor, and hands pawing at one another. You woke up the next morning with an arm wrapped around your waist and his nose rubbing the back of your neck.
Simply put, you haven’t left since.
“Oh, I know. Can handle a whole lot, strong woman you are.” Joel taunted you a bit, his memory fleeting momentarily and recalling the spitfire you always were with him in particular. He could never seem to tame your spunk and attitude, but he grew to love it like the rest of you.
“Mhmm, real strong, if you ask me.” You held his gaze with a gleam of mischief, bringing your body closer to his wide chest and tilting your chin upwards, silently asking for more than a cuddle.
“You tryin’ to tell me something I don’t already know?”
“I don’t know. Am I?” You were a tease, always have been, jerking Joel’s chain more than he cared to admit.
“Those hormones are messing with your head, darlin’. Got you acting feisty,” he smirked, shifting nearer to your face.
Curious hands reached up to curl through his thick, graying curls. The contrasting streaks along his temple became more noticeable as time passed, matching the graying beard you’ve come to love and adore. He hesitated to let his hair grow out initially, thinking he’d look too much like his younger brother. Much convincing later, paired with hiding the shears, you got the desired result, and now you were lucky enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor.
The kiss was velvety as it was intimate, your tongue lining his bottom lip before he groaned, granting you entrance into his mouth. You swallowed the rumble he released, drawing a path of your touch from his neck down to his lower abdomen. Antsy fingers itched to skim the waistband of the fleece that concealed him, reaching close to the hardness you felt before he seized your hand away.
“Aht aht, no. As much as I want you there, it’s bedtime.” Joel didn’t necessarily want you to stop. Hell, if it were up to him, he’d let you go to town on him however you wanted. But his energy levels were dwindling, and all he wanted to do after a long day was get some proper rest with you in his arms.
“But-”
“Sweetheart, if you let this old man sleep, I’ll wake you up to a real nice surprise in the mornin’.” It was an effortless proposition, easy to keep you at bay until the next day and enough to curb your insatiable appetite.
“Promise?” You beat your lashes at him, knowing the last thing Joel would do was deliberately not provide for your needs, even if that meant having to keep up with you physically.
“Pinkie swear.” Joel gave you another peck before letting you get comfy against his chest once more, cuddling into him as much as your growing belly would allow without being squished. You started to drift off as sleep called to you, listening to the gentle rhythm of soft beating in your ear.
“Breakfast too, Miller.” You murmured to him, peeping how he laughed in the dark with his eyes closed. The pleasant and lively sound made you smile and your heart pound.
“Oh, I’ll feed you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
The peace in your bedroom matched the serenity that fell over Jackson. Now that you had Joel wrapped around you, you didn’t mind how quiet it was. So long as you have him, you can handle anything that comes your way.
©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel x reader#joel x you#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fluff#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#ovaryacted fics#⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
#writing advice#rambling#first drafts#gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster#feel like ive a ways to go yet#horror journeyman maybe
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kiss it better
pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.
warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.
wc: 3k
authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!
happy reading <3
The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way.
Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.
This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down.
Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice.
Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds.
He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise.
I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there.
Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces.
I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear.
Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me.
“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice.
“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?”
“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.”
Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising.
“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.
I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too.
Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.
My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him.
His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me.
Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.
My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do.
I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.
All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom. Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this.
Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough.
While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.
I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself.
I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist.
“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction.
Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.
“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk.
“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.
Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them”
My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth.
“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.”
“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again.
Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away.
“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss.
Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears.
“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.
Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you”
“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his.
Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together.
Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.
We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.
Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together.
“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please”
I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him.
“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra.
“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me.
Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me.
“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise.
I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.
I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare.
I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.
Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.
Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more.
“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.
“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy.
I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace.
“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine.
“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too.
Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage.
The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.
As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine.
I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us.
“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips.
Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet.
“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips.
“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock.
Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers.
“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.
“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake
“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing.
One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.
After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back.
I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.
“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly.
“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me.
My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.
“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again.
“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips.
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl fic#new jersey devils#jack hughes#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes smut
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Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD
first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.
Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3
Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird
Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)
Zevlor:
Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.
Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.
He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.
Astarion:
Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.
Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.
Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.
You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.
Wyll:
Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.
As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.
Haarlep:
Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.
One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.
Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.
Gale:
Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.
You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.
He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.
In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.
Halsin:
Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.
Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.
He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.
Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 x reader#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#vault: lynn ☆#ask: lynn ☆#asklynn☆: request#halsin x reader#halsin bg3#halsin x tav#tav x halsin#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#zevlor x tav#bg3 haarlep#haarlep#haarlep x tav#haarlep x reader#gale x gn!reader#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale x oc#gale x durge#wyll x reader#wyll x tav
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needy, e.w.
cw: fluff!!! little angst, pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart, princess, gorgeous) like one curse word, reader yells at ellie, reader cries a teeny tiny bit, no masc/fem roles are established
desc: gamer!ellie is glued to her game while your patience runs short. also soft!ellie🙏.
a/n: happy march 1st guys! i wanted to share something i wrote while procrastinating some work. thanks for all the support on my last two posts. also the anon that sent in the request, im working on it <3 thank you for reading and reblogs are welcomed and greatly appreciateddd !
wc: 801 (i think)
PLEASE READ HERE ON INFORMATION ABOUT AND HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!!!
you try not to be so needy, you really do. however, your heart can't help but get a little heavy watching ellie completely ignore your presence on one of your days off. and she's not even ignoring you to study or work, it's to play her stupid games.
sure, you played your fair share of video games, as you had an undying love for that one genre. however, you didn't come over under the impression that you'd be getting lonely in her bed, angry, while occasionally letting out a frustrated sigh. she didn't pay attention to those, too busy yelling at her friends on whatever fps shooter she was glued to.
you got angrier and angrier thinking about it and listening to her mash the buttons on her keyboard and throw insults out into her mic. you swear you can feel the annoyance in your bloodstream. you just wanted to do skincare and facemasks, watch some movies, and maybe even bake with your girlfriend. you decide to put your anger aside and give her the benefit of the doubt. you get up from her bed to remind her of what you two had planned. maybe she forgot?
"ellie, baby?" you say as you grab her shoulder softly to get her attention. she glances up at you then moves her headset off one of her ears, "yea- jesse, what the hell! he was literally one hp!" she yells. "anyways, sorry, what's up?" ellie finally gives you two scoops of her attention. "el, i thought we were gonna spend time together..," you say, shifting your weight to one leg as you cross your arms. "yea, yea, of course. just give me five more minutes," ellie says as she turns back to her game. "you literally said that 30 minutes ago, el," you sigh. "i mean it this time," ellie turns to you, doing a puppy face jokingly.
any other time you would burst into a fit of laughter, however right now, you were genuinely pissed off. you stare at her for a few seconds in silence, she stares back. her face slowly drops as she realizes you're pretty upset. next thing you know, you've reached over and put her pc into sleep mode. "y/n! why!??" she whines like a teenage boy going through puberty. "because, i came over on my day off to spend time with you, i could be getting a manicure or something.. but i've spent nearly an hour and a half watching you play this shitty game!" you yell then you walk out of her room, fed up. you grab your bag next to the couch and start to put your belongings away.
"sweetheart! i'm sorry, i really am!" she says as she follows you out of the room. you ignore her, now putting your bag on your shoulder. "look," ellie comes in front of you and softly slides the bag off of your shoulder, she notices how you're still looking down. she gently grabs your shoulders while looking down at you with an apologetic look on her face, "i am so sorry, i just got caught up in the game. i enjoy you being here, and i find your presence so comforting, beautiful. i never meant to make you feel unappreciated, i'm sorry once again." she takes her hand and lifts your face up, and notices your tear stained cheeks.
ellie's heart quite honestly shattered into a million pieces, she didn't know she made you feel so bad but she understands now. "baby, we can do whatever you want," she pulls you into a meaningful embrace while rubbing your back. "els, i love you, sorry for yelling and overreacting-" she cuts you off, "no don't apologize, it was pretty justified, i was being dumb," she lets out an airy laugh, "i love you back, princess."
she could feel you smile against her chest and it felt like 10 tons were lifted off of her back. she pulls away to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your nose, one on your cheek, and long one on your lips.
you straddle her on her bed while softly chuckling at the cute fuzzy animal headband you placed on ellie's head. you roll the jade roller all over her face, working in the serum you applied before. you can't help but admire how pretty she is. her constellations of freckles, each one so unique, her breathtaking deep eyes, and her long lashes you were so jealous of. little did you know, she was doing the same. you looked like a goddess from this angle, the light cascading down on your perfect figure emphasizing it. "hey baby?" ellie grabs your wrist. "yea, gorgeous?" you slightly lean back from her face, raising a brow.
"it's really hot when you yell at me."
reclinepilled
please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !
#reclinepilled writes <3#tlou#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#smut#ellie williams fluff#ellie fluff#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams angst#ellie angst#abby anderson#abby tlou#the last of us
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Red | KNJ | (m)
☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader
☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.
☾ Word Count: 21,148
☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, 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: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really.
☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024
☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao. I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.
☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.
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.
| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab | Taglist
Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to.
It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs.
Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight.
You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees.
The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here.
Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head.
Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.
The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors.
A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again.
Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.
It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain.
The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death.
Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had.
You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.
A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.
Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.
You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching.
It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.
“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”
The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you.
Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm.
You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.
As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.
“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”
The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?”
A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is.
“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.”
The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert.
“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”
Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal.
It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse.
Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.
“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”
Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.
The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart.
Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.
Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.
Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.
Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air.
Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to.
A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you.
“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear.
The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.
“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”
Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real.
“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.”
Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly.
“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”
It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored.
At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling.
“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?”
The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself.
-
“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”
The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet.
Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause.
Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer.
-
THIRTEEN YEARS LATER
“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”
“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.”
That makes him pause. “There was?”
“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.”
“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.”
You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house.
Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels.
“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room.
“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.”
“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”
“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.”
Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”
It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons.
Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it.
Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people.
“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…”
Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.”
It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.
That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by.
“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly.
“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”
“Strange how?”
You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.
“I don’t know. I was so young.”
“Hmm.”
The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot.
It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting.
“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.”
“Really?”
“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.”
-
The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.
“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?”
“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.”
“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.”
The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear.
Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm?”
“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.”
“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”
Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt.
“For what?”
“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”
“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”
“Was it that awful?”
He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”
“Angry?”
“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.”
You hum in agreement.
San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.
You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter.
Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face.
Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.
It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door.
“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”
“So what do we do?”
Silence. Then, “Send a message….”
“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.”
Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question.
“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.
“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.”
You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late.
Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”
Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.”
“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.
Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”
“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”
“You too.”
Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?”
-
The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.
Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.
Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village.
Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.
It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what.
The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path.
Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call.
Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains.
As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again.
“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?”
“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”
No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door.
Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence.
You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait.
Nothing comes.
Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head.
Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior.
You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs.
Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table.
Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart.
Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-
Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse.
You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.
“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!”
For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod.
“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?”
The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.
Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.
The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large.
Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged.
The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify.
Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others.
Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.
Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go.
Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?”
You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”
He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”
Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?”
Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn.
“Dr. Kim!”
Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done.
“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”
“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”
“But the wolves-”
“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”
“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?”
“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”
-
Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie.
Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing.
A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village.
“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.”
“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.
Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town.
At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts.
“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!”
Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside.
Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations.
Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal.
Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”
“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”
“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”
He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.”
You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day.
Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades.
A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders.
The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders.
As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine.
He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch.
You’ve never seen him. You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.
He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them.
The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one.
“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere.
“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple.
“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.”
“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”
“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.”
-
Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive.
Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know?
Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more.
Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights.
Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets.
With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents.
Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies.
As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.
You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves.
Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.
You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.
It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.
“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”
“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”
“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.”
Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.
Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.
Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.
The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by.
Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.
“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”
“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.”
“Yoongi is a lunatic.”
“He’s the alpha.”
You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is.
“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”
You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons.
“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”
“Is revenge worth it?”
“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.”
“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”
Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name.
Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”
A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business.
Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”
“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”
Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.
When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-
“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”
The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.
When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified.
He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.
The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling.
“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”
“Thank you?”
He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”
“I’m… you’re awfully close.”
Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”
“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”
You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”
“Family friends.”
“What were you all talking about?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”
You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”
“Because of the wolves?”
He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”
“You’re a stranger in my town.”
His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”
“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.
“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”
Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.
Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square.
“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”
“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”
“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”
Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?”
Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street.
It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival.
The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair.
“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”
You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok.
Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you.
“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”
“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”
“He’s very handsome.”
You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.”
He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”
-
A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity.
In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.
Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house.
“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air.
“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.
The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.
A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway.
Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps.
“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.
You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable.
“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”
“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.”
Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different.
Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.
The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home.
Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.
With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window.
Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight.
Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw.
The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line.
It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight.
Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-
“Red.”
Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt.
Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“What are you doing?”
“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”
“Why?”
Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”
“Both.”
“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”
You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black, thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.
“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.”
Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat.
You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”
“I run warm.”
It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road.
“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.”
Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney.
Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.
Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs.
“What kind of tea do you like?”
“Yarrow, if you have it.”
“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”
“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”
“Well, we are strangers, after all.”
Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.
“I suppose that’s true.”
Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure.
Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.
Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours.
“Why have you come to the village?”
Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.
“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”
Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little.
“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”
“It is… not always like that here.”
“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”
“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.”
Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”
“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”
He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.”
“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?”
“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.”
“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?”
“He was a hunter.”
One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there.
“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”
Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”
“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.”
“You must resent the woods.”
“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”
“Usually?”
“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”
“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”
“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.”
“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.”
“Like your family?”
He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”
“Really?”
“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”
“I always found that incredibly sad.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”
Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural.
Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision.
“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”
A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.
“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.
-
Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon.
How swiftly I know his voice, you think.
“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”
“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”
You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”
Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow.
Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”
The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions.
“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.”
“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.”
Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.
“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”
“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”
Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat.
The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home?
You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea.
When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.”
“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”
“And who the hell are you?”
“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”
Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.
As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”
He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”
“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?”
Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”
“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?”
“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”
“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?”
“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”
That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”
Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”
“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”
His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”
“Where are you going?”
He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”
Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.
You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.
-
Little Lucy Larkin
In a little wood
Little Lucy Larkin
Up to no good
Little Lucy Larkin
In her little hood
Little Lucy Larkin
Ware of the woods!
Little Lucy Larkin
Stole a little bread
Little Lucy Larkin
In the woods of dread
Little Lucy Larkin
Is a little thief
Little Lucy Larkin
Die by wolf’s teeth
A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him.
The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn.
Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.
Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”
“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”
“I’m on the late-night shift.”
Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes.
You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.
Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home.
An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?
You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones.
Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face.
“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”
“Something is going on.”
“Yes, your attitude.”
You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.”
Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.
T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.
Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.
Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.
Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though.
All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.
Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light.
Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.
They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold.
The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you.
Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.
Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.
The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.
This is near where I saved that wolf, you think.
It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.
A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going.
Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them.
The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back.
A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-
Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves.
One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there.
It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend.
You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe.
Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest.
You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles.
Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape.
When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something.
You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak.
It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored.
Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire.
Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face.
“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.”
You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.
The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes.
You do not find him there.
With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.
A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.
Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it.
With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another.
Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away.
Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.
“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”
Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.
Namjoon.
-
“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”
The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.
“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.”
“Where am I?”
The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.
“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.”
“Seokjin - you - what is going on?”
Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude.
Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought.
“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”
“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”
He nods slowly. “They are.”
You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.”
“Like what?”
“Like werewolves exist.”
You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence.
Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.
Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.
Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”
He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story.
“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.”
Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”
This village has a complicated history.
Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but…
“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?”
Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”
“Who is Yoongi?”
“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.”
“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”
Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”
You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”
“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.”
“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.”
“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”
Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”
“Of course. Sleep, Red.”
-
Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed.
This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love.
He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.
“I have questions.”
He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”
“Did the werewolves kill my father?”
You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.
“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.”
A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon.
You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?”
Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist.
Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.
You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward.
The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -
“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”
His throat bobs. “You did.”
“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.”
“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”
You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”
“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”
“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”
“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”
“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”
“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”
“I knew I liked you.”
“You barely know me.”
Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.”
“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”
He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”
“Which is?”
“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”
Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?”
“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”
“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”
So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood.
It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community.
Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered.
There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up.
Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic.
He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.
“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”
“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”
“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”
“He’s good at that.”
“You sound fond, still.”
He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”
“Well still. Thank you.”
You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep.
Your toes curl. “Like what?”
“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”
“Maybe I do.”
“I know.”
Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”
“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”
“Is this what you want?”
This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense.
Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.
He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.
The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.
Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.
Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.
Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home.
Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll.
Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”
“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”
Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.
“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”
“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Yes.”
You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him.
There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.
Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated.
He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.
“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”
He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.”
Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.”
He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.
You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.
“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.
His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.
Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.
Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat.
The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you.
You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.
Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent.
“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”
He kisses you. “Okay.”
It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.
Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length.
He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”
Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss.
You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.
“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent.
You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in.
Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.
Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.
The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.
“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.”
Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist.
Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad.
Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped.
“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”
“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”
His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.”
Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed.
The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock.
You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does.
There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.
Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy.
Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him.
For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once.
After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”
“We.”
“Hmm?”
“We have to go back.”
Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”
“You want to help?”
“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”
“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”
“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”
For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red.
#namjoon smut#kim namjoon smut#bts smut#namjoon fic#namjoon fanfic#kim namjoon fic#kim namjoon fanfic#namjoon x you#namjoon x reader#werewolf namjoon#collab
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I've seen a few stories about the reader being Eddie's secret admirer but what about the other way around? Eddie is your secret admirer and leaves you little notes in your locker. He praises you and encourages you-- maybe a little pick-me-up when you're feeling down. Occasionally he'll slip small gifts into your backpack. Anything to see you smile :)
I love this idea. This is going to be a little self-indulgent, not gonna lie.
Warnings: TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF. a lil angst, insecure reader, no use of pronouns, no use of 'y/n', Eddie's a little bit of an idiot, very low-key stalker!Eddie, Robin, mentions of unrequited feelings (it's rumored he likes Chrissy), not proofread so most likely grammar and spelling errors (sorry)
Word Count: 3923
Eddie Munson was absolutely enamored by you. He didn't quite know what it was that drew him to you. You weren't part of the popular crowd, you only had your small group of friends, and you always seemed to be so... self-conscious - or so he noticed.
Maybe that was where he got the idea in the first place.
He noticed you were especially quiet one day. Head down, headphones over your ears as you wrote seamlessly in your journal. He wondered what you were writing about, what you were listening to, and why you had a small frown etched onto your face.
Had someone said something to you?
You suddenly raised your hand.
His head snapped forward.
Had you caught him staring? Were you going to say something? Humiliate him? He pictured a thousand ways this could go.
"May I go to the restroom, please?" you asked, timidly.
But, that wasn't one of them.
"Quickly please..." the teacher granted.
You got up and walked out of the classroom. Eddie glanced over at your journal, a pen in between the pages, bookmarking where you left off. He bit his lip, concentrating on something before a lightbulb lit up in his mind. He glimpsed at the teacher than at the door before ripping a small piece of paper out of his notebook. His tongue ever-so-slightly poked out as he scribbled down something in a hurry before leaning over to slip it in between the pages of your journal.
The bell rang right when you stepped back into the classroom, giving Eddie the perfect opportunity to leave undetected. He smoothly slipped passed you, your shoulders brushing each other's. It sent sparks up through his body. The feeling lingered and he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.
He wanted to watch your reaction, but that would risk giving him away. He forced himself away, already planning his next plan of action.
You on the other hand were in shock.
Good job on the test. I saw you got an A. You're too smart for the rest of this school... and too pretty. - Love, your secret admirer <3
Your eyebrows furrowed a little. Neither one of this person's statements were necessarily true. There were people way prettier than you here, not to mention smarter. But, nonetheless it was nice to hear. It brought a smile to your face, but it slowly fell.
Surely, this is a joke.
You were surprised to say the least the next morning when you opened your locker and a note fluttered down, out and onto the floor. You leaned down to pick it up and carefully looked around whilst standing upright. You unfolded the piece of paper.
Did I mention you were pretty in my last note? I did't mean to sound creepy - not to say you aren't pretty because you are very pretty, I could stare at you all day. Don't read that. - Love, your secret, not creepy, admirer :)
You giggled at the slight awkwardness the writing held. It was almost endearing. Key word: Almost. You still couldn't help but think this was some kind of joke.
"What's that?" Robin asked, pointing to the note in your hand.
"Wha-oh nothing!" You stuck it in your pocket.
"Oooo, does someone have a secret admirer?" she teased
"What?! No, that's-that's silly," you denied "It was just trash, something from an old assignment."
"Uh huh, sure."
"Robin!" you scolded, annoyed. "I'm being serious."
She put her hands up in surrender. "Whatever. You. Say."
You rolled your eyes, as the two of you began to walk side-by-side to your first period.
"But, if it is a secret admirer, who do you think it is? Who do you want it to be?"
"Look." You stopped walking, cuing Robin to also stop. "Even if it is something, it's probably a joke. One of the jocks playing some cruel prank on me." You glanced behind you and saw none other than Eddie Munson standing there staring at you. You smiled when you met his eyes.
His eyes widened a slight blush creeping up onto his cheeks, as he rushed off.
Robin caught the interaction. "What was that all about?" she asked, excitedly.
"Nothing!"
"What if it's him?"
"Who? Eddie?"
"Yes, Eddie!"
You shook your head. "No. That can't be possible, wasn't it rumored he liked Chrissy a couple of months ago?" You started to walk again.
"Firstly, that was a couple of months ago, and secondly, it was 'rumored'. It was never confirmed."
"Doesn't sound unreasonable to me," you said, not trying to sound too upset. "Guys like Eddie, don't like girls like me."
"You want it to be him, don't you?"
"Forget it, it's not important. What is important is the Econ test."
Robin groaned loudly, reluctantly stepping into the classroom. You turned back to where Eddie was previously standing and with a loud sigh you entered the classroom.
Eddie's eyes were glued to you in the cafeteria. You were cheerfully talking to Robin about something and his heart couldn't help but flutter at the way your eyes lit up. What he'd give to be able to talk with you, and listen to that sweet voice of yours for hours.
He watched, intently, as your eyes suddenly caught your reflection on something. He saw the way you slumped before attempting to sit up more. The grimace on your face growing more evident by the second.
Why the Hell were you looking at the love of his life that way?
He ripped out a piece of paper and wrote something down. Standing up, he stormed out of the cafeteria and to your locker where he slipped the note in. He scanned his surroundings and saw no one around to ruin the secret before it had really even started. Whistling, as he goes to his locker. He opened it when a note fell from it. He picked it up and read it.
Meet me in the woods at 12:15 tomorrow. Bring whatever you have. - C.C.
C.C.? His eyes widened in realization.
Chrissy Cunningham wants to do a drug deal?
You smiled, softly, when you saw your secret admirer had left you yet another note.
No matter what you think, you look absolutely beautiful today - and everyday. I like you in blue. - Love, your secret admirer <3
You felt as though you were in a daze. You looked down at your blue sweater which - until now - you felt like a blimp in. Guess, whoever your secret admirer is thought otherwise. You bite your lip and tucked the note in between the pages of your journal where you'd keep - like all the rest of them - it there for safe keeping.
"Anymore love letters?" Robin asked, scaring you.
"Don't do that!" You put a hand over your heart as if it'd help slow it down from its rapid pace. "Yeah, if you consider them love letters."
"Do you want me to try to help you figure them out?"
"If you say-"
"I'll start. Eddie."
"Robin!" You slam your locker and walk away. "It's not him."
"Talk to him, be friendly, see what happens-hey, I might be right!"
"That would be the first."
"Hey!" She grabbed your shoulder to stop you. "I know it's really hard to be brave because you're scared of what the outcome could be, but think about it-if this person is being genuine, you might have something really special here."
You sigh. "I'll think about it, okay?"
Robin grins, widely. "Now, start with Eddie."
You roll your eyes. "Fine, but only to get you off my back, and cross him off the list."
It can't be him, it's impossible.
You sat down at your usual seat, now being awkwardly aware it's next to Eddie's seat. You pull out your journal, smiling when you see the note previous notes you've received. You turn back to your backpack to grab your pen but are surprised to see that there is a new set of pens next to your pencil bag. You pull it out and observe it. They were nice, really nice. One in blue, pink, red, black, orange, green, and purple. A note attached to them.
Thought you might like these since you write so much. I noticed you color code things sometimes so I bought you a couple of different colors to give you some options. Hope you like them - Love, your secret - now broke - admirer.
You laugh, pleasantly surprised. You remembered leaving your backpack on a chair in the cafeteria that morning while you used the bathroom. You tend to forget to go at home due oversleeping, leading to the frantic rush of trying to get ready in time.
Eddie perked up hearing the sound of your laughter beside him making him look over. His breath hitched in his throat - you liked his note, you liked him present, you were liking him. He cleared his throat. "What's that you got?"
You froze for a moment. "Huh?" You looked at Eddie.
He pointed toward the note. "Got a secret admirer or something?"
You bit back a smile. "Something like that." You couldn't hide your giddiness.
Eddie found it absolutely adorable. "Any ideas of who it is?"
"Nope, not a clue." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Wouldn't be you, would it?"
Eddie nearly choked, but he somehow held his composure. "Sorry, sweetheart, but it is not."
You shrugged, not even noticing the slip of the pet name in his answer. "I figured."
He gave you a confused expression. "You-you figured?"
"Well, yeah, everyone knows you-" you leaned closer toward him. "You like Chrissy," you whispered.
He gaped at you. "Chrissy?"
"Yeah."
"Where on Earth did you hear that?"
"People were talking about it a couple of months ago. Don't tell me it's not true."
His posture straightened. "What if I told you it wasn't?"
You weakly smiled. "I'd call you a liar," you replied, softly. Paying attention to the teacher as she started the class.
It made it so you didn't catch the way Eddie sunk further into his seat.
What had he done?
That was his chance to tell you how he felt, and he blew it.
Chrissy Cunningham?
Now, all he thought about for the rest of class was the fact that he was having a drug deal with his so-called 'crush' tomorrow in the woods.
Wasn't it obvious he was in love with you?
The answer is no, no it wasn't because if it was maybe you would've already pulled the plug and ask him out, but you hadn't and you wouldn't especially not after his lack of denial for liking Chrissy Cunningham.
Robin was wrong.
"You were wrong," you said to Robin, passing by her quickly in the hallway.
It was the next day, the bell for the lunch period had rung just a few seconds ago and you were briefly explaining your avoidance to your best friend.
"But, I'm never wrong!" she claimed in a shout over the crowd. "He's lying!"
You rolled your eyes, leaving the hustle and bustle of students going to the cafeteria. You needed to be alone. Alone in your thoughts, where it's just you and your journal... and maybe a few tears.
Because though Robin may have been wrong about it being Eddie, she wasn't wrong about you wanting it to be Eddie. You had gotten a note from your secret admirer yesterday before school ended saying,
I know you don't know who I am, but I need you to know I like you... a lot. And I know we don't talk that much, but I want to, because you are so amazing and why wouldn't I want to be with you? Who wouldn't want to be with you? Everyday I question myself on why I haven't bit the bullet yet and asked you out and it's because I'm afraid. Of how you'd react, of how others would react, and I don't want to risk having you hate me. Which I doubt you would anyways because you're you, the nicest person I've ever spoken to. So, please, give me time to work up the courage, don't give up on me, I don't think I could take it. I'm done now, maybe this scared you off - probably scared you off... um... bye- your secret admirer.
You thought back to how your heart squeezed as you read every word. You wished you knew who it was, so you could put their mind at peace. So, you could put your mind at peace.
You found yourself in the woods, setting your stuff down on the wooden table that was placed in the most secluded part of the area. Hardly no one goes out there. It was a place you could allow yourself to pace around and think things through.
Who is it?
That was the number one question. You attempted to conjure a mental list of possible candidates but you always drew a blank every time you tried.
Who would ever like-
You screamed as your back collided into something behind you. You spun around.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Eddie chuckled, holding out a hand.
"Eddie? Wh-what are you doing out here?"
"Confidential," he said, analyzing your overall physical presence. "You okay?" he asked.
"Define 'okay'." You dryly laugh, sitting down at the table.
He frowned and sat across from you, setting his metal lunchbox next to your stuff. "You want to tell me about it? Or do I have to guess?"
You rest your forearms on the table. "Do you ever feel like-like you don't fit in?"
He looked taken aback. "On-like-a daily basis," he answered, a wide smile taking over his face, directed toward you. "You forget you're talking to 'the freak', sweetheart."
You groaned softly.
That made his smile falter. "Why d'you ask?"
You shrugged, suddenly your hands become fascinating as you stared at them fidgeting. "Guess I haven't been feeling-" You cleared your throat, "-great about myself lately, that's all?"
He propped himself up slightly on the table. "Something happen?"
"More like someone." You glanced up at him to gauge at his expression. It held concern. You carelessly threw your hands up. "You know that admirer I spoke about the other day?"
He nodded, slowly. "Yeah."
"I've been wracking my mind trying to figure out who it is, and I just... can't. Sometimes I believe I'm a little unlovable at times."
"What?!" he blurted. "Sweetheart, that's not true, you are so lovable!"
You grew very confused by his sudden outburst, but he didn't seem to catch on as he continued.
He stood up and walked over to your side of the table to sit next to you. To have your full attention. "You are smart, funny, talented and so, so beautiful." Your heart skipped a beat. "God, who wouldn't want to be with you?"
Your eyes shot up to meet his. "What did you say?"
"Huh?" He tilted his head. "You-you didn't hear any of that?"
"No-yes! I mean what did you say at the end?"
"Who wouldn't want to be with you?" he repeated unsure.
Why wouldn't I want to be with you? Who wouldn't want to be with you? You recalled from the note.
"Eddie?" you called out in the same tone as his previous one.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to ask you this one last time, and I want you to tell me the truth." You took in a deep breath. "Are you the person who has been writing to me?"
He suddenly turned pale. His eyes nervously flickered away from yours. "Ummm..." He couldn't seem to form any words. "Maybe-well-I-um..."
You shifted a little closer to him.
His eyes moved back to focus on you and how close you've gotten. "Hi," he whispered, taking in every single inch of your face. Every flaw and imperfection.
So goddamn beautiful.
He exhaled shakily. It fanned your face causing your eyes to flutter shut. Both of you gravitating toward each other unknowingly. Your noses barely brushed each others when another voice broke the silence.
"Am I interrupting something?"
You abruptly moved away from Eddie and met the eyes of none other than Chrissy Cunningham. You gaze averted to Eddie who looked rather frantic and disheveled.
"Confidential," he said.
Oh.
"Oh," you said aloud. "No-I-um-I was just leaving." You rapidly gathered your stuff.
Eddie watched helplessly, instinctively reaching out to grab you, to stop you, but you dodged it. He got up to try again, this time he was able to catch your hand, gently grasping it. He leaned toward you. "It's just a drug deal, I swear," he said, lowly. "You have to believe me." His eyes pleaded.
You dared a glimpse at Chrissy. She looked uncomfortable as she scanned her surroundings as if anyone could be watching. At that moment it didn't seem like a lie, but at the same time your mind brought you back to the rumor, and the fact that you didn't know if that was a lie or not.
You formed your lips into a tight-line. "I'll see you around, Eddie," you bit back before pulling away and storming off.
Eddie debated on running after you, but instead he took in a sharp breath before shooting a fake smile at Chrissy. "So... let's get started, shall we?"
Your foot tapped against the tiled floors. Peering straight in front of you, not really paying attention to the lesson. How could you when you felt Eddie's eyes on you the entire time next to you? From your peripheral vision you saw Eddie writing something down on a sheet of paper. He slid his foot over to nudge yours, trying to get your attention to take the paper out of his hands.
The devil won the argument in this case as you carefully grabbed it and set it down on your desk.
Can we talk, please?
After reading it, you grabbed your pen and wrote back.
What is there to talk about?
You handed him back the sheet of paper without looking at him. You heard him sigh loudly along with a scribble of something. He pushed the paper back into your hands.
I need you to know the full story. Five minutes? That's all I'm asking for.
You thought through it. You clicked your pen twice then wrote a response.
Fine.
He let out a breath of relief.
Thank you. Meet me by my van at 4pm.
Your eyebrow quirked up.
Are you planning on kidnapping me?
If that's what it takes to get you to listen to me Does 4pm work for you?
I read that. And yes, that works for me.
Eddie's hope grew a little at your words. He prayed - to whichever god was out there, ones in which he didn't believe in - that he didn't ruin what hasn't even had the chance to begun.
'Cause God, he's in love with you.
You stood by his van with your arms crossed. The front of your shoe kicking a nearby pebble. Eddie rushed over to you.
"You're late," you said.
He looked down at his watch. 4:10, he read. "I'm sorry."
"For what? Being late or....?"
"Everything," he paused. "You know when you told me that thing about me liking Chrissy I knew I messed up."
You shifted your weight to one side. "How so?"
"Because, I thought it was so obvious how I felt for you. I thought people saw it from miles away, but I guess showing my feelings is just another thing I fail at doing in my life."
You frowned.
He continued, "I hope you know now that I've always liked you." He bit his lip. "Man, I think I liked you before I even knew I liked you." He chuckled. "I was scared though, even if you said you felt the same I was scared you'd back away once you realized what a freak I am. I'm not someone who can give you everything you've wanted... but I would try."
You smiled a little. "Eddie, I don't like you because I thought you could give me the world, I like you because-as corny as this sounds-you are my world. I never believed in the how soulmates thing, but ever since I met you, it was always you. And I have to admit I wanted you to be my admirer so bad, but my life-it never seems to go easy on me, so the first thing I thought was that it was a joke, and then when it seemed to be becoming more real and Robin of all people was telling me how she thought it was you... I didn't want to give into the hope. Then you told me it wasn't you, and I didn't have any proof to convince me otherwise."
"I'm your world?" he asked, breathless.
"That's all you got from that?" you joked.
He shook his head. "No, but it definitely was the part that lingered the longest."
"Eddie, I-"
"I meant every word I wrote, and it wasn't even half the things I've wanted to say to you for so long. Because there's so much I want to tell you, and we have so much to make up for, but that's only if you want me."
You opened your mouth then closed it. Finally you spoke, "Where do we start?"
He broke out into a large smile. "You mean it?"
"Yeah," you reply, mimicking his smile.
The two of you stared at each other for a few moments.
"You can kiss me now, if you want," you said.
"Oh, thank fuck," he breathed.
He leaned in, cupping your jaw to bring you lips to meet his. You breathed him in immediately, the smell of cigarettes, cologne, and a hint of mint clogging your nose. Delightfully suffocating you in his warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer as the two of your fell in a fast rhythm, making up for at least some of the lost time, then slow and steady to savor the moment as this was something neither one of them every wanted to forget. Ever.
A note fluttered out of your locker.
"Another one?" Robin groaned.
You picked it up with a lovesick smile plastered onto your face. "Don't sound so annoyed Robin, you should be pleased."
"Just because I'm always right, doesn't mean I like to be always right."
"You're right. You love to be always right," you quip back, unfolding the piece of paper.
Morning sweetheart, just wanted to say I love you and I can't wait for our date tonight. - Love, Eddie.
"Why can't he just tell you that when he see's you at school today?" Robin asked.
You dreamily sigh. "He wanted to keep the memory of how we got together alive, so we decided to continue writing each other notes. It doesn't matter what we say in them." You eyes met Eddie's figure a few feet away from you. "It's the thought that matters." With that last word to Robin, you run toward Eddie who immediately picks you up and spins you around.
"How are you doing today?" he asked.
"Good!" you chirped. "I got your note."
"Oh, did you? Have any thoughts about it? Responses?"
"A few..." You smiled, and pecked his cheek, making him blush profusely. "I love you too."
#eddie st4#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie fluff#eddie angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson oneshot#st fanfic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie munson x you
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Archaeology student Venture trying hard to charm the cute literature major girl that sits in their medieval studies classes. Endless rambling about ancient cultures and books to try and win you over. Can barely focus on the lecture when you're around. Yeah. College Venture <3
I love this concept gangalang! Im not in college (yet) so I don't have a first hand experience of what college is like, but I'll always try my best <3
I always headcanon that Sloan does enjoy reading the classics...
(wrote this in class)
You settle down in a seat in your medieval studies classroom, sitting in the middle section of the lecture hall. Not many people populated the classroom, just a few groups of people talking amongst themselves and getting settled down to take notes.
The professor started her lecture and you started people watching. Why did you have to choose this class...
You had a good view of most of the other students because everyone wanted to be close to the professor to hear her speak and record, but there was a person sitting 5 chairs down from you, sitting ramrod straight and trying to look nonchalant. Odd.
The professor mentioned something about a project and you snapped your attention back to her.
"... you will be studying the architecture of the Romanesque building style and you must work with another person for full credit..."
Oh now we have to work with another person. Great. You reach down into your bag to grab your laptop and supplies when—
"You know that even though we call them the Byzantines, they called themselves Romans?"
You jump a little bit and look up to see a person with wild curls, a chipped tooth and a eyebrow piercing. The same person sitting weirdly during the lecture. They're now sitting eerily close to you.
You feel awkward just staring at them without saying anything.
"If they called themselves Romans then why do we call them Byzantines?"
They seem shocked you asked a replied back and start stuttering.
"Well- because their capital city was called Byzantine before it was Constantinople and after that it was Istanbul after the Ottoman turks took it over..."
Now that you've gotten a good look at them, they're so handsome.. you catch a glimpse of a neck tattoo before they put their hand around their neck, rubbing it slightly.
"Sorry, I was talking too much— oh wait! Where's my manners, my name is Sloan– what's yours?"
You tell them your name and they seem to melt a little bit. You talk for a little bit more about the Byzantines and the topic of the project comes up again.
"You seem like you know a lot about history, Sloan. Do you want to work together?"
They freeze. They were about to pick up a piece of paper and they look like they were caught like a deer in headlights.
"Um."
Oh crap.
"We don't have to if you don't want to—"
"NO! No I want to work with you, like how the Delian league and the Peloponnesian league combined forces to defeat the Persians!!"
They're blushing and waving their hands around.
"Um- I'm free later this week, but I have to get to my Geology class now– this is my number, have a great day ill see you later bye!!"
They essentially sprint away after basically throwing a scrap of paper with scratchy numbers written on it. You see them run to a thin man with patchy blonde hair with ash and grime on his shirt, them both talking excitedly and you hear Sloan proclaim their "successful first blow against the walls of Constaninople."
Whatever. If there's something you love most, it's history nerds.
-+-
I didn't wanna make this too long but I actually love this idea so here's some headcanons that I wish I could have fit in here ;3
- sloan would give you crystals meant to increase focus
- sloan would ALSO give you crystals because they "thought you would like them" but they're just all those affection stones like rose quartz.
- omg
- sloan gives you necklace/bracelet with those kinds of stones
- Now that you're working together they still sit up very straight at the beginning of class, but they progressively get more relaxed as they talk to you
- before, they wouldn't dare to get within a normal line of sight with you
- hence sitting 5 chairs away
- junkrat cameo. Had to do it
- junkrat got so fed up with Sloan
- "Sloan, if you don't get your big pants on and talk to them I'm blowing up your fossil collection."
- "you wouldn't dare. And besides, they would hate me..."
- "I wouldn't touch your fossils... but Mako might."
- that was the final straw for them LMAO
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𝐀 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, office sex, explicit language, long story ahead, not proofread, grammatical errors, oneshot
✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!
The office was bustling with activity as usual, but today, there seemed to be an extra layer of tension in the air. Miguel had been working on a particularly difficult project for weeks now, and it looked like things were finally coming to a head. His client had set an unrealistic deadline, and Miguel was starting to feel the pressure.
He sat hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as he typed furiously. The coffee cup beside him was empty, forgotten. His stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He tried to push the hunger pangs aside and focus on the task at hand. As the hours ticked by, Miguel felt his stress levels rising. His mind was racing, trying to find a solution to the problem that seemed insurmountable.
Sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the cold air conditioning in the room. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it only made the world around him blurrier. Finally, when it felt like time had stopped moving altogether, Miguel's phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at the screen, half-expecting it to be another email from his client, but instead, it was a text from you.
“Hey, just checking in on you,” you wrote. “It's been a while since I've heard from you. Are you okay?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up straight. His shoulders were tight with tension, and he realized how much stress he had been holding onto. He typed out a quick reply.
“I'm fine, just swamped with work. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight.” As he hit send, he felt a tiny bit of the weight lift off his chest. Maybe you could help him unwind after all this was over. Or maybe they could take a break together tomorrow—something to look forward to amidst all the chaos. For now, though, Miguel turned back to his computer screen and redoubled his efforts to meet that impossible deadline.
A knock brought him out of focus and he dragged his eyes away from his laptop screen and towards the office door. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and looked up at the clock. 7 PM. “Hey baby,” you gleamed and entered his office.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher than he expected. He stood up and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back. “I didn't realize it was so late.”
You closed the door behind you and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your head on his chest, and Miguel felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “How's your day so far?” you asked softly. Miguel looked down at you, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting you all day. “Tiring, I might have to stay late again for tonight,” he sighed. “What brings you here?”
“Well, I was thinking of giving you a hand… seems like you need it.” You said, kissing his jawline. His body tensed in contact. A shaky breath escaped his mouth when he felt your lips travel down his neck. “Mmm,” He murmured softly, closing his eyes as you continued to trail gentle kisses along his jawline and up toward his earlobe.
“You know, I can't tell if you're trying to distract me or help me focus right now,” he chuckled, leaning back against the desk with a sigh. You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Maybe both?” Miguel shook his head, smiling. “I don't know how you do it,” he said, running a finger through your hair. “But I appreciate it.” He pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together in an intimate embrace. “Now let's go get some food so we can actually talk about something other than work for once.”
He grabbed your hand and led you towards the door. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I missed you today,” he whispered against your ear. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, feeling the tension from earlier start to melt away. “I missed you too,” you replied, nuzzling his neck. “But you're always so busy.”
“I know,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “But I promise we'll make up for it tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, his hands running soothingly up and down your back. You could feel the heat between them building once again as he pressed his body against yours.
“Come on,” he murmured after a moment, breaking the kiss reluctantly. “Maybe we can find somewhere more comfortable to continue this conversation.” He winked at you playfully, tugging gently on your hand as they walked towards the parking lot together.
You found a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in the corner of their neighborhood. The atmosphere was dimly lit, with soft music playing in the background, creating an intimate ambiance that felt miles away from the hustle and bustle of their office building.
Miguel ordered some wine to share and spent the next hour or so just talking about anything but work—your favorite movies, your dream vacation spots, and even some silly childhood memories. As you both sipped on your drinks and savored each bite of food, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with him.
When you finally finished eating, Miguel took out his phone to check the time again (a habit he couldn't seem to shake), only to find that it was much later than he thought. “Wow,” he said, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “I guess we really got caught up.”
“Don't worry about it,” you replied with a smile. “We both needed this.” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Come on,” he continued. “Let's head back.” You left the restaurant hand in hand, feeling more relaxed and connected than you had all day.
As you walked down the street together, Miguel's arm brushed against your shoulder every now and then, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. When you finally reached his office, he took your hand and led you inside. The room was dimly lit as well, casting long shadows across the floor as you made your way to his desk. He loosened his tie before turning around to face you.
“So,” he began softly, running a finger along your jawline. “What was it you said earlier, hmm? Giving me a hand?” You bit your lower lip nervously as he stepped closer, bringing his body flush against yours. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “How about we make use of that right now?”
Miguel lifted you onto his desk, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him. Your legs were spread wide, offering yourself to him in an unmistakable invitation. With trembling hands, he reached down and cupped your soft mound, feeling the heat radiating off it as he began to massage gently.
“Miguel,” you whispered hoarsely, arching your back as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He teased at the sensitive folds between your legs before pressing slowly inside. You cried out softly at the sensation, hips jerking involuntarily. His other hand found its way to one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipple as he took control of your body with both hands.
You whimpered, leaning into his touch. “Oh God, Miguel...I need you.” He looked into your eyes, his own filled with desire. “Estoy aquí, mi vida. Voy a cuidar de ti bien.” He murmured before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Miguel positioned himself between your legs, his cock at the entrance of your wet and eager pussy. He rubbed the head against your sensitive folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. His fingers traced gentle circles around your entrance, spreading your folds wider apart as he prepared to enter you.
With a deep breath, he pushed forward, slowly inserting his thick cock into your tight heat. You gasped as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him stretching you out. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he began to thrust in and out. The sensation was exquisite—the fullness, the depth, the feeling of being completely claimed by him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you arched your back, pressing your breast against his chest. Your hips undulated in time with his rhythm, begging for more.
His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as he began to thrust harder inside you. You moaned loudly against his lips, needing more of him. With one last glance at you, Miguel allowed himself to give in to the passion that had been building between them. As his pace quickened, his free hand slid down your body until it found its way to your clit. He started rubbing it in circles, adding another layer of pleasure to an already intense experience.
You continued to moan his name, and his own pleasure intensified. His hips bucked against yours in time with the thrusts of his cock as he reached for your clit again. He rubbed it harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The desk beneath you creaked under the force of your movements. You could feel the heat between your legs building up, ready to explode at any moment.
“That's it,” Miguel whispered hoarsely against your lips. “Let go for me.” With one final thrust, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. And then you both did—you screamed out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of blissful release.
His hot seed filled you up, and together you panted and shook from the intensity of their shared experience. As your heart rate slowed and the world around you started to fade back into focus, Miguel leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and full of love.
𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara headcannon#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara smut#miguel headcanons#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel smut#atsv miguel#spiderman atsv#atsv#spiderman astv#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara headcanon#miguel spiderman#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#smut prompts#smutty#smut
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Could you make a fic with Jake x reader that maybe she is in a relationship with the other two (Marc and Steven don't need to be in the whole fic, just mentioning them maybe?) And Jake at first is rude to her until one day she comes late from work and Jake is covered in blood (not his) from a mission that left him like really bad and he can't stop thinking about it, so the reader helps him (although she's a bit hesitant at first because one day he told her that he didn't want her close), she helps him get a shower, cleans some little cuts on his face, and then when his dressed and ready to sleep, he asks her to stay with him.
I hope it's not too much 😅💖
hii honey!! I love this! so very sorry this is so late. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 @thewinterv
stay a while
jake lockley x f reader
wc || 0.8k
warnings || none? brief mentions of blood
I haven’t wrote for jake before, so I really hope this feels like him
masterlist + rules
taglist
Being in a relationship with Marc and Steven was always very entertaining, never shying away from a dull moment when you shared your time with them. As Jake didn't front as regularly as the other two, you were still foreign to one another, only ever meeting him occasionally. On the very few chances you've met, he was rather hostile towards you, much preferring to keep you at arm's length. You weren't sure if you upset him or offended him in some way, but you couldn't quite figure out what you may have done wrong for him to dislike you.
Returning home from an extra long shift, you pull your keys out of your bag, jingling in the lock before twisting. You open the door, and your eyes immediately land on a very thin trail of blood. Following the blood drips, you see the silhouette of someone hunched over your sink.
"Marc?" you whisper, reaching for the light switch.
Stepping forward, you see a newsboy cap on the counter. A heavy feeling now clouds your stomach. "Jake?" you ask, almost in disbelief.
"What's going on? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" you anxiously blabber, slowly walking towards him.
He grunts in response, yanking the small towel from the hook to dry his swollen and bloodied knuckles.
"That's a white towel," you mumble, watching the fabric fill with small red spots that were sure to stain.
His head snaps over his shoulder towards you, practically glaring at your comment.
"Don't worry, I got more," you awkwardly laugh, reaching into the cupboard for the first aid equipment. "That cut up there looks pretty bad," you start, nodding to the bust piece of skin above his eyebrow. "Let me help you clean it?"
"It's fine," he grumbles, dabbing the towel over it to 'clean' it, instantly wincing at the painful sensation.
"Doesn't seem fine," you say quietly, flicking on the tap and thoroughly washing your hands. "Just-" you say, pouring a small amount of antiseptic onto a cotton ball. "Can I?" you question, hesitantly extending your hand towards his face.
He nods in response.
You watch the way he flinched at your soft, delicate touch, practically cowering away from your comfort. "I'm gonna hurt you," you whisper, lightly blotting around the open skin. "It's okay," you say tenderly, cupping his cheek with your other hand, angling his face downwards as you clean his wound.
He closes his eyes as he melts into your tender touch, finally allowing himself to feel a moment of warmth.
"Okay, some of these are gonna need covering… I think you should have a shower first. Clean yourself up, and I can bandage you up after." you sweetly instruct, sorting through the bag as you search for everything you need for later.
"A shower?" he repeats, looking down at his blood-covered clothes.
"I have a change of clothes for you," you cutely laugh. "They're your exact size too,"
A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his lips, watching you with softened eyes.
"Bathroom is just down here. I'll put a pile of clothes on my bed for afterwards," you smile, leading him down the small hallway. "The controls are easy, but if you need me, call me…. oh wait, also. Clean towels in there," pointing to the cabinet behind the door.
As you turn on your heel, a soft yet firm grip on your arm halts your movements. "Thank you," Jake whispers, wryly grinning.
You sweetly smile. "No problem, take as long as you need,"
Allowing Jake some time alone to recuperate after his clearly intense mission, you make your way back into the kitchen to clean up the mess. Wiping the blood from the floors and counters, throwing the tissues, anything and everything to keep your mind busy.
You notice the quietness from the bathroom down the hall, hearing nothing but a few scuffles and small groans. You collect the first aid equipment, stuffing everything in the bag, walking towards your room. Waiting a couple extra minutes, you knock on the door, waiting patiently to enter.
"Yeah," Jake calls out from behind the door.
"Hi," you say slowly, making your way in, laying the creams and bandages on the bed. "I'll just quickly put these on, then you can get some rest,"
"Okay," he nods, sitting at the edge of the mattress, facing you.
With clean hands, you apply small dots of antiseptic cream on the cut areas, lightly rubbing it in as you gaze at his face, watching the dozen tiny expressions play out. You tear open a plaster, laying it across his temple, covering the bust part of the skin from earlier and gently smoothing the sticky part to his forehead.
"There we go, all better," you smile, kissing your finger and placing it over the fabric. "I'll let you get some sleep," you say somewhat awkwardly, not quite sure if you overstepped a boundary.
"Stay," he whispers, holding your arm to stop you from leaving. "I won't see you for a while. Please stay.”
#jake lockley#jake lockley imagine#jake lockley x you#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley fic#jake lockley fanfiction#jake lockely imagine#jake lockely x you#jake lockely x reader#jake lockely fluff#jake lockley fluff#moon knight#marc spector#steven grant#moon boys
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Aizawa’s sick day
One-shot | Masterlist
Pairing: Aizawa × Reader | Word count: 2,5k
Fandom: BNHA | MHA | Tags: fluffy, reverse comfort, home life, romance, SFW
CW: Sickness, of course (nothing too disturbing). Also: stable relationship, cheesy stuff, married couple dynamic, playful threats and teases. Readers' gender and appearance are not described, but there is a mention of reader being a "wife".
Notes: I've been working a lot lately, and I managed to get myself sick. I went to the EM two times now, and I just got some palliative medicine that didn't do much to the overall issue. I'm still sick. But I'm better than before and will be returning to work tomorrow (I can't afford absence anymore, unfortunately). But that's it.
I hate being sick, as real life doesn't pause to let me rest. So, to help me unwind for a little bit, I wrote this piece to take the focus off my sickness and to flutter my chest by pretending to take care of, at least, a fictional character. I hope you'll enjoy it. Sorry if there's any spelling; it is late, I'm sleepy, and my eyes are burning. Take care, love yall.
08:44 pm
"I'm home." The tired man called as he opened the door and took off his shoes. It has been a long day at work, and Shōta is more than exhausted. Slowly, he made his way down the hall to put the rest of his stuff away and grab a quick shower before dinner.
After taking note that you were not in the living room nor the kitchen, he reached your shared bedroom and pushed the door open, where he met with a smile that caused him to relax instantly after stepping inside.
"Oh! Hey, hun! Welcome back!" You greeted as you folded another piece of laundry, which was still warm from the dryer. Neat piles lined up on the king-sized bed.
"Hey." He replied quietly before walking over to you and pecking your lips. It had been rough lately, and every time he got home late from work, you noticed how increasingly tense he seemed as the days passed.
"I thought you would be home early today." You commented. "Where were you? I was worried."
He sat on the bed next to where you stood, watching as you folded another shirt. Then, he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes as he rested his other hand on his knee.
"I was supposed to, but they needed me for a meeting and kept me late. Sorry I didn't text you." He explains, feeling a slight guilt sting in his chest as he glances at the clothes on the bed. You had to do his chores again.
"I see." You respond quietly, with no resentment in your voice at all. "It's fine. But it is also late, so you should get ready for dinner." You instructed.
Aizawa nodded and stood up before heading into the bathroom to shower, coming back moments later looking entirely drowsy.
"You look so exhausted." Your worried words pull Shōta from his sleepy state, the bed now looking pretty free from the clothes as you put the last pile into a drawer. "Didn't take proper care of yourself today, did you?" You questioned. "Did you eat anything besides applesauce?"
His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you. You know he hates when you call him out like this. But you are right. Today was rough. "Yeah, yes, I know. Sorry. I promise I'll get better." His soft tone had you smiling.
"No need to apologize, baby. I was just worried, that is all." You reassured as you walked toward him, snaking your arms around his waist and holding on tight, pulling him closer against your body. "You okay?" You asked quietly.
"Yeah." He nuzzled your neck. "Just tired." He explained, and you gently ran your hand up and down his back.
The two of you stayed embraced for a few seconds, pulling apart only after your stomach let out its demands, prompting you both to chuckle lightly.
"Sorry, I have not eaten yet." You apologized before inviting him to the dining room, dragging his willing self by the hand.
As he followed behind, you heard him scolding you for your behavior. "I told you to stop waiting for me to have dinner when I do not get home until seven."
You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned the corner. "Sorry, I guess I forgot." You replied as you walked into the kitchen. "And besides, I did not have the appetite to eat alone anyway."
That earned you a soft laugh from the man who walked into the kitchen soon after you, helping you bring the food to the dining table afterward.
And, as you made yourselves comfortable, you two started eating. Small talk filled the air as you avoided both talking about work or the things that could be troubling your husband since dinner was not time for stress.
And this goes both ways, as Shōta knows that this small amount of time after he arrives is all he has with you since he needs to leave for work again before you even wake up the next day.
Not long after, however, you can not help but notice how the dark circles under his eyes looked more purple than you ever saw, and his movements seemed a lot slower than what you were used to;
It worried you. Even though you know the hero and teaching work are naturally wearing, despite his tiredness, he always afforded to act, at least around you, not so worn out.
He had not been sleeping well recently, and you wanted to do something about it; but now was not the time, so you decided against mentioning it to him right now, as you knew it would bother him even further.
But he noticed you staring anyway, and his gaze drifted toward your lips, then back to your eyes. He raised a brow.
"Are you gonna finish those?" You asked, motioning to his half-eaten meal, which he absently turned over repetitively with his utensils. He shrugged. "Maybe later tonight?"
You nodded once in understanding and returned your attention to your plate. "Okay," you said.
He then went back into playing with his food in silence, which you did not mind. You know he was not hungry anymore but was making time to give you company as you finished your meal anyways.
Once you finished, he rinsed the dishes while you dried them, setting them aside. Then, Shōta followed you back into the living room, where he plopped down on the couch.
Before long, you were cuddling together as something mindless passed on the TV screen. And, at some point during the movie, you began yawning, slowly lulling your head onto the shoulder of your partner, while his head would eventually fall forward as sleep threatened to grab hold of either of you.
So, reluctantly you sat up, stretching your back before turning to face Shōta. "Should we head to bed? Or do you want us to stay up here a while longer?" You asked, leaning in slightly, resting a hand on his leg.
He shook his head. "I think it's time for bed."
You nodded and stood up first, extending your hand toward him to help him stand up too. And, with his hand intertwined with yours, you led him back to the bedroom – where he went straight to lie on the bed.
After you were both settled, you wrapped an arm around his torso, nuzzling your head into his chest as he reciprocated the embrace, snuggling closer. Then, he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.
02:51 am
You woke up feeling hot. Well, hot enough for someone who does not bother regard to temperature. It is a bit unusual, and usually, you do not even realize the temperature change when asleep.
You shifted in the grasp of your husband, turning over to your side as you tried, in vain, to cool down before realizing that the overheating you felt was radiating from the man you tangled with to sleep.
A frown immediately appeared on your face while moving your hand to place it over his forehead. Perhaps he was feverish?
Hmm, maybe. You could not tell for sure, but the skin felt a lot warmer to your touch. It did not feel right. So, carefully extracting yourself from the embrace, you walked to the closet and retrieved a thermometer, which you then returned and inserted into his mouth before sitting on the edge of the bed with him.
After a moment, the beeping of the device signaled that it finished testing; you watched as he started waking up a little after you took it out, his eyes fluttering open and landing upon the sight of you – sitting on the bed beside him, watching him cautiously.
He blinked, slowly bringing his hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Hey." He greeted, his voice hoarse.
You gave him a gentle smile. "Hey." You replied, and he glanced back up at you.
"What are you doing?" He asks, squinting slightly in the darkness as if trying his best to decipher your features.
"Doing a little research." You responded. "Feeling alright? No headache?"
He furrowed his brows together. "No, why? Should I?"
You shake your head. "Probably not. But just making sure, you are running a fever, sweetheart." You explained softly, reaching your hand out to grab his. "Come on, let us get you into a cool shower, and then you can rest a little longer, okay?"
He did not argue or question you, even though he seemed reluctant. Instead, he nodded and complied, rising from the bed, taking the offered hand, and following you into the bathroom.
While you reached the bathtub to turn the water on, Shōta quietly took his shirt off, discarding it into the hamper next to the sink.
After you turned around, your gaze fell upon his toned muscles for half a second before landing on his face. His hair was sticking up every which way thanks to the ruffling from sleep, his bangs covering half his face and hiding the dark bags beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted as ever, yet also adorable somehow. However, the more you looked, the more you could tell he was getting sick.
Sighing, you pulled your fingers through your hair, continuing to examine his appearance. You had never seen him sick, nor had you seen him look this exhausted in all the years you were together.
Shōta turned around, noticing you observing his appearance, and raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you worried?" He questioned.
"Well, yes." You answered, still analyzing him.
His lips stretched into a faint smile as he approached you, cupping your cheek with his hand as he peered down at you, giving you an amused expression. "Why?"
"You have been running yourself ragged lately." You answered, leaning into his palm. "And I never saw you sick before. I am worried because, especially now, you can not afford to be weak."
He sighed before pulling you close, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, and placing one last soft kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry. I promise I will be fine." He assured.
"Promise?" You repeated skeptically, staring deep into his eyes, and he chuckled. "Cross my heart."
"Mhm..." you hummed. "I will only believe that if you don't overexert yourself. If you keep worrying me like this, you will become bedridden sooner than you wish."
This time his chuckle was not quiet, and you could hear the whizzing in his chest. "Now, aren't you a good wife?" He teased.
You scoffed at that remark. "Of course I am. I am making sure you do not work yourself till you drop sick!" You retorted.
He gave you a smug grin. "Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head a little. "How mean."
You rolled your eyes in response before staring straight back at him. "But I am serious, Shōta."
"Then I will stop stressing myself and make a good impression on you." He declared, and his playful grin widened, making you chuckle.
"Yeah, that is what I want. Now go wash off the sweat. I will fix you a cup of tea and bring it up. Alright?"
He smiled again, nodding. "Alright."
And as you made your way toward the kitchen, you wondered how you managed to fall for such a selfless bastard.
But you were not complaining.
03:12 am
Aizawa was still immersed in the bathtub when you returned with a glass in hand and medicine in the other. Then, after he emerged his hands from the water, you handed him one of each before leaning down to sit over your forelegs while resting your arms against the edge of the tub.
You watched as he gulped the medicine down with a generous sip of cold tea.
"How do you feel?" You quietly asked as he pulled the glass away from his lips.
He merely gave you a small smile. "Not bad." He replied, his tone sounding slightly less hoarse now that he had drunk the tea. "I don't feel any different than usual. Just tired."
"Okay." You murmured, your eyebrows creasing together a little. "If it gets worse tomorrow, I will take you straight home from work, alright!?"
He nodded. "Okay."
"And I will ask Hizashi to check up on you since I know you won't tell me if it gets worse, after all."
He smirked a little at this, snickering. "That is true. But asking Mic to do that is not necessary." He paused, glancing at you before giving you a soft, small smile.
"Oh, yeah?" You asked.
Shōta nodded. "Yes. If it gets a lot worse, I will call you. I don't want to trouble any more people nor make you worry unnecessarily."
Your eyes softened at that. You know how Shōta hated burdening someone else, even though it would never feel like that to you. But he was willing to set his stubbornness aside for your sake. It flattered you a little, and you could not help but smile.
"Okay, good... so, since you are telling me that, I will try not to worry too much then." You said. He returned your smile with a faint yet truthful one.
"Thank you, though."
"For what?" You inquired in curiosity.
"Being so attentive like that." He said. "I appreciate it."
A faint blush formed on your cheeks as your eyes widened just a tiny bit. Then, the smile returned to your lips. "No problem, Sho. I care for you. And I love seeing you well."
His eyes softened at your words. "I know you do." He agreed quietly before opening his mouth to speak again but was cut short by a yawn escaping his lips.
"There you go again, falling asleep without meaning for it at all." You chuckled. Then, you reached forward and brushed the stray hairs from his forehead before letting your hand fall back onto the rim of the tub; while watching him intently for a moment. He smiled at you again.
After a few moments of silence, his face finally showed some signs of discomfort, and you frowned slightly. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you need me t-"
"It’s fine." He insisted, cutting you off, before taking your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, effectively stopping you from finishing that sentence. "Just tired. It happens sometimes."
"Oh." You breathed, taking in what he said before sighing softly, slowly beginning to rise back to your feet. "Okay, then. I will grab some clean clothes for you now. Take your time resting up. If you need anything, ask me, alright?"
He smiled gratefully at you. "Okay, thanks, babe."
Your heart clenched at the sound of him saying those precious words; they meant everything to you. They always would. He knew how important they were; and how much you cherished them.
Because, despite his cold surface, he never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated.
So you hoped you would never fail at that too.
Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests.
#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa x y/n#aizawa x you#bnha aizawa#my hero academia aizawa#aizawa x reader#mha aizawa#bnha fanfiction#bnha headcannons#mr aizawa#aizawa shōta#aizawa sensei#aizawa shouta#aizawa fluff#shoto aizawa#aizawa headcanons#reverse comfort#boku no hero x reader#bnha#my hero acedamia
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Skz reacting to your mouth piercing
pairing: skz ot!8 × gn!Reader (individually)
request: could you do a skz reaction to the reader getting angel fangs, like the piercing of it's alright.
warning: maybe a little bit cringey but what can i do
a/n: even though i said "mouth piercing", this can be read as angel fangs as well! i just changed the title so it'd be easier to understand. I wrote a few things about the angel fangs specifically as well. hope you like it nevertheless!
Chan
SUCH A SIMP
When you first told him that you wanted to get a piercing, he was mentally preparing himself to simp over you
But once you actually got it???
So in love with how you look
Besides that, he would help to take care of the piercing until it healed
Always reminding you of what to do and how to do it
"I can't get over of how great you look. Does it feel okay? You're not in pain right now, are you?"
Lee Know
Shiny eyes
Open mouth
Staring at your lips like a kid who's excited
Doesn't say anything for a while
But you know he loved it
The type to be more addicted to your kiss
Would even think of piercing himself after all of this
(ngl i think his favourite type of piercing would be angel fangs, so if that's the case, he is so head over heels for you)
"Can I kiss you again?
Changbin
Huge smirk
And infinite compliments
As long as my man can talk, he'd be complimenting you
The typa bf to take a picture of you like this and set it as his wallpaper
I feel like he'd want to be there while you get the piercing
But if not possible, he'd be waiting for you while being so excited
Would tell everyone how great you look with this new change
Your biggest fan
"Look how great you look smiling in this pic. It's the third time I change my wallpaper this week, because of you."
Hyunjin
*hyunjin's voice" "sexy, hard sexy"🫸
Fr tho, my man's holding back from kissing you so hard
Wondering how he survived all those years before seeing you like this
*flashback to the tongue piercing during trainee day's rumours*
Lowkey thinks about getting a tongue piercing so you guys could "match" as well
(And if we're talking about the angel fangs, he'd paint it for sure. It's cliche but it's true)
Han
Let's face it
He was the one who suggested it
He'd be like "good morning my love. Y'know what ? You'd look amazing with a mouth piercing"
And he's in shock
Positive typa shock
Deadass stared at your lips for a whole minute before saying anything
And when he does say something, every sentence he can form is a compliment towards you
"You look so good"
"I know Ji, you said that a few times already."
"No, you don't get it. You look SO good."
Felix
Such a simp for you!!
He wouldn't know what to do
You'd be talking and he'd be like
looking at your mouth
SO fixated
He's hypnotized
and 100% in love btw
"Felix, are you even listening?"
"Hm? Oh, sorry sorry. It's just, you look... beautiful. Really, really beautiful"
Seungmin
He's trying so hard to keep his posture lmao
but he's freaking out over how amazing you look
Every now and then you catch him lost in the little piece of metal, admiring you with heart eyes
Similar to Chan, he'd also take care of you to keep manutence of a piercing beforehand
I'm 100% but he's so bf material
(talking bout the angel fangs, I believe he'd be the biggest fan of it, he can't even hide it)
"You look even prettier somehow. I don't know how you do it"
I.N
He's dying to kiss you
He needs to kiss you and feel your lips right now in this moment
And he loves how the piercing makes you smile even brighter
He's giggling so much lmao
He swears he could spend a whole afternoon looking at your mouth
Probably will do it anyways
And if he didn't know about the piercing before, like a surprise, he will be so 😯
He's so devoted to you
"I'm telling you, seeing you like this was the best thing that happened to me the whole day"
feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
dividers by @cafekitsune
#celi headcanon#tumblr stop deleting this please i beg you#skz fluff#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids soft hours#skz x reader#skz#skz x you#stray kids x reader#bang chan#bang chan fluff#changbin#changbin fluff#lee know#lee know fluff#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#i.n fluff#felix#felix fluff#han#han fluff
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irritating interests
in which; a rivalry becomes a romance
requested by @phxntomsdusk; wilbur x reader, enemies to lovers, highschool tropes. wilbur slowly falling for reader and becoming worried when they don’t show up to school until he finally confesses?? (not the full request)
about; explicit language, silent pining, rivalry, enemies to lovers, nervousness, a few kisses, rude behaviour, competitiveness, yelling, purposefully lowercase, use of y/n
word count; i wrote this on mobile and don't wanna try to find the word count. probably 1k, around there
celebrate here;
all you wanted to do was get through this last lesson of the day and go home, and try at a somewhat peaceful day, but wilbur clearly didn't know 'leaving someone alone' meant. he was watching your every move with caution, more or less, adoration.
"wilbur! please! i've had enough of your bullshit!" you yelled in the hallway, attracting the attention of other students. he'd walked out of class a few minutes after you and approached you, waving his test paper in your face, a clear '100%' written in red pen in the corner.
he knew something was finally wrong when a tear slipped down your face after your exclamation, and he chased after you down the hallway, tripping over his shoelaces.
"y/n! y/n, wait! listen to me!" his voice was desperate now. you had never heard that tone in his voice, and you felt bad. you really did. but you'd rather not give him an ounce more of your attention. your last class wasn't with him, thankfully, but he wasn't letting down the fact that he's made you upset.
you get to the bathrooms and lock yourself in a stall, hoping that he'll give up and leave you alone. you heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, but you never heard footsteps leaving.
'but he can't skip geography. he loves geography.'
and you can't skip your class. your parents will kill you if they find out.
opting to leave the bathrooms, you speed walk to your class, dodging anything wilbur had to say with a "wilbur, i'm gonna be late!" or a "shut up!". reaching your classroom, you place your bag on the floor and rest your face in your hands.
class came and went like a breeze, and you were now sitting in your bedroom, scanning through piles of homework and eating a snack. your last class had sent you home with a fuck-ton of homework, all due by halfway through the next week.
11pm rolled around, and you were utterly exhausted, and having a shower in the morning sounded way easier than now. wrapped up in your blankets, you drifted into a comfortable sleep.
---
you woke up needing to vomit, but not from sickness, but more so nervousness. wilbur's episode yesterday had shaken you around a little bit, and you did not like the thought of dealing with him on a friday.
you open your phone, remembering you had wilbur's number, for some reason. you were about to open his contact and tell him to leave you alone but you were interrupted by a text from him.
'hey y/n. i'm sorry for yesterday. meet me after school at the park down the road, if you can. again, sorry.'
'wilbur. can we do it tomorrow. i don't want to deal with anything today'
he read your message and you assumed he left for school.
---
he stood around all day, hoping to see your face pop up at least once but it never did. he had resorted to constantly checking his phone and ripping pieces of paper from his books, scribbling little messages on them, and shoving them in his pants pocket.
he was a mess, to say the least.
he was worried about someone he knew didn't care about him when they didn't show up to school. how pathetic can he get? he was never worried when you stayed home sick or when you went on a holiday, but this. this was different.
this was now. this is when he has finally gained feelings. this was the present time.
---
you ran down to the park, having completely forgotten that wilbur had messaged you yesterday after school saying he was happy to meet up today. you were struggling against the wind, your hair in your face and your loose band tee stuck to your body.
wilbur wasn't much better than you. he was picking at his fingernails, chewing on his fingers and flipping his phone around on his hands. he was a mess, yet again.
you spotted him sitting on a bench under a tree. he looked just as bad as you. well, a little bit better. he had actually put thought into his appearance. you showed up expecting to be able to leave within five minutes.
however, you couldn't have been further from the truth. two hours have passed since you sat down next to him, and majority of that time was spent with wilbur muttering short, breathless apologies to you. you'd said a few things, but now you were stuck with a prominent blush staining your face.
it fell silent over the both of you, staring out into the small pond, smiling at the ducks chewing at a few bread crumbs.
before he spoke up.
"i like you." he avoided your gaze.
"wilbur, what?"
"i like you. maybe that's why I find it hard to talk to you in any other way than pointless jokes. i didn't realise i was hurting you because i was so worried that my feelings would somehow get out to you." he admitted, an identical blush coating his face, making you lightly laugh at him.
"you pissed me off a lot though. and you thought i was stupid. and that i wasn't as smart as you. did you mean any of that?" you were worrying now.
"no, no no, no. i never meant that. again, i was too worried about my feelings for you that i completely disregarded how you felt." he quickly said, shutting his mouth as fast as he could.
this time, however. you didn't laugh. you didn't snicker. you didn't tease him.
you learnt over and rested on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. you press the same kiss to his nose, and then finally to his lips. he looked funny, lipgloss slightly smudged on his face, but at least he wasn't an ass about it.
he pressed more kisses to your lips, and sealing your fates with a long, warm kiss.
he wouldn't be teasing you anytime soon.
#200 follower event#event piece#writing event#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur#wilbur soot imagine#wilbur x reader#wilbur soot fluff#wilbur fluff#wilbur soot comfort#enemies to lovers#highschool au
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Oh no sorry not the isekai AU. The AU where due to circumstances each of the Bridgerton’s lost their loves. An example I think Daphne lost Simon because she was too late to the dual and Anthony shot him in the shoulder. Simon left the country after that. All the Bridgerton’s lost their partners in similar ways (Anthony married Edwina and Kate left to go back to India, Penelope vanished after Colin found out she was Lady Whistledown etc.). Then somehow the siblings traveled back in time to Daphne’s entrance to society. I was thinking what if instead of keeping a cool head about everything and thinking about how they are going to approach their true loves slowly instead the siblings just snap.
I'm so sorry anon but I really don't know which au this is. It sounds like a good au, but if I wrote it out I can't find it. I have the vaguest guess but im unsure if it was one of mine or someone else's, but I have the vaguest memory of an ask that included a part that said Simon gifting Daphne a piece of jewelry that was actually an heirloom passed down to all Duchesses of Hastings before he left England but she was getting married to the prince instead. Again I don't know if that one was mine or someone else's, I feel like it might be @thekatebridgerton but I'm not 100% sure.
But we can start a new one!
So let's start with the bad endings.
Saphne: For this one I'm thinking the duel happened just a bit earlier. Anthony and Benedict knew that Daphne would go to Colin to get any information so they purposely gave him the wrong time for the duel. This led to Daphne arriving after Simon losing the duel and getting shot in the shoulder. Daphne tried to chase after him but her brothers dragged her home instead. Per their agreement Simon left the country after that. Daphne did end up getting married to the prince but she was never truly happy in that marriage, she was content at best with a few moment of happiness with her children here and there. She never did fall in love with the prince, and moving so far from her family did make things harder at times but like most things in her life Daphne learned to adapt to the cards that were handed to her.
Kathony: Anthony and Kate could never let themselves stop putting duty first. Anthony could also never get over his fear of dying young. In the end Anthony had married Edwina and Kate had left back to India. During their marriage Edwina and Anthony were cordial at best but when Edwina heard of her sister leaving a part of her blamed herself and another part blamed Anthony. They both did their duty and had one son, but after that they both came to an agreement where they would find pleasure and possibly happiness outside the marriage. So long as they were discreet. Edwina had met her true love in one scholarly Mr. Bagwell who she would later remarry once she was widowed. Anthony threw himself even further into the role as the viscount, though there were times he would look while ridding to see if a familiar rider would appear out of the mist just like she did all those years ago. Kate on her side did return to India and cut contact from her family. She bounced around from governess job to governess job, keeping herself busy so she does not dwell on thoughts of the past, and people she loves but would prefer not to remember for her own emotional sake.
Benophie: The news of Sophie's arrest had been brought to Benedict's attention later that day. Had he been a little bit faster, or had the news got to him just a little bit sooner, he would have been there when Posy took the blame for the item Sophie was said to have stolen. Araminta, who was losing control over both Sophie and Posy did not like that and both ended up getting sent to Australia where they stayed after their sentence was done. While they could have gone back to England if they raised the money for it neither wanted to risk facing Araminta again. They ended up changing their names when starting over. Benedict always kept a close eye on any news of former convicts returning to England. Praying any of them will lead him back to Sophie.
Polin: Things were getting heated on both sides of Penelope's life. The hunt for Lady Whistledown continued, becoming even more intense. More guards were haunting the print shop where she used to go, and she has heard more than one whisper of spies keeping eyes out in ballrooms. Meanwhile as Penelope someone had found out about her Irish Catholic heritage from Portia's side. Prudence and Philippa were spared due to them being married already and Felicity was still young enough they could hide her away until it blew over but Penelope and Portia took the hardest blow. Despite the fact that Portia converted years ago for her survival and Penelope was never raised catholic. To be honest she should not have been that surprised when Colin finally caught her in that church, dressed as a maid. They argued, screamed at one another, which turned into a very intense kiss. After Colin said he needed to think. Penelope had thought he hated her now and surely he would turn her in? Colin legit just needed a moment to think, he was given a lot of information in one day, and he was already protective over Penelope when news other family broke out, now it was just intensified. He was going to propose marriage the next day. What Colin did not know that the column Penelope was going to send out would be her last one. She later disappeared into the night, and he spent years looking all over the world for her, chasing down any lead, not knowing that she had hidden herself away in America.
Philoise: After her conversation with Anthony, Eloise lets her fear of commitment win and decides to return to London without marrying. Phillip takes the rejection gracefully, quoting that he did invite her to see if they suit. They did not, and he was not going to push her. Eloise's heart broke, though, when the twins asked why she was leaving tears in their eyes. In London, life continued on, Eloise found things to occupy her time, movements that she wanted to help move forward, and while she enjoyed pushing for change, she still felt her life was rafher lonely. She was never truly happy in London, never was, and often found herself itching to run just like when she was younger. Then, one day, many years later, during a society event, she would rather not be at a Sir Crane was announced. Eloise was taken aback because her Sir Crane wouldn't be caught dead in London. And it wasn't her Sir Crane, rather it the son of her Sir Crane. Oliver didn't say much to Eloise but did stop by to call on her the next day. He gave her a bouquet of medow cranesbill. "A final gift from my father," Oliver told her.
Franchael: After the death of John, both Francesca and Michael had mental breakdowns. All Michael could think to do was run while Francesca dug her heels in at Kilmartin estate and kept it running. When they reunited years later, both refused to talk about John and what happened to their friendship, despite the fact that's what they needed to do. Being reunited, Francesca became aware of this sexual tension that has been simmering between her and Michael. Still upset that her husband and unborn child were taken from her, she found herself wanting to walk down a wicked path. Well widows are more ignored by society so why doesn't she have some fun? She falls into bed with Michael. They still don't talk. Not only is Francesca discovering her physical intrest in Michael but some feelings she rather ignore are emerging too. They still don't talk. Francesca discovers that Michael has malaria and has attacks from it every so often. They still won't talk. One of these attacks ends up taking Michael's life and Francesca ends up right back where she was all those years ago. The man she loves is dead and she's pregnant. Only this time Francesca has to hide away, but her baby makes it. Thanks to Janet and Helen they organize papers so the boy is considered legitimate and the new earl of Kilmartin. Francesca loves her son sometimes she wishes his father were there so she could tell him she loved him too.
All the siblings have regrets in their lives by the time they pass on. None of them ever really found that love match Violet used to describe what she had with Edmund. Oh, they had their great loves, despite how fleeting they were. Some did marry, some chose to remain unwed. But none of them expected to wake up on their past selves bodies. After poking around they discovered the year is 1813, Daphne is in her on third year in the marriage mart and the Duke of Hastings has just passed, leaving his title to his only son.
Several thoughts hit at once.
Simon was due to return to England soon. Kate would follow a year later. Sophie was currently trapped with Araminta. Penelope was debuting this year. Phillip was currently at Cambridge. Michael was in the army.
Their loves were so close. They lost them once but never again.
#look if i'm coming up with bad endings i'm gonna go with the worst case scenario my mind can think of that don't fall into certain areas#gotta give a reason for them to snap#I'm unsure for the others if someone wants to do their bad endings be my guest#bad endings au#second change au#bridgerton#polin#kathony#benophie#philoise#franchel#saphne
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"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"
I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*
TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.
Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock.
“Bad day.”
When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been.
“I’m not…easy…to be with.”
“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”
You three had laughed at that at the time.
The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.
They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.
“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”
That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…
“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”
Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes.
“Baby? Is everything ok?”
“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”
Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down.
“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”
“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”
“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”
You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment.
“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”
The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would.
Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom.
Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama.
You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you.
Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall.
When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed.
“What happened?”
Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air.
“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”
They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”
Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed.
“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”
“I-I’m sorry, mama.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”
They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.
“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears.
Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears.
“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”
“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”
“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”
“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”
“What about…about the neighbors?”
“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”
You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room.
“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”
Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap.
“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”
Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears.
“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”
“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.
Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf.
“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”
Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head.
“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”
“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”
“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”
“I still have no idea who that is.”
After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor.
“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room.
“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well.
“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”
“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”
When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend.
As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally.
“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”
“No, it’s not.”, you whisper.
Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#steddie drabble#steddie au#mental health#mental health is important#you are not alone#you are loved#you matter#you are enough
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Can I please request the twisted wonderland dorm leaders with the nezuko reader
And how would they react when they find out why they were a muzzle.
Them being the official sleeping buddy of Leona. them giving headpats to riddle and Idia to comfort them. Them and Kalim being their sunshine selfs. and Azul wanting to use their ability to steal because he knows nobody can be mad at them. Vil having the time of their life dolling them up
(I'm so sorry if I sent many requests I love your work so much)
Stahp 🤭… low-key bout to cry. *gives a classic Nezuko headpat*
Also, I love receiving requests. You’re just a loyal customer. And I used your request from the Obey Me! Dateables as a guideline of the headcanons I’m writing here.
Riddle Rosehearts
He is very shocked to find out you are a demon. He’s read much about them, but he never expected them to look so… cute? You seemed so innocent, and it took him by surprise. But, you seem to have more common sense than some of his fellow Heartslabyul members so he holds nothing against you.
The fact that you are naturally friendly comforts him because somebody isolated him his whole childhood. He finds it very hard to ever be mad at you. You once walked by him in the hall and he greeted you, but you simply gave him a head pat as a greeting. He wasn’t mad, more embarrassed and hopelessly in love.
When he asked about your muzzle, he asked about it in the most polite way possible. You wrote on a piece of paper that it was to control your urges around so many people. That did scare him a bit, but he was glad that you were taking measures to control yourself.
When he found out you could shrink, you were tending to the hedgehogs. You shrank so as to seem smaller to them and it worked. He damn near screamed when he saw you grow back to regular size, but he recovered quickly.
One day he was yelling at Ace and Deuce for getting in trouble again. You rushed into the scene without your muzzle and attacked Riddle. You didn’t do him serious harm, you were able to snap out of it before anything too horrible happened. Later you explained that you saw your deceased family in Ace and Deuce and you sought to protect them from any harm.
He also learns that you regain your stamina through sleep instead of consuming humans, which he is grateful for. He will help you through any questions you have on the homework. He can’t get mad about it: you are much more powerful than he is, plus it’s an excuse to spend time with you.
He would love to help you control your urges, so he helps you practice by using his magic to play both offense and defense. He uses his unique magic to gain a few seconds to grab your muzzle if you get carried away.
One day, you are seen without your muzzle and he is so proud of you. He will invite you over to tea and will love hearing you speak freely rather than writing. He will even let you eat the first tart at your first unbirthday party without your muzzle! However, you always have it on hand if you ever get an inkling that something will go wrong.
Leona Kingscholar
Has this guy ever been surprised? He’s more intrigued than anything. He also doesn’t call you herbivore. He will say that you are adorable. You’re kind of absent-minded at times, but he can overlook it. You don’t cause him too much trouble, so you’re cool with him.
When you meet his nephew, he will be more alert. However, you are very kind and playful towards Cheka. You will gladly volunteer to babysit in place of Leona, and Cheka is all for it. However, you sometimes headpat Leona himself as a greeting. He gets a bit annoyed, but he understands that it’s mainly because you can’t speak with your muzzle.
Speaking of your muzzle, he finds it oppressive. As a beastman, he doesn’t like muzzles for obvious reasons. However, he understands that it might be different for a demon. He’s glad you aren’t going around eating people.
He found out you could change your size when you were playing around with his nephew. You had him on your shoulders and you would grow and shrink so he could reach stuff (like the door frame). As long as Cheka isn’t bothering his naps, he doesn’t really care.
Ace and Deuce once got into trouble with the Savanaclaw kids, and it was Hell in Twisted Wonderland. Ace’s big mouth just couldn’t shut up for 5 seconds. He was trash-talking the Savanaclaw students that just so happened to be right behind him. That’s where you come in:
You jumped into action right away. You saw that the Savanaclaw students would easily overpower your friends, so you tore off your muzzle and attacked. Leona has never been so surprised. Before you were able to do any immense damage, Crowley was on scene and got you under control. Once you had your muzzle back on, you were back to your loving and friendly self. You later explain that you see Ace and Deuce as your family that was killed by demons.
When he learns that you regain stamina through sleep alone, he volunteers to watch over you while you nap. And by watch over you, I really mean be your cuddle buddy. He will hold you in his arms and you will nap for hours.
Savanaclaw is a great place to train your powers. Leona will gladly hold your muzzle in case something happens, but he will make his dorm train against you because you are a great opponent to train with. Tbh, he finds it hot that you can take out that many guys by yourself.
When you are confident enough to go a day without your muzzle, he will walk you to your classes as well as attend his own. He wants to be nearby in case something happens. You told him (he was surprised when he heard you speak) that you kept your muzzle on you in case an incident occurred. He won’t admit it, but he is very proud of you.
Azul Ashengrotto
He’s freaked out when he found out you’re a demon. Then he finds out about your abilities, as well as your non-existent streak for eating people. He still remains cautious, but you seem to be easily manipulatable.
You easily win your way into everyone’s good sides with your friendly and kind disposition. If he could get you under a contract, then everyone would surely follow. That, or get you to come to the Mostro Lounge every so often. He will find it odd that you give headpats rather than a hand wave, but you are just a naturally affectionate person so he doesn’t mind.
Going back to how he wants you to come to the Mostro Lounge, he has this elaborate plan set up… until he finds out about why you wear your muzzle. It is rather unfortunate, but he would rather not be eaten. He stays up at night wondering what your voice sounds like.
He found out you could change your size when you tried to give Floyd a head pat. He was just too tall, so you grew temporarily. The trio were all shocked, but Floyd was a happy eel that day. Azul was very interested in this ability. It must be very convenient for you.
Once, your friends were being terrorized by Floyd’s squeezes. They weren’t in true danger, Floyd was just bored. However, you barged in like the FBI and tackled the eel. You didn’t have your muzzle on, and you would have caused serious damage if his arms weren’t so long. Azul walked in after hearing the commotion and used his magic to hold you temporarily so he could put your muzzle back on. You apologized and said that you saw Ace and Deuce as people you needed to protect.
When Azul learns that you regain stamina through naps, he will offer (for free) to look after you. He will bring you classwork you missed as well as tell you stories of the sea to help you sleep better. Jade and Floyd know to not disturb you unless they want to face docked pay checks as well as your wrath.
He’s a bit too busy to help you train, but he will be there if you need any help emotionally or mentally. He sometimes invites you over so as to train his dorm as well as let Floyd go haywire. Think of it as payment for destroying the Lounge while ‘protecting your friends’.
When he finds you going without your muzzle one day, he is concerned. You explained (he found your voice heavenly) that you were confident in your ability to control yourself for at least a day, but you had your bamboo muzzle on you just in case. He was very proud of you, he treated you to a study date at the lounge.
Kalim Al-Asim
You’re so cute! He doesn’t really care if you’re a demon. He’s the least judgmental person in NRC, so that’s a given. Jamil advises him to be cautious though. However, he doesn’t really listen to Jamil…
You’re basically the same person. You’re both friendly rays of sunshine who are naturally affectionate and happy. You’re sometimes absent-minded but so is he! He loves your headpats and will give you headpats in return. Jamil panics because now there’s two of them!
He once asked about your muzzle over dinner and Jamil was about to reprimand him when you wrote on a piece of paper that you were still a demon and had yet to control your urges. Jamil was freaked out but Kalim was determined to help you gain control.
He found out you could shrink and grow when you were playing around. You were marching around while growing and shrinking and it was very amusing to see Kalim try and ‘imitate’ it. You gone to Cinnabon lately? Cuz y’all being too much of a cinnamon roll
Once, he invited you and Grim over to enjoy the wonders Scarabia had to offer. However, when he shoved crackers into Grim’s mouth, you growled at him. He retrieved his hand and looked like a hurt puppy, and Jamil pulled Kalim behind him. Once you calmed down and made sure Grim was okay, you explained that you have an urge to protect Grim.
When Kalim learns that you nap a lot, he will be sad that it means less time to hang out with you, but he will definitely cuddle with you when he can! He will bring your classwork to you, but he won’t be much help to you. You both tend to get distracted until Jamil interferes.
He will help you train via subjecting his dorm to fierce hours of non-stop working. It was a win-win situation in his eyes, but he was upset that his dorm-mates were easily defeated. He will even train his magic by going through beginner sparring with you.
When he sees you without your muzzle, his eyes become hearts. You were just so gorgeous! Your voice sounded so nice! He followed you around all day until classes started, but after the bell rang he would be right next to you. He was so happy about your progress and he couldn’t help but throw a party for you (this time, Jamil didn’t complain because he knew how hard you worked)!
Vil Schoenheit
He has mixed feelings about you: you’re so cute, but you’re also a demon who could eat him at a moment’s notice. He will keep his guard up around you, but other than that you don’t cause much trouble.
Little by little, you break down that wall of his and you let him dress you up. You being his little doll whenever you both have free time is what he uses to de-stress after a long day. He’s happy that you so willingly let him do whatever he wants to your face and hair, as well as willingly go into the bathroom to change into an outfit he selected.
While he was dressing you up, he asked about your muzzle since the green of the bamboo didn’t fit well with the outfit he selected. You told him that you were still a demon and had trouble controlling yourself around so many humans, and it shocked him. So what did he do? Designed muzzles to go with your outfits!
He doesn’t appreciate your headpats since it ruins his hair, but he does appreciate the sentiment behind it. You give headpats to everyone as a greeting, and he’s glad that you have that personal connection with him, but please just wave. Mans took so long on his hair and he doesn’t want it to get messed up.
He found out you could shrink when an article of clothing didn’t quite fit you since you were a bit too small for it. Then you just grew so that you fit it better. He was quite surprised, but happy that you could model more outfits for him. However, it does get quite awkward when he asks you to shrink or grow.
Once, Vil forced Epel to do his skin care routine and the latter was just not having it today. He was kicking and screaming. You barged in and tackled Vil. He noticed that you didn’t have your muzzle but instead you were trying to snap at him. Epel quickly used a spell to push you away so that Vil could get his pen and hold you in place. You later explained that you had a strong urge to protect Epel from any imminent danger and you couldn’t help but act on that impulse.
Vil isn’t very happy with your sleep schedule, but he understands that you have to otherwise you might resort to eating humans, and that isn’t good at all. So, he brings you your work and will gladly talk you through anything you need help with.
Exercising is very good for your health, so Vil will gladly help you gain control over your demonic urges. He will grab Rook and have him help as well in your training. You make a bunch of progress and you gain more control over your abilities as well as your reactions.
One day, you feel confident enough to go at least one day without your muzzle on, and Vil is right there with you every step of the day. He will walk with you to your classes and check on you after the bell rings and he will invite you to sit with him during lunch. He is so proud of you, and he will reward you with a nice date.
Idia Shroud
This mans is so shy around you. He doesn’t really care that you are a demon (he’s seen so many anime with demons and so he’s not phased by it). You are just his polar opposite, and he’s very anti-social.
He likes that you are very kind towards him, though. You understand that he is very anxious around people, so you are very patient. You gain a good bond with Ortho and it makes Idia happy. He does like your headpats, but he is not used to physical affection. However, he deals with it for you since you can’t speak with your muzzle. After a while, he finds it comforting whenever you give him a headpat.
Speaking of, it’s Ortho who asks about it. Idia was just there in the room as well. You write that you have trouble controlling yourself around so many humans, and that sends Idia into a frenzy because he was human himself. You then have to explain to him that because of the muzzle, you can’t do any serious damage.
He found out you could shrink when Idia shyly asked you to help with upgrading Ortho. You had smaller hands than he did, after all. You shrank even more so that the size of your hands wouldn’t get in the way. He was shocked and almost dropped something, but he quickly recovered.
One time, Ortho went outside to run errands for Idia when he was dragged into trouble with Ace, Deuce, and Grim. They got in a fight with another bunch of students and it was about to be a brawl. Then you charged with the demon blood in you. That was one of the few times Idia has ever been outside. He rushed over and put your muzzle over your mouth to prevent you from doing anything too horrible. You later told him that you attacked because Ortho was in danger.
He doesn’t mind that you sleep a lot. You actually look very cute when you sleep, and he means that in the most adoring way. Sometimes he will sleep next to you, but mostly he’s playing video games. He will help you on school work if you need anything, but other than that he’s kinda just like ‘mood’.
Idia would love to build some robots that you could train with, and you will be able to help him by demonstrating what you can do already. He won’t personally partake in training, but he is glad that he can do something for you in your journey to gaining control.
One day, you go without your muzzle and Idia will willingly join you for lunch in the cafeteria. He will start panicking, but he is able to hear your voice trying to comfort him as you give him the usual headpats. After school, he will reward you with a movie night and all the sweets you could ever want.
Malleus Draconia
He’s not very shocked that you are a demon. He finds you to be very cute, though. He’s not intimidated by you, if you couldn’t tell. He’s very confident in his ability to overpower you, plus he’s not human.
He loves your friendly personality. It’s a stark contrast compared to what he’s used to, but it’s a very welcome difference. He appreciates how you’re not intimidated by him. He also loves your headpats. Usually, no one would dare look his way, but here you are giving him headpats as a greeting. Sebek hates it, but Malleus glares at him.
He asks about your muzzle when you were on your nightly walk. You bring a notepad in case something needs to be said, so you are prepared. You ‘told’ him that since there were so many humans at NRC, you find it hard to control yourself from consuming a human. He doesn’t judge since it’s something out of your control, but he would love to hear your voice more often.
He found out you could change your size when you were invited to the Diasomnia dorm and you were demonstrating all the things you could do. You would go up to Lilia and shrink to his size, to Silver and grow to his size, to Sebek and grow to his size (he yelled at you), and finally to Malleus and grow to his size (minus the horns). For once, Malleus wasn’t the tallest person in the room.
One day, after classes, Ace was going on and on about how Sebek was a ‘teacher’s pet’ and a ‘goody two-shoes’ and the knight showed up at that exact moment. Now, Sebek started yelling at Ace and Deuce and Grim, who were all yelling back. You, not knowing better besides the fact that Sebek is now yelling at your close friends, attacked. You tore off your muzzle so you could try and scare him even more. The young knight was taken off-guard and wasn’t given any chance to recover.
Lilia’s ears caught onto Sebek’s distress and the rest of the group went to go save him. Malleus saw that you pinned Sebek to the ground and tried to get him to stop squirming. You were raising your fist to knock him out, but Malleus grabbed hold of you and pulled you off of Sebek. You later explained that Sebek started yelling at Ace and Deuce, and you got the overwhelming urge to defend your ‘family’. Malleus completely understood everything: he’s a dragon, so he also has those protective urges.
He’s sad that you tend to sleep a lot since that leaves less time to spend with you, but he decides that it is better than going around and consuming humans to regain stamina. Since he doesn’t need much sleep, it’s mostly lying next to you and enjoying your presence as well as making sure nothing happens to you while you are so vulnerable. He will gladly bring you your work and help you catch up since it means he spends more time with you.
He loves training with you. He will volunteer his knights to train with you as a dorm activity. It will help them in the Spelldrive tournaments, and for the future. He personally loves being able to go all-in without fearing for your safety.
One day, he notices that you are walking around without your muzzle and he has that child-like eagerness to hear your voice. He will escort you to and from your classes and he will invite you to sit with him during lunch. He doesn’t want to spend one second without being by your side.
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