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sailoryooons · 3 months

Text

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.

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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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beardedjoel · 9 months

Text

new addiction

boss!joel x f!reader one shot collection | part two

summary: you’ve been fantasizing about your boss, but when he leaves you a mysterious note to meet him after work hours, everything changes.

warnings: 18+! MDNI! non-apocalypse au, boss!joel is a lil mean but not too mean, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, spit kink, size kink kinda, panty stealing? does that need a tag idk, this is a filthy nasty fic and i love it

word count: 4k

a/n: basically just a shamless one shot of joel being your boss and you getting to fuck him, this is not my most proof read work i’ve ever posted but i hope you all like it! inspired by the new taylor swift song “i can see you” it’s literally my religion right now

You feel the crinkle of the paper in your hands another time, staring down at it as if the words on the page are going to change any time soon. You read over the simple phrasing, almost wanting to trace your fingers over the inking just to check that it’s truly real.

my office

6pm

You’ve been working for Mr. Miller - Joel, he told you to call him, but old habits die hard - for a little over four months now. You’d always been taught to refer to any person of authority this way, so it was taking some getting used to to just call him Joel.

This has been the longest four months of your life, mostly due to the man in question - Joel fucking Miller, your boss, the man responsible for your livelihood, the man you absolutely should not be pining over. How you can stop lusting after him is beyond you when he looks like that - his dark hair has grown out a bit since you started, brown curls flecked with gray that match his beard traveling down his neck now. Curls you dream of sinking your hands into and tugging in the heat of the moment every single day. Every time his dark brown eyes catch yours during conversation, you have to fight your mind to stay on track. Watching his lips move, wondering what they’d feel like on yours, on any part of your body. It’s been completely mind bending, the attraction you feel for him.

It all started a few weeks ago, when you started to wonder if the attraction was mutual. At first, it was a sidelong glance that lasted a bit too long here and there, then a few times where he brushed his body a little too close to yours, and you’d feel the heat of it linger long after he was gone. You could scarcely breathe when he got that close to you, a few times he’d hovered behind you at your desk to look at something on the computer with you and you wondered how you weren’t combusting, flames dancing across your skin. The moment you’d felt his hot breath on your neck, you fought hard not to shudder, and when one slipped by, you cursed yourself, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed. You’d thought maybe he hadn’t, but he suggested as he walked away that maybe you get a sweater to wear inside if you were so cold.

Fucking asshole.

He had to know the effect he was having on you. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he was flirting in his own, restrained way. The most you’d gotten out of him was when he put one of his large, my god, so large, hands on your lower back as he’d breezed past you in the small, cramped employee break room to get to the coffee machine.

“‘Scuse me, doll,” he’d said gruffly as he passed, and you nearly choked upon hearing the little pet name from him. Doll… you’d rolled the word around in your mind the entire rest of the day, amazed you could get any work done.

It was a small office - just a little, rented space to run his contracting business out of, and you’d been hired on to do any kind of admin work, really. There wasn’t any kind of official job title, you’d just been needed to tend to the books, appointments, and making sure everything was in order. It wasn’t a bad gig, not your dream job by any means, but now that you’d fallen deeply into your infatuation with your boss, of all people, it was making it hard to want to leave.

And if you’re honest with yourself, you should want to find a new job - Joel can be, well, an asshole, to put it mildly. He doesn’t have time for bullshit, and he makes that perfectly clear to everyone in his vicinity. All the employees at the construction sites and office do revere him, and know he’s one of the best in Austin to learn from and have on your resume as far as contracting goes. On his good days, however, he really is a pleasure to have around, and you relish in the times you get to see his warm smile and hear him laugh at one of his employees busting his balls. On those days, you can see the speck of hope that keeps the people around him in his life.

Joel typically stops in at least once a day before rushing off to check on things at his job sites, and sometimes you do worry he’s wearing himself too thin. He comes in looking exhausted some days, snapping easily and drinking copious amounts of coffee. But you have to constantly remind yourself that’s not for you to worry about - you aren’t his wife, his girlfriend, his anything. You can’t fight off the desire to be something for him, though, wanting to be there for him, to provide some kind of release for him on those tightly wound days. From there, your mind drifts to the deepest corners of depravity, thinking of all the ways you could help him release.

On one such stressful day, he dropped a note on your desk, so quickly in passing anyone else in the room might have missed it. He didn’t bother to look back at you afterwards, leaving you wide eyed, staring down at the small piece of paper that was folded in half as he continued on to his office.

You felt like you were floating the entire day, anticipation boiling in your gut as you wondered if this note could mean what you think it does. By the time 5:45 rolls around, Joel having breezed back into the building and shutting himself in his office thirty minutes ago, you’ve decided you’re either getting canned or fucked tonight, and both options are making you so nervous you might jump out of your own skin. The few people left in the office pack up for the day and head out, leaving you pretending to finish up work as you wave goodbye to them.

You stand up right on time, smoothing down the short pencil skirt you’re wearing before breathing deeply and reaching for the doorknob to his office. You knock as you open the door, poking your head in. Joel looks up from his desk, where he’d had his forehead on his palm, looking over some paperwork.

“See you got my note,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse from a day of likely speaking and barking orders at his various job sites. “Shut the door behind ya,” Joel adds, and you feel your heart jump further into your throat, a slightly shaky hand shutting the door behind you as he asks.

“Sure. Er, what’s this about, Mr. Miller?” You fidget with your hands in front of you, resting them on your belly as you wait expectantly.

“Joel, remember?” he replies with a cocky smile. You still haven’t quite figured out his intentions, and at this point, you figure it could go either way, and you’re bracing yourself internally for either losing your job or what could be the best sex of your life.

“Right,” you say with a shaky chuckle. “Nervous habit, sorry… Joel.”

“Nothin’ to be nervous about, why don’t ya come on in,” Joel says genially, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips at hearing you say his name.

You slowly make your way to the chair that’s across from his desk, a cluttered mess that you’ve learned is organized in his own way, as he always seems to be able to find everything he needs despite you offering many times to help organize it for him. S’okay, I’ve got a system, he’d repeat every single time, so eventually you’d given up on asking.

“How was your day? You seem stressed,” you dare to ask as you sit down, and Joel quirks a brow at you.

“Same old bullshit,” he says breezily, rubbing a hand down his face and pushing the papers on his desk aside, focusing his attention on you. “So fuckin’ stressed, but you don’t need to worry about all of that.”

“What if…” you start, swallowing hard. Now or fucking never. If you’re about to possibly lose your job, you may as well go out with all you’ve got. “What if I did worry about that?” you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering in his direction and Joel gives you an indiscernible look, but you swear his eyes go a shake darker. “Just, that you’re stressed, I mean. Isn’t it my job to help you?”

Joel barely even reacts other than a flicker across his eyes that you only notice because you’re looking so intently. The bastard was probably prepared for this, like he knew you’d come in here ready to flirt your little heart out if the situation called for it.

Fucking. Asshole. But an extremely hot asshole with his eyes trained right on yours, making you melt instantly and forgetting all about the cursing him you were doing in your head.

“That so?” Joel says slowly with an amused, deep chuckle. He stands up, making his way around the desk towards you, and your heart picks up, practically beating out of your chest now. “That in your job description, hm? Help ol’ Mr. Miller when he’s stressed?”

His tone, his body language, everything is screaming green lights for you to continue this witty repartee. “It could be, if you wanted it to,” you reply, squaring your shoulders back, not cowering from his gaze, but rather intensifying yours with a small pout of your lips. Joel’s movements over to you are slow and calculated, practically sauntering until he’s standing in front of you. He absolutely towers over you now, more than usual, his broad shoulders looking even wider from your angle below him. He leans back on the desk, perching on the edge, giving you a direct view at his crotch, a now very apparent bulge in his jeans.

“Pretty thing like you’d really want to do all that for me?” Joel asks.

You lick your lips, trying to steady your breathing. “Mhm,” you sound, and your confirmation is enough to have Joel leaning forward, placing a hand on your cheek, fingers ghosting along the skin as he makes his way down to your neck, the light trace of his calloused pads sending goosebumps along your arms.

“Like the way I’m touchin’ you, pretty girl?” he asks quietly, and you manage to let out another affirmative noise. You watch his thick fingers tracing down the top of your chest, silently begging please keep going, please. When his hand reaches the top button of your shirt, he pauses, and your legs squeeze together in anticipation. You nearly whine when he withdraws his hand, but seconds later he’s using a finger to tip your chin up, indicating for you to stand.

You meet him against his desk, his legs opening wide for you to step in between them, and you press in close, feeling unsure of what to do with your hands, how far he wants to take things. You delicately place a hand on his thigh to steady yourself, and he slips his arms around you, immediately sliding them down your back and to your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he squeezes your ass firmly through your skirt. “Such a sexy little thing, you wear this for me?”

“You’ve caught me,” you say with a sly look. The skirt isn’t anything that scandalous, but you do suppose it shows more of your legs than may typically be deemed appropriate in an office setting. You’ve always blamed the more skimpy clothing you’d wear on the hot Austin climate, but you know in the back of your mind, it was all always for Joel.

“Don’t have to wear all this to get my attention, y’know,” he says a little more tenderly, still kneading the globes of your ass hungrily, pulling your skirt up in the process.

“Seemed like you enjoyed it, all those times I saw you watch me leave your office,” you quip back.

“Damn right I did, ‘m only human, darlin’,” he says gruffly, yanking you forward, and the hardness in his jeans is pressing right into your own throbbing heat, sending a swirling wave of desire in between your legs. Slickness is gathering there quickly, leaving your underwear already wet and uncomfortable against your skin.

“On your knees, now,” Joel says, pushing you down by your shoulders until you bow under the pressure, getting down onto the carpet and sitting on your knees. “That’s a good girl,” he says with a smirk. He makes quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his cock within moments, and it takes everything in you not to gasp at the sight laid before you.

His cock is beyond what you’d imagined - he’s a big guy overall, but you can’t say you’ve ever been with someone his size, and it’s immediately intimidating. And the bastard knows it, you can tell by his coy little smile as you look at his throbbing cock with wide eyes, taking in the size of him at full attention. You take a little comfort in the fact that he seems painfully turned on by you, the head of his cock leaking pre-cum, pink and pulsating for any part of you to be on it.

“Go on now, doll, ain’t got all night,” Joel says, snapping you out of your reverence for his cock, and you glance up to him before placing a few kisses on the head. Joel hisses through his teeth, his hips bucking forward at your face. When you lap up the drop of precum, swirling your tongue with your eyes locked on his, he lets out a full groan. You hover over his cock, letting your drool collect and fall down onto his shaft in a long string, and the warmth of it brings out a frustrated growl from Joel. He watches with darkened eyes, and his hand shoots to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly.

“Knew you’d be so fuckin’ dirty, such a little tease,” he growls out. He uses your hair to tilt your head back, so your neck is craned up, facing him more directly now. “If you’re gonna act like that, be willin’ to take it in return, sweetheart,” Joel says more coldly. “Open your mouth.” It’s not an ask, but a command, and the authoritarian in him makes you want to listen. You pop your mouth open, shaking a little bit under his tight grip as you watch him gather his own saliva and let it slowly fall out of his mouth, straight down into yours. You taste the strangeness of the sensation, never having had someone else's spit in your mouth in such a copious amount.

“Now swallow,” he demands, and you make a show of swallowing hard, eliciting a devious smile from Joel. “And get back to work,” he says, loosening his grip on your hair and pushing your head back to the level of his cock, dripping and awaiting your mouth.

You immediately slide your mouth down his shaft, not wanting any more pushback from Joel on your teasing, and you taste the saltiness of him as your mouth stretches more than you’re sure you can accommodate. You start to bob more quickly, savoring the myriad of groans and hums Joel makes in the height of his pleasure.

“Fuck… your mouth’s even better than I ‘magined,” Joel says, his hips thrusting in time with your bobbing, sending his cock back further into your throat. A gag slips out, but you swallow him down, allowing him even deeper as your hand works on the rest of him that won’t fit inside of your mouth. He inhales sharply before pushing you back by the shoulders, his cock leaving your mouth with a loud pop.

You barely have time to be confused by the sudden interruption before Joel pulls you up under the arms, spinning you and flattening you against his desk, and you scramble to slide back, papers and office supplies spilling and moving everywhere. He flings a frustrated hand to clear it out of the way, sending everything flying onto the floor, and you stare wide-eyed, thinking this kind of thing only happens in the movies. And here you are, living in a real life fucking movie.

Joel grips your face, turning your attention back his way before crashing his lips into yours, ravenous kisses and swipes of his tongue taking over every sense. You moan, grinding your hips into him as you return the energy of his kisses, pulling back to trace your lips along his chin, the roughness of his beard scratching your face before you reach his earlobe, giving it a few gentle sucks.

“Shit,” Joel hisses out, pushing down your chest to have you lay back on the desk. He tugs under your knees, pulling you to the edge and hiking up your skirt in the process. His hand slides up your thigh, and you’re panting in anticipation, knowing he’s about to see the very evidence of your arousal absolutely soaking your lace panites. When Joel hooks his thumbs in the sides, pulling them down, he makes a satisfied huff at the slick, shining stain that’s left on the black fabric.

“Now that’s a sight…” Joel says, holding the panties up before slipping them into his back pocket. “Didn’t know you’d wanted to help me de-stress this badly, darlin’, would’ve called you in here ages ago,” he teases you with a wry chuckle, clearly enjoying the very compromising position he has you in.

“I do,” you say impatiently. “Didn’t know if it was okay to… you’re my boss.”

“More than okay. Y’see, I’ve been thinkin’ the same thing f’ a while now, havin’ to resist such a perfect little thing that walked right into my office one day.” He tuts with frustration, tightening his grip on your thighs. “Seen you watch me like you couldn't wait to get that mouth on this cock, sugar.”

You nod, confirming everything he said was true. “I j-ust see you so worked up, so much on your shoulders, Joel. Let me…” you heave, “Take it all out on me.”

You tempt him to take that next step, wrapping your legs around his hips, your ankles crossing over each other to pull him even closer.

“Sure you ain’t gonna tell anyone about this?” Joel asks with a few huffs, clearly holding back from what he really desires right now. His body is radiating the unmet need of release that’s throbbing from his every pore right down to his painfully hard cock.

You shake your head wildly, the back of your head moving along the desk. You sit up enough to peer at him and make sure he knows you’re serious.

“Our little secret,” you whisper huskily, letting a smile curl onto your lips.

“Good girl.” Joel returns the smile, one much more cunning as his features darken and he pushes his hard cock against your opening, the large head alone already making your hips twitch with pleasure. When he pushes in you make a small whimper, but try to stuff it down quickly as he stretches you with a beautiful sting along your opening.

“Fu… oh my god,” you murmur, as he pushes in further and further, until you’re sure you couldn’t possibly be more full of him. When he moves past even that point, you groan and realize he’s fully seated inside of you, deeper than you’d ever imagined was even possible. You quickly pulsate around him, your body adjusting to his size until it starts to feel more pleasurable than painful.

“There we go, look at that…” Joel says breathlessly. “Takin’ this cock so pretty, aren’t ya?” He doesn’t even take a beat before he begins thrusting, his massive hands holding tightly onto your hips to steady you as you jostle back onto the desk. Your back arches into the pounding of your two bodies together, warmth growing from deep inside of you where he’s hitting so perfectly. You decide that while you’d made this about him, you wanted to fulfill a fantasy of your own while you had the chance. You’d daydreamed of a certain scenario countless times over the weeks, one you intended to have come to life and turn out to be even better than you could have imagined.

“Fuck me over your desk, Mr. Miller,” you say, an extra bite on the last words, knowing he won’t correct you on his name this time. He growls, a noise deep in his throat at your words.

“Want me to bend you over ‘n fuck you right on this desk, d’ya?” Joel asks, not even allowing you to answer before pulling out of you. You brace yourself on the desk, hopping off and immediately turning around, standing up and pressing the entire length of your body back onto Joel’s. You reach an arm up around his neck and pull him down for a kiss, and he lets out a low hum, grinding into your back.

He doesn’t let it last, though, the tender kiss, before he pushes you down with the palm of his hand on your back, guiding you to rest with your ass out and body pressed low onto the desk. You pant hard, feeling slick gathering between your legs all over again at how close you are to fulfilling your ultimate fantasy with him.

Joel has no mercy, slamming his cock into you, and this angle is completely devastating, ready to ruin you at any moment as your legs immediately begin to shake when his cock hits against your walls hard. He thrusts into you over and over, and you can’t help but be anything but loud, moaning out his name and every expletive that comes to mind as you practically go wild over the way he pumps you so full each and every time. You feel tears sting your eyes, the release trying to build to a crescendo deep in your core.

One of Joel’s hands finds your clit, rubbing tight circles and you fold, completely undone at the large pad of his finger starting to coax your climax out of you.

“C’mon, let me feel you come on this cock, know you’ve been wantin’ to,” Joel says haughtily, and you give in to the sensation, letting the waves of practically transcendent pleasure overtake you as you come hard, screaming Joel’s name in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna - “ Joel says in the midst of your writhing, moaning mess, before being cut off by his own orgasm being pulled from your pussy squeezing his cock. He quickly pulls out, letting himself spill onto your back with a few extra jerks of his cock, the ropes of cum warm on your skin. Joel breathes heavily, caught off guard by the intensity and quickness of his climax, knowing he nearly didn’t make it.

“Jesus, sugar, gonna make a man fuckin’ crazy with a pussy like that,” Joel purrs, using a tissue to begrudgingly clean up your back - he’d thought you’d looked much better all flushed and covered in his cum, and was already plotting a way to see it again and again.

You hum a satisfied sigh, turning back to look at him before sitting up and settling on the edge of the desk. “Glad I could help, boss,” you say teasingly, and Joel already feels another twitch in his cock at your toying with him. “You still stressed?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“You’ve no fuckin’ idea…” Joel sighs. “Got a whole new set of problems now,” he says, looking you over with greedy eyes.

“Well, you know where to find me, if you ever need any help with that,” you say with a wink before hopping off the desk and breezing out of his office, daring a last look back at him.

#thanks to my beautiful coworkers for brainstorming this idea with me i love y'all #i kind of like this meanie boss joel he's kindaaaaaa #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #fic: boss!joel

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littleoddwriter · 2 years

Note

HELLO IT IS I, the great shy neighbor anon!! I have another request for our boy Eddie.

Okay so I was thinking childhood best friends with a male reader smut!

Maybe Edward reveals to him he’s the Riddler, where the reader is like “Holy shit big fan, cant believe its my bestie.” and they work on little things together, maybe holding each others hand through stuff. Maybe they’re obsessed with each other IDK.

After all this v obvious pining, they get a little frisky and s//x happens :)!

Just two idiots so in love doing silly devious things 🙏🙏

Again hopefully this makes sense.

Always Together | Edward Nashton/The Riddler x Male!Reader | N/SFW (18+)

Hey there!!! Thanks so much for the request, it made sense to me, and I really hope you like what I've done with it! :') <3

summary; See above. Minors DNI.

notes; (Cis) Male!Reader; Top!Reader; Bottom!Riddler; Childhood Best Friends; Past Trauma; Getting Together; Friends to Lovers; First Time; Anal Sex; Unsafe Sex; Fluff and Smut.

Edward and you have been friends ever since you could remember. You grew up in the orphanage together, being handed from one foster family to the next, until you both eventually aged out of the system. When you had to leave the hell-hole that was Gotham’s orphanage, Eddie and you moved in together so you could afford something and also to simply stay together. Neither of you had wanted to be alone just yet.

But after a couple of years, you both decided that it would be nice to have an apartment all to yourselves and searched for your own. After spending your entire lives holed up with nearly thirty other kids in just one room and then staying with one another took a toll on both of you. It was for the best. And you stayed in contact, meeting quite regularly, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But you missed Ed a lot and it was hard for you to be without him. Nonetheless, you also had to admit that having your own apartment was good for you, it let you explore yourself better, as you got a perspective of what you wanted in life and who you really were underneath all this trauma without letting it weigh you down every day. Only being alone allowed that for you. Eddie always reminded you of the orphanage. You both did that for one another. It wasn’t good. Both of you suffered from it.

By the sounds of it, he’d been better on his own, too. He had a good job, a nice apartment, goals, hopes and dreams. And you were still a part of everything, which was something you secretly cared about the most.

______

When you came together again years later, the Riddler had just started out. You watched all of his livestreams. You considered yourself quite a fan of this man, who was seeking to uncover the truth about Gotham, something you were all for, after what you, Ed and all those other kids have been through.

Sitting beside Eddie on your bed, you two had been updating each other on how things have been since you’ve last seen each other about two weeks ago. You thought that while he was talking that there was something he tried not to voice. You couldn’t put your finger on it, though. Did something happen that he didn’t want to tell you? It worried you that he often skirted around something when he spoke about what he’s been up to. It happened a lot more often lately, not just now.

“Hey, Eddie,” you said, looking at him in concern. He looked back at you, raising an eyebrow. “I was wondering if there’s something you’re hiding from me? Like, I just have this feeling that you are because of the way you’ve been talking about what you’ve been up to recently, you know? I’m worried, is all.”

Edward looked like a deer in headlights. That only worried you more. So he was indeed hiding something from you.

“Have you heard about the Riddler?” he asked, basically blurting it out after a few moments of silence passed and you had thought he was going to pretend it was nothing.

Taken aback, you nodded.

“I’m- I am the Riddler,” Eddie admitted, twisting the bed sheet between his fingers nervously, "Uh- I didn’t mean to worry you, Y/N. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Processing this information, you just looked at him for a moment before breaking out into a huge grin.

“I’m actually a big fan of his! Can’t believe it’s you, Eddie. Well, I kinda can, to be fair. But still! This is so cool! My best friend is the Riddler!” You couldn’t hide your excitement if you tried.

Edward smiled, looking shocked, but pleased. “Oh, thank God,” he breathed.

“That kinda explains why there were never any streams when you were with me. And here I was always worried I’d miss one!” you chuckled heartily.

“I’m relieved that you are a fan of this persona I created. I was scared to tell you. I didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of freak and for you to leave me.”

“Never. We’ve always been together, Eddie. I couldn’t ever leave you.” You both smiled at each other. Ed’s cheeks were tinted pink and your own face grew a bit hot.

After a short moment of silence, you started bombarding Edward with questions about the Riddler. And because he knew he could trust you, he told you everything you wanted to know. As a result, you only fell deeper in love with him - something you had realised a while ago, but doubted you were ever going to tell him.

______

Ever since, he’s invited you over when he was going to stream so you could sit out of frame and watch him like this. Your presence calmed him down, he’s told you. He wanted you there. And it meant the world to you that he did.

At some point, you started holding his hand just out of the camera’s view. It only started because one time he was feeling anxious, as he’d been triggered before and flashbacks kept on coming, ones you only knew too well. You had done your best to calm him down before his stream, which he refused to postpone, but it hadn’t been enough. So, you ended up with his hand in yours, grounding him that way throughout. And somehow, that has just become your thing, then.

What honoured you the most, though, was when he started explaining his plans to you in more detail, asked for your opinion, and eventually proposed that you help him out with some things. Of course you did. You wanted to spend every second with him. You also wanted to help him achieve his goals. It was a win-win situation, really.

Throughout all this, you two have grown even closer, which you had thought to be almost impossible, but you’d been proven wrong once again. Your feelings for him only intensified, naturally, and by now you were pretty certain that you weren’t simply in love with Edward. No, you were absolutely obsessed with him. And in turn, you started to feel like the same was true for him. You hoped so, at least.

Because by now it seemed to be getting a little ridiculous. After all, you not only held his hand during streams anymore, but just whenever it fit you both. You kissed his cheek. You two cuddled with each other. You never spent any time with somebody else anymore, only one another. And it was slowly killing you. You just wanted him to be yours and vice versa. You wanted to be exclusive. You wanted to love him openly and unashamedly.

Apparently you’ve been heard, though, when a while later, you were cuddling in his bed and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, just because you felt the need to, and Eddie turned his head, capturing your lips in a surprise kiss. You both froze for a split second, but then you started to kiss each other in earnest.

When you broke it at last to catch your breath, you looked at one another in wonder.

“Fuck, I want you so bad,” you murmured, unable to keep it inside.

“Me, too,” Edward responded quite instantly.

“Should we… Do you want to-?” You didn’t know how to ask if he wanted to have sex with you right now, but he seemed to understand you.

“Yes! I’d like that. Um-” Ed’s face turned completely red. Both of you chuckled at how awkward you two were. Neither of you had ever expected this to happen.

“We don’t have to go all the way. We’ve got all the time in the world, right?” you tried to lighten the tension that settled around you two.

“We do,” he whispered. Then, he leaned in and kissed you again.

Sighing into it, you opened your mouth and he mirrored you. You slipped in your tongue, licking into his mouth to explore it. He moaned in response and his hands around your middle tightened.

Pushing him back down on the mattress, you got on top of him, between his legs, never once breaking the kiss. Your growing erections pushed against each other, causing you both to moan.

“What do you want to happen now?” you asked, out of breath.

Edward swallowed thickly, looking embarrassed as he averted his gaze before he answered, “I’d like you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” you grinned, pecking his lips. “Where’s the lube?”

He pointed at his bedside table, “First drawer.”

Opening it, you took out the bottle of lube and put it on the bed, next to Ed’s head. Then, you took off your own shirt and grabbed the hem of Edward’s, silently asking to pull it off of him. He simply nodded, sitting up slightly and raising his arms to help you.

While you were unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down along with your underwear, you kissed down Eddie’s lips, neck, collarbone and chest to his nipples, taking each one into your mouth and swirling your tongue over it. He made the most beautiful noises as you did. You wanted to know what else you could elicit from him the further you went.

To fully take your pants, underwear and socks off, though, you had to stop and get up for a second. Ed looked at you with clear admiration on his face. Smiling at him, you felt your face grow hot again. This was what you’d been dreaming of for so long.

Back on the bed, you kneeled between his legs and took off the rest of his clothes as well. Both fully naked now, you let your eyes and hands roam over Ed before you finally took his hard cock into your hands. Groaning softly, his hips twitched.

“You have had sex like this before, right? We never talked about that,” you asked after a short moment.

“Well, no,” he answered, blushing furiously, “but, uh, I’ve used toys on myself.”

“Okay, that’s fair enough, Eddie. Just wanted to make sure you know what’s gonna happen,” you told him gently, stroking your hands over his thighs lovingly.

When he nodded, you took the bottle of lube into your hands and poured some over your fingers. You took your time preparing him, sliding your digits in and out slowly and letting him relax around them. When you could have entered a fourth finger, you pulled out and spread more lube on your cock.

“Ready?” you inquired, stroking your cock.

“Yes,” Eddie whispered, nodding for emphasis.

Then, you slowly started entering him bit by bit until you were fully inside. Both of you moaned when your hips met his. You moved in and out of him shallowly at first, careful to let him get used to it and not bring him discomfort beyond what was normal for the beginning. Once he demanded for you to go harder, you complied, though.

“Feels good?” you asked, breathing heavily as you kept thrusting into him steadily.

Nodding, Eddie moaned, “Yeah, fuck- yes, feels good, Y/N!”

“You make the best sounds, Eddie baby, you know that?” You drove further into him, slamming into his prostate to prove your point when he groaned loudly in surprise and pleasure, nearly shouting.

“God, fuck, please, make me come,” Ed whined after a couple more thrusts that stimulated his prostate. When you looked him in the eyes, they were shining with unshed tears. Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Taking the lube back into your hands, you poured some over your hand. And then you started stroking him in time with your thrusts, making him come not long after. He was moaning, arching his back and coming all over his stomach and your hand.

The way he clenched around you almost made it difficult for you to continue to thrust into him, but the tightness also caused your orgasm to approach quickly. Thus, you followed him only a few moments later, coming deep inside of him.

Slipping out of him, you laid down beside Eddie. Both of you were panting, drenched in sweat, and cum in Ed’s case.

“Oh, that was a lot better than I had expected,” Edward sighed, smiling tiredly.

Grinning, you put your clean hand on his chest and let it rest there, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I did, too. This is all I’ve ever wanted. You know, us. Together like this.”

“Yeah, me too. I wish I had said something sooner, though,” he said, smiling ruefully.

“I hear ya. But better now than not at all,” you told him.

Scooting over a bit, you leaned your head on Ed’s shoulder and relished in this moment of absolute content. You felt at ease and, most of all, happy. You could barely believe this had really happened. But it had.

“I love you,” you both said at the exact same time, making each other laugh.

This was exactly how things were supposed to be, you knew.

#sorry if the smut part isn't the best i just - eh idk - yeah sorry!#nsft fic #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #edward nashton #ed nashton #edward nashton x reader #the riddler #the riddler x reader #dano riddler #dano!riddler #dano riddler x reader #paul dano #danonation #fanfiction #fanfic

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summerwritesfics · 2 years

Text

🔥❄️Walk With Me, Would You Stay Awhile And Talk With Me

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 11493 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: God AU, God!Hanzo Hasashi, Mortal!Kuai Liang, Healer!Kuai Liang, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tea, Mahjong, Implied Past Abuse, Bad Societal Hierarchy, Sparring, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Gentle Sex, Gentle Kissing, First Time, Roof Sex (Sex is just sexier when it’s on a roof idk what to tell you), Fluff, Some tiny bits of angst this is me lmao, Pining, Size Difference, Hand Job, Mentioned Homophobia, Plot With Porn, Porn With Feelings, Not really an arranged marriage but a relationship as part of a deal idk, Hanzo gets stabbed in the chest and has no coping mechanism except to court the person responsible, Hanzo falls for Kuai fast and hard SubScorp Week Day 7: God AU

SubScorp Week 2022 Masterlist

Notes: Welp, looks like this is it once again! ;_; This is probably the longest one shot I’ve ever written lmao, so I mean, a good end to the week I guess :) Hopefully it’s actually good and not just a big bunch of waffle XD I’m 100% sure I’ve probably missed a lot of typos but tbh I’ve been editing this for hours and I just want it out there, so if you see any please let me know TT_TT Title is from “Chivalry Begins” by Big Giant Circles.

Hanzo was really starting to tire of this.

There was a village, not too far from his temple, inhabited by people who preferred to be known as The Lin Kuei. They had been coming before him on this day every year for the last few decades, begging the God of Fire for his protection. He had only ever offered his protection to one village, but that had been enough to make every village within the vicinity come before him hoping he would choose them too. Most had taken no for an answer many moons ago and stopped trying.

Not the Lin Kuei however.

Every year, as if by clockwork, there was one of their kin in his throne room, trying to convince him to help them. He would admire their persistence if it wasn’t such an annoyance. Having to deal with this every year meant he was taken away from potentially more pressing matters, and it didn’t help that ever single one tried to argue against him, eating up more of his time.

At least this years poor fool had the sense to bow and show his respect before making demands.

“Can I help you mortal?” He asked, bored already.

“Lord Hasashi, I have been sent on behalf on the Lin Kuei, to request your protection of our village.” The man’s tone was uneven, clearly nervous about his role in this.

“Have you indeed?” Hanzo pushed himself up and off his throne and ambling towards his visitor. The man seemed to get even more nervous when he realised just how big Hanzo was, he was at least a couple of feet taller, towering over the still nervous man.

Upon closer inspection, this man looked different than the ones usually sent by the village. Usually they sent nobles, generals, people in positions of power. This man was in a far less flashy affair, a simple blue Hanfu, no jewellery or even armour, he had a sword strapped to his back but that was it. It seemed the village had finally realised that Hanzo did not respond to the arrogant pricks they usually sent.

“What is your name?” Hanzo questioned, staring the man up and down. He’d been cordial so far, and while Hanzo had no intentions of negotiating any sort of deal with the village, we was willing to at least do this man the kindness of listening.

“Kuai Liang, my Lord,” he replied, bowing his head slightly.

“Well, Kuai Liang, give me one good reason why I should protect your people?” He knew what the answer was already, it was the same answer every year. And this man seemed so woefully unprepared he doubted it would be a different one.

“We offer our worship and-“

“That is the same thing that is offered to me every year,” Hanzo interrupted, and Kuai flinched at his harsh tone. “Why would I accept it this time?”

“I-“ Kuai hesitated. Clearly they’d just coached him to say what they always said. He had no real answer. “I don’t know, my Lord.”

“Then I will bid you adieu,” Hanzo smuggly said in return, turning on his heel and returning to his throne. He expected Kuai to give up, given the man was clearly not a warrior and wracked with anxiety.

Except he heard the sword being unsheathed.

Hanzo turned back. Kuai was standing with the sword, gripping it tightly with both his hands. His stance was slightly off, not proper at all but not completely wrong. Clearly someone had taught him a few basics, but there was no sign of formal training.

“Do you really want to do this, Kuai Liang?” He asked, narrowing his eyes, hoping his threatening presence would be enough to make Kuai back down.

“I will do anything for my village,” Kuai announced, breathing uneven and hands unsteady.

How adorable. Hanzo felt bad for him, he’d likely not been given any real guidance on what to expect. In that respect, it would be wrong for Hanzo to fight back like he would anyone else. He’d just dodge the attacks until Kuai got bored and gave up.

“Very well,” Hanzo replied with a smirk. “Give it your best shot, Kuai Liang.”

Without much warning Kuai surged forward, swinging his sword at Hanzo with all his might. Hanzo chuckled as he sidestepped the attack. Kuai skidded to a halt, before turning on the balls of his feet. He ran toward Hanzo again, and once more he moved away. Again and again, this pattern repeated, and Hanzo had to admit, he admired Kuai’s stamina. For someone clearly lacking training, he was showing a lot less exhaustion than some of his more battle skilled peers had.

“It helps if you actually hit your target,” Hanzo taunted, rather enjoying the way Kuai bared his teeth in anger. He really was quite precious. This was the most fun he’d had with a mortal outside of his worshipers for a long time.

Kuai swung and missed again. Hanzo got to a point where he was just slowly backing up with every time Kuai went to hit him. Kuai had something about him, there was no denying that. Some would call it foolishness, but Hanzo saw it as determination. Maybe he had judged the man too quickly.

“Are you not getting tired?” Hanzo questioned, really rather amazed that Kuai didn’t seem to have even begun running out of breath.

Kuai swung his sword again, and Hanzo went to easily dodge once more.

Except…

He didn’t.

Hanzo felt the tip of the sword just about catch his cheek and he drew back in surprise. As he touched the area that had been hit, he was surprised by the sting and the wetness on his fingertips. He held his hand in front of his face, blood on his hand. Kuai Liang had managed to land a hit on him. He’d been challenged to battle by every Lin Kuei who had entered his temple, and yet in all those years, not one person had actually managed to hit him.

Unfortunately, he was so distracted by his shock, he stopped paying attention to what Kuai Liang was doing until it was too late. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, looking down, he found the sword buried to the hilt.

He looked to Kuai’s face, tight with valour. Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to feel angry that his momentary lapse of awareness had been taken advantage of. If anything it was only natural for Kuai to capitalise on such a moment. Hanzo was almost proud of him for doing so, but not as proud as him actually managing to get that first hit.

Hanzo brought his hands up to the hilt of the sword, wrapping them around Kuai’s as he still gripped it for dear life. Kuai looked down at Hanzo’s hands, before looking at Hanzo questioningly.

“I hate to be the barer of bad news,” Hanzo started, tightening his grip of Kuai’s hands. “But you can not kill a god.”

Kuai tried to not look alarmed by this revelation, but he was betrayed by the way his eyes widened slightly. It seemed either no one had ever told him or he’d just never really considered it. It was endearing in a strange way. He was so completely out of his depth, Hanzo was almost furious the the Lin Kuei would send someone so unprepared to face him.

Kuai tried to pull away but Hanzo made sure to take a strong hold of his wrists. Kuai let go of the sword, desperate to try and get away. Holding Kuai’s wrists with one hand, he held him in place as he reached for his chains. Despite how hard Kuai was trying to free himself, Hanzo’s grip was strong, no doubt he would leave bruises. Hanzo would heal them later, when Kuai had calmed down, but for now, he wrapped the chains around his wrists and pulled.

He held the end of the chains, making sure Kuai wasn’t going to find a way to free himself. Satisfied that no matter how much Kuai thrashed he wasn’t going anywhere, Hanzo turned his attention to the sword still buried inside himself. He grabbed it, gently coaxing it free. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as badly as it probably would have if he were mortal. Once out, he stared at the blade stained with his blood before throwing it across the floor. Kuai stopped struggling to watch his only defence leave his reach.

Hanzo lit a fire in his hand, taking notice in how still Kuai became. The fire wasn’t meant to hurt however, this was meant to heal. He held it to his wound, feeling a tingling as the fire worked it’s magic and began to stitch his flesh back together. Despite the size of the wound, his work was quick, and he was able to fix himself easily. He could heal the small scratch on his cheek as well, but he decided against it. The hole in his chest had come from an underhanded tactic, the scratch on his face had been a legitimate hit. He decided he could let Kuai have that one.

Speaking of Kuai, he still wasn’t moving, just wearily eyeing up the fire still in Hanzo’s hand. Clearly he was expecting the fire to be wielded against him. Hanzo smirked as he extinguished the fire, seeing Kuai’s shoulders relax at the action.

He didn’t give Kuai chance to begin struggling again, yanking on the chain hard and causing Kuai to stumble forward. Hanzo pulled until Kuai was flush with his chest, and he wrapped his arm around Kuai’s back, grasping onto the fabric of his hanfu and holding him close. Kuai made a strange squeak, his face going bright red as he squirmed slightly.

“You are an interesting one, Kuai Liang,” Hanzo commented, rather delighted by how Kuai’s previous defiance seemed to have been replaced by shyness. “You are the first from your village to actually manage to strike me.” Kuai pursed his lips at that, looking like he didn’t believe it. Hanzo supposed the Lin Kuei he usually dealt with weren’t the types to admit defeat. “You are clearly not a trained warrior, what exactly is your position?”

“I’m a healer,” Kuai admitted, and Hanzo couldn’t help raise an eyebrow. “My brother and Grandfather refused to let me join the armies, but my brother did, and he taught me some basic self defence.” The idea that Hanzo had been taken down by basic self defence was a little insulting, but wasn’t that why Kuai was catching his interest? He did wonder why Kuai had been sent rather than his brother however. As if sensing the unasked question, Kuai added, “my brother came before you last year.”

“Oh that arrogant fool?” Hanzo hissed before he could stop himself. He hadn’t paid much attention to the man who’d come last year. He’d been all bark and absolutely no bite in the end. Threatening Hanzo and claiming he could win with absolute certainty only to have his ass handed to him.

Hanzo was a little surprised when Kuai chuckled under his breath and mutter, “he is pretty arrogant.” His mouth twitched slightly. “I suppose that’s why he told me he had defeated you, and you still refused his requests.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes and commented, “given your reaction, it sounds like that is much the same story everyone tells.”

“No one has never mentioned being defeated by you,” Kuai admitted, squirming slightly again. He stilled when Hanzo squeezed him slightly.

“Of course they didn’t,” Hanzo sighed dramatically. He pulled of the chain slightly. “But for now, the question is, what am I to do with you?”

“I assumed you’d send me back to the village with my tail between my legs,” Kuai said looking down. “It won’t surprise anyone for me to have failed.”

That last statement bothered Hanzo, but he couldn’t place why. He chose to ignore it for now.

“Now why would I do that when you’re so very interesting?” Hanzo moved his hand from Kuai’s back, bringing it to cup his chin instead. “In fact the most interesting thing that’s walked into my temple for centuries.”

Kuai’s eyes looked to one side, Hanzo’s grip on his chin stopped him from turning away completely.

“I fail to see what makes me so interesting to you,” Kuai muttered, chewing on his lower lip.

“Being a healer who managed to get a strike on a God is not enough?” Hanzo teased, and Kuai’s eyes shot back to him to give him an unimpressed look. “You are not like the others that have come before me, and that makes me curious about you.” He pulled on the chains again. “If I undo the chains, are you going to try and run from me?”

Kuai was silent for a few seconds, looking like he was considering it. Finally, he replied with “no, Lord Hasashi.”

Hanzo decided to trust him, reaching to pull the chains away from his limbs. With the chains gone, Hanzo could see that Kuai’s wrists had already begun bruising and there were slight cuts from the chains. He lit a fire in both of his hands and went to take hold of Kuai’s wrists. Kuai pulled his hands away lightning fast, staring at Hanzo’s hands wearily.

“These flames will not hurt you,” Hanzo promised. He felt his hands out flat, deciding to let Kuai take the initiative.

Kuai really didn’t look like he trusted it, and Hanzo almost wondered if he was about to go back on his word of not running. Eventually, Kuai held his arms out, resting his wrists on Hanzo’s hands. He grimaced as the flames touched him, eyes screwing shut bracing himself for pain that would never come. His eyes blinked open in surprise when he realised the burning agony he was expecting hadn’t happened. He watched in awe as the flames licked at his skin, and slowly the bruised skin began to clear, and the small cuts began to close up. When Hanzo was satisfied the healing was complete, his flames died down, and Kuai lifted his arms to stare at the spot the injuries had just been.

He looked back across at Hanzo, conflict written on his face. “Thank you,” he whispered, before adding, “but, what exactly is it you want from me?”

Hanzo tilted his head, staring Kuai up and down. His outfit might have been plain, but he himself was anything but. It had been so long since Hanzo had found himself fascinated by a mortal in such a way. In fact he could only think of one person who had ever fascinated him like this.

“There has only been one other to captivate me the way you have,” Hanzo began, as he slowly began to circle Kuai. “Her name was Harumi, she came to me very much as you have, requesting protection for her village. We made a deal, and I granted that protection.”

“So, what was it she offered you?” Kuai asked, looking apprehensive.

“She offered me her hand in marriage.”

Kuai made a strange noise between a squeak and a whine. He covered his mouth as his face went bright red. It was as adorable as it was endearing.

“Are- Are you suggesting we-“

“Not if you do not want to,” Hanzo replied. As cute a husband he was sure Kuai would make, he wasn’t that cruel a god as to force an unwilling participant into marriage. “But I do ask that you stay with me a while. I would like to get to know you.”

“If I stay, will you consider protection for the Lin Kuei?” Kuai asked, holding his head high despite how flustered he looked.

“You have my word,” Hanzo replied with a bow. Kuai looked at him like he was considering it.

“Okay,” he said in a loud and long breath. “I will stay. But I should let the village know, before they send someone thinking I am dead.”

“I will have one of my acolytes relay a message.” Hanzo held out his hand. “Now, come, allow me to give you a warmer welcome than you initially received.”

Kuai actually gave a small smile, before taking Hanzo’s hand.

----------------------------------------------------

Hanzo was making every effort to not become overbearing.

Kuai was still skittish, and Hanzo worried that bombarding him with queries would both frighten him and frustrate him. He had left Kuai to his own devices for a day or so, deciding to let the man approach him in his own time while hopefully becoming more comfortable with his surroundings.

It was very different from how Harumi had been. She had been the one to suggest marriage, and as such was very enthusiastic and open to talking with him. Kuai was not Harumi, but he was equally as intriguing. He just had to remind himself that this man required a different approach to his late wife.

The message to his village had been sent, Hanzo’s acolyte had stated the Grandmaster had laughed and made some sort of derogatory comment. The acolyte did not elaborate on the comment, even as Hanzo had pushed for what it was. All he was told was that the actual comment would have made Hanzo burn the village to the ground.

As he sat down at a table to make himself a cup of tea and ponder that reaction, from the corner of his eye he saw a head peering around the doorframe. Upon further inspection, he realised it was Kuai Liang, watching him like he was trying to spy on him.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, trying not to grin when Kuai jumped and realised he had been spotted. “Would you care to have some tea with me?”

Kuai slowly stepped into the doorway, staring at the table with the tea. He glanced around, as if checking they were alone, before he finally made his way over and sat down opposite, and Hanzo began to pour out the drink.

“How are you settling in?” Hanzo asked, as he pushed the cup of tea towards Kuai Liang.

“I’m fine.” He accepted the cup, taking it in his hands but didn’t try to drink it yet. “Your temple is very beautiful.”

“Thank you, though I can not take much credit for that,” Hanzo admitted, taking his own tea and sipping it. “My acolytes are the one who take care of the upkeep.”

Kuai hummed, finally taking his own sip of tea. Hanzo didn’t miss the way Kuai’s eyes widened, before he very quickly took another couple of sips. He quickly asked between his drinking, “speaking of your acolytes, did they send the message?”

“They did.” Hanzo was hesitant to say anymore. Kuai didn’t need to know the cruel way his Grandmaster had reacted. Kuai was staring at him expectantly however, and Hanzo knew he had to say a little more. “My acolyte mentioned your Grandmaster was not kind with his wording, although would not tell me what was said.”

“It’s okay, I have an idea what the nature of the comments might be,” Kuai admitted lowly, closing his eyes as he did. “The Grandmaster doesn’t exactly have the highest opinion of me, he’s probably angry that I would take more than one day to negotiate with you.”

Hanzo scoffed, “nothing worthwhile is built in a day. It takes time to build a sturdy foundation, and build from there. Your Grandmaster is a fool to think otherwise.”

Kuai just stared at Hanzo silently, looking alarmed. His eyes darted around the room, like he was expecting someone to reveal themselves from the shadows.

“There is no one here but us,” Hanzo clarified, wondering if Kuai was worried about his acolytes overhearing or someone else.

“This is a test,” Kuai said. A statement, not a question. He was certain of this. “He has asked you to test my loyalty.”

Hanzo couldn’t help but screw his face up in disgust, “even if he had, I would not have approved of such a thing.” There was something concerning about this reaction. Why would this even be something he would be afraid of? “What makes you believe this is a test?”

“We are not supposed to speak poorly of our Grandmaster,” Kuai told him, still wearily eyeing up the room. “We do not question his will, and we certainly are not supposed to criticise his ways.”

Hanzo knew there was a reason he didn’t like the village. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Kuai’s true feelings on his Grandmaster without first assuring him that his words would not make their way back to the Lin Kuei. So, baby steps. Make Kuai feel more comfortable, and then later figure out how long the Lin Kuei Grandmaster would burn for.

“I see this is an uncomfortable topic for you, so we should move on.” Hanzo lent across the table and offered a sly smile. “Besides, it is you that I would prefer to speak of.”

“I am not sure what else there is,” Kuai said quietly, grabbing his wrist with his hand and rubbing it. “I am not really as interesting at you seem to think.”

I vehemently disagree. He did not voice that thought, it was often hard to convince someone of their own worth. Instead he just lent his head on his hand, trying to think of a topic to help coax Kuai into talking more freely about himself.

“I am sure you must have some stories to tell from your work as healer,” Hanzo pointed out. It was a topic he’d talked about before, and always found everyone he asked had different stories to tell. “For instance, how exactly did you come to walk that path?”

“Like I mentioned, my Grandfather and Brother refused to let me join the armies.” Kuai finally let go of his wrist, but it wasn’t the end of his nervous fidgeting. He now just seemed to not know what to do with his hands. “I still wished to be of use however, which is when my Grandfather took me to the healers and requested they take me under their wing.”

“Do you like being a healer?” He questioned. It seemed almost like he’d been forced out into the role. He could imagine that could foster some form of resentment.

“I do,” Kuai said, the most chipper he’d sounded since he’d arrived, so Hanzo was inclined to believe this was true. “I enjoy helping people, even if my patients in particular are not always so grateful.”

“Some people do not appreciate these things until they are gone,” Hanzo commented, a sad truth he had learnt from millennia of watching the lives of mortals. He’d seen entire societies ban utilities they considered wrong or useless, only to discover how much they did for them after. “I do hope you do not receive too much backlash.”

And if he did, Hanzo would very much like the names of the perpetrators so he could have a word with them.

“Backlash, not so much, snide comments, maybe,” Kuai said somewhat deadpan. “I don’t really care, the other healers are kind to me, and I know they appreciate me, so that’s all I need.”

Hanzo was glad to hear that at least Kuai’s colleagues weren’t so dismissive. It did make him wonder what Kuai’s other relationships were like though. And whatever people thought of his work, there was no denying that Kuai was a very good looking man. Hanzo could imagine he had many suitors fighting for his affections.

“Do you have many other relationships with your fellow villagers?” Hanzo went to pour himself a second cup of tea, noticing Kuai’s cup was also now empty he went to fill that too. “I can imagine you have numerous people enamoured with you.”

Kuai let out a strained laugh, as he replied “oh, no, not really.” Hanzo didn’t believe that for a second. “I have friends, but no one interested romantically.” Kuai pursed his lips and looked like he was thinking. “I mean, I always suspected my best friend had feelings for me, but when I asked him for a relationship, he turned me down, so I suspect I misread his intentions.”

Hanzo wondered if that was really the case, or if this friend had instead turned Kuai down in a panic or for fear of judgement from their peers.

“I am a bit of a black sheep, I suppose,” Kuai continued. “Not many people really care for me, except my healer brethren, my brother, and my best friend.” Kuai looked away, staring out the window. In the distance, you could just about make out his village. “Our village values fighters, above all things. Those who do not take that path are seen as outsiders and generally regarded as useless or cowardly.”

“That seems an unfair judgement towards you for something you did not choose for yourself.” Hanzo watched as Kuai continued to look wistfully out the window.

“That doesn’t really matter, it is just how our culture is, I guess.” Kuai finally turned back to him. “I think part of why they sent me this year was a form of punishment and humiliation. They expected me to come back with nothing so they could use me as an example of why no one should be like me. Despite the fact no one else has succeeded either.”

Hanzo had no idea how he kept his composure. The idea they might have sent him here to fail was despicable. It made him wonder just what the Grandmaster had said to his acolyte. Bastard does not deserve my protection.

But refusal put Kuai in a bad position. It would “prove” he was as useless as they seemed to think he was. Damn them. This had nothing to do with the village itself at this point, and everything to do with what Kuai Liang wanted from him. If Kuai asked him to kill them all, he would do so without hesitation.

But he hadn’t.

So Hanzo silently resolved that he would earn Kuai’s trust, and he would stand by his word to offer the village protection.

And he would make sure those ungrateful wrenches knew exactly who had brought such a gift to them.

----------------------------------------------------

Kuai was slowly becoming more comfortable around Hanzo.

It was little things that Hanzo noticed. Kuai no longer traversed the temple like he was trying to remain unseen. He walked into rooms without sticking his head around the door frame before entering. He stopped acting paranoid that some omnipresent force would swoop in and reprimand him for speaking poorly of the Grandmaster.

He was being more open with his interests as well. He didn’t have much outside of his healing, more out of lack of availability than want however. One of the first true times he felt Kuai had begun to bond with him, was when they sat down and Kuai tried to teach him how to play mahjong.

Even if the game did frustrate Hanzo a little, given he kept getting into situations where he had no more valid moves, Kuai was patent with teaching him how to play. If Hanzo was honest, he was more captivated by watching Kuai play. He looked so relaxed as he paired up the tiles with ease. He left the table set up should Kuai decide he wishes to play during moments where Hanzo was busy.

His acolytes had needed advice on an issue, meaning that so far today, he had not yet been able to speak with Kuai. When he was finally done, seeking out his guest was his first priority. As understanding as Kuai was of Hanzo’s position, it still felt rude to leave him unattended for long periods of time.

He made his way to the room they’d had their tea in, it seemed to be Kuai’s favourite place in the temple and thus the first place he would check. Indeed, when he walked in, there Kuai was, sat at the mahjong table. However, he wasn’t alone, two of Hanzo’s acolytes were sat with him. They hadn’t noticed Hanzo yet, so he stood and observed the interaction. Kuai seemed to be listening intently to what the acolytes were saying, occasionally nodding, smiling and laughing.

Hanzo hadn’t realised before that he was worried how his acolytes would treat Kuai and vice versa. The relief that they were getting on well was immeasurable.

Hanzo coughed lightly, making his presence known. All three men turned their heads to see who was there. When Kuai saw Hanzo, a blush came across his face.

“Are things well?” Hanzo questioned, walking towards them. The two acolytes stood up as he approached.

“Yes, Lord Hasashi,” one of his acolytes replied with a bow. “Kuai Liang was just teaching us how to play Mahjong.”

Hanzo chuckled at that. Seems he was not the only person Kuai was going to rope into this. He wasn’t going to complain, he definitely liked to encourage his worshipers to take time for themselves, a nice fun game to play would be beneficial to moral.

“Do you need anything Lord Hasashi?” The other acolyte questioned.

“Not right now,” Hanzo replied, walking past them to settle opposite the table to Kuai Liang. “You do not have to leave solely because I am here, you may join us, if you wish.”

The two acolytes shared a strange knowing look between them, before the first one replied with, “it’s quite alright Lord Hasashi, there is work we should be doing anyway.”

The two acolytes bowed again before excusing themselves. Hanzo turned back to Kuai, who thankfully wasn’t upset that his conversation had been cut short. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“I do apologise if I interrupted your conversation,” he offered with a smile. Kuai smiled back, before turning his attention to the Mahjong table.

“No, it’s okay, I’m glad you’re here.” Hanzo tried not to scream from the sheer joy that sentence brought him. I’m glad you’re here! He’s happy to see me! It was a big sentiment from a man who only a few weeks ago was scared to enter a room without being invited first. “Your acolytes are very interesting.” Kuai took a pair of tiles, before looking expectantly at Hanzo. Ah. Hanzo stared at the board, realising that it was his turn. “They talk very highly of you.”

“A lot have given up much to assist me, it is only right for me to provide them a good life in return,” Hanzo replied, taking two of the tiles, still unsure if he was playing this game right. He did smirk though as he looked across at Kuai and said “so, you were talking about me then?”

Kuai squeaked and his face went bright red and he looked away, while stammering “I- I- Well- I- You see-“

Hanzo cut him off with a laugh and commented, “you’re adorable when you’re flustered.” Kuai shot him an unimpressed looked. “Relax, it is only natural that you would ask questions to those who know me well.”

“Grandfather always told me, that the way to check the heart of a God was to check those of their followers.” Kuai took two more tiles from the board. He’d barely even looked at what he was doing, Hanzo was in awe at how he was able to memorise where tiles were with such certainty.

“Your Grandfather was a wise man,” Hanzo noted. “There are many deities who rule with fear, but that does not inspire loyalty.”

“There are many humans who rule with fear too,” Kuai stated sadly, looking through the window, in the direction of his village. Hanzo had no need to question who he was talking about. “You are right. It inspires obedience rather than loyalty. The second that things are bad, those you tried to lead will leave you to be eaten alive.”

“Precisely.” Hanzo turned his attention back to the board. He was determined to win this game, if only in an attempt to impress Kuai Liang. “Loyalty is earned, not given.”

“Out of curiosity,” Kuai began, turning back in time to watch Hanzo staring intently at the Mahjong board. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kuai’s amused smile. “Is this the sort of thing that would be expected of me?” Hanzo made a confused huff, not sure what he was actually asking. “Loyalty, and worship.”

“Loyalty, yes, but as I already said, that is earned. Though you should know you already have mine,” he commented as he took two more tiles. “As for worship. No.” He looked Kuai in the eyes. “I would never expect that from someone I am equals with.” Hanzo felt his mouth split into a grin, as he figured another way to fluster Kuai further. “If anything, I intend to be the one to worship you.”

It worked, Kuai looked away in embarrassment, although to Hanzo’s surprise he was softly laughing this time.

“You truly are audacious,” Kuai commented, pushing some hair behind his ear. He quietly took another couple of tiles without looking at the board. “I’ve never heard of something so preposterous. A God worshiping a mere mortal.”

“Not a mere mortal,” Hanzo replied, realising that there were only a few tiles left, and it looked like they would be able to clear the board. “You are not a mere anything.” Hanzo watched as Kuai turned back to the board and seemed to realise they would clear it. The first time since Hanzo had begun to learn how to play. “Besides, if it were not for mortals, the Gods would have nothing.”

“How so?” Kuai asked genuinely. Hanzo didn’t miss the small smile as he continued to take the tiles.

“They are the ones who chose to give us their time, they built our temples and tend to our world.” Hanzo saw the way Kuai’s face scrunched up. “Is there a problem?”

“I am curious, if you truly feel that way, how come you so seldom offer your protection?” Kuai asked, tilting his head.

“Despite being a god, I still can not be in multiple places at once.” He reached to take the last pair of tiles. “I can not offer protection to every village that requests it, and I’ve found offering it at all lends to arguments as well as feelings of favouritism and unfairness.” Despite himself he smirked at the empty board. He felt a heat in his chest when he saw the look of pride Kuai was giving him. “Individuals who come to worship me are free to do so, and they are free to make requests of me, within reason.”

“So, why are you willing to consider protecting my village?”

“Because you are not like anyone else they have sent. Similar to Harumi before you, you did something that surprised me.” It was strange. Harumi and Kuai were different people, in terms of personality at least, but very similar in ways that mattered. Their opinions, their beliefs, their intelligence, their determination. Hanzo wondered if it was possible that Kuai Liang was her reincarnated and brought back to him. “Granted what she did to surprise me was very different.”

“Well, you can’t tell me that and not say how she won you over?” Kuai said with a cheeky grin.

“She walked into my temple, looked me straight in the eye and demanded that I marry her.” He felt justified in the giggle that came from Kuai. Honestly, it still made him laugh thinking back. She had come in so confident and so sure, and yet seemed surprised that her plan had actually worked. “It was such a bold move I naturally had no choice but to comply.”

“Naturally,” Kuai said with a smirk. “I think I understand why you liked her.”

“Yet you can’t seem to understand why I like you?” Hanzo pointed out, and Kuai sighed softly in return.

“Like I said, I have never had anyone really express interest in me, it has been surprising that the first person who has is a God.” To Hanzo’s surprise Kuai reached over to take his hand. “But… I also think I understand why she liked you too.”

Hanzo tried not to completely loose all composure. He was sure he was failing given the look Kuai was giving him.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Kuai parroted back at him, and there was something about the smug grin Kuai had on his face that was making Hanzo’s heart race.

“Now who’s the audacious one,” Hanzo countered, trying to remain impassive, although he knew he was absolutely failing. “And after I cleared the Mahjong board.”

“Yes, you did,” Kuai said, finally retracting his hand. Hanzo stopped himself from reaching for it again. “I’m quite proud of you for picking it up so quickly.”

“Well, I had an excellent teacher.” The modest laugh from Kuai only fuelled his admiration for the man. Hanzo picked up one of the tiles, and held it up. “Care for another game, Kuai Liang?”

“I think I have another round in me, Lord Hasashi,” Kuai replied, accepting the tile from Hanzo.

Hanzo passed the rest of his tiles over, and watched eagerly as Kuai set up a new game.

----------------------------------------------------

Kuai was getting bolder.

A lot bolder. Hanzo was genuinely pleased with how far out of his shell Kuai had come. Everyday, he got more and more open, begun to smile more, laugh more, flirt with Hanzo more.

He was even getting more bold with requesting things.

Even so, Hanzo hadn’t expected the words that came from Kuai’s mouth when he entered the throne room that morning.

“Lord Hasashi,” Kuai addressed, as he approached the throne. Hanzo was surprised, Kuai had barely been in this room since their first meeting. It was yet another sign of how comfortable Kuai Liang was getting, feeling more at ease with traversing the temple. “I was wondering if you could help me practice sparring.”

Hanzo blinked in surprise.

“Of course, but, may I ask what brought this on?” He was curious, aside from when they’d first met, Kuai hadn’t really shown much interest in fighting.

“I just wish to get better, should I ever be in another situation where I need to defend myself,” Kuai admitted, bowing his head slightly. “And I have seen the way you teach your acolytes to fight. You are a far more patient teacher than my brother was.”

Ah. Hanzo could understand that, and depending on how their relationship went, Kuai had a very valid reason for wanting a way to shield himself. Consort’s and spouses of deities tended to be targeted by those with grudges, and Hanzo wouldn’t always be able to save him. He had taught Harumi how to fight all those years ago, it would make sense for him to do the same with Kuai Liang.

It also somehow was not surprising to him to know that Kuai Liang’s brother wasn’t too good a teacher.

Kuai had potential though, Hanzo had seen that for himself already. With a little more honing Kuai could be a very fearsome warrior.

“Very well,” Hanzo replied, pushing himself off his throne. It felt like a strange repeat from only a few weeks ago, except there was a lot less at stake this time. He mentally compared how Kuai looked now compared to their first meeting. In the beginning he’d been so rigid, on edge and unsure, and now he was stood relaxed but head held high. It was wonderful to witness.

He walked over to where he kept the training weapons. While he wouldn’t be hurt by any strikes, the same couldn’t be said for Kuai Liang. He figured that injury would be quite counter productive to his current goal. He took two wooden training swords, and made his way back to Kuai.

First things first, he needed to try and correct Kuai’s form slightly.

“Here,” he handed a sword to Kuai, who accepted it without question. “To start with, your form was good, it just needs a bit of refining. Can you get into position for me?“

As Kuai positioned himself, Hanzo came up behind him. Kuai made a small huff when Hanzo touched him, but didn’t voice any complaints. Hanzo nudged Kuai’s feet with his own, making the gap between them slightly bigger. He gently pushed on Kuai’s back, straightening him out rather than hunched over like he had been.

“I know it seems like the best idea to hunch up, and make yourself small,” Hanzo explained as he grasped Kuai’s wrist to fix his hands. “But you loose a lot of movement that way.”

“I see.” Kuai made no complaints as Hanzo stepped away. He moved in front of Kuai, bringing up his own sword into a position.

“First, I’d like to see how you block,” Hanzo stated. “Your offence can only be as good as your defence, knowing when to strike is key.”

“I always wondered about that,” Kuai spoke as Hanzo went to strike. Kuai just about brought up the sword to block him. “Bi-Han always encouraged me to be more aggressive.” Kuai managed to block another attack, and Hanzo had to admit his reflexes were extremely sharp. “But I always thought just rushing someone wasn’t the best strategy.”

“What strategy would you use?” Hanzo asked, silently getting into a defensive stance and seeing if Kuai would take the chance. He did, bringing his sword down against Hanzo’s.

“Stealth, if I’m being honest,” Kuai replied, as he chanced another strike. Hanzo managed to push back, and Kuai stumbled slightly. Hanzo took another swing, feeling very pleased when Kuai managed to bring his sword in time to block the attack. “Use the element of surprise to get an upper hand in the beginning, and then use a mix of blocks and strikes to hopefully keep up the advantage or attempt to disarm my opponent.”

“Not a bad idea,” Hanzo commented, watching as Kuai tried to do a similar push back move. It didn’t work as well, mostly because Hanzo was a lot heavier than any man Kuai was used to. “It is a shame your family did not allow you to become a warrior, I get the feeling you would have been a magnificent tactician.”

Kuai laughed at that, once more trying to push Hanzo away when their swords collided. It was at this point his eyes narrowed, and Hanzo could practically see the his mind working out a new way to get the sword off his sparing partner. He was curious what Kuai would do, how he would come up with a plan in the heat of the moment.

So Hanzo just continued to alternate between attacking and defending, giving Kuai chance to practise both and come up with his plan to disarm Hanzo. Granted, this wouldn’t happen on the battlefield, but if Kuai could think and adapt his plans in the middle of a fight, it would give him an invaluable skill.

It didn’t take Kuai long to set his plan into motion, when as Hanzo sliced forward, Kuai ducked. The sword just went over Kuai’s head, missing him by a hair. Once it had cleared Kuai’s head, he jumped back to his feet, and struck a hit at Hanzo’s hand. There was no pain but the surprise of the move was enough for Hanzo unclenched his hand and let go.

Hanzo watched the wooden sword fall to the floor, and before he could even think about going to grab it, he found the point of Kuai’s at his neck. He looked over, not even bothering to hide how elated he was.

“Do you yield, Lord Hasashi?” Kuai asked, and he looked as serious as he had that first day they met. He looked so handsome when he meant business.

Hanzo broke out into a grin as he said “you’re so beautiful.”

“I’m starting to think you might have a thing for getting your ass handed to you,” Kuai commented, taking Hanzo’s compliment to mean an admittance of defeat.

“Only when it’s you,” Hanzo replied, because it was true. Sure he had been defeated in the past, but absolutely none of those defeats felt fulfilling. That was a feeling reserved solely for Kuai Liang. “I am serious though, with some more training, you would make a formidable foe.”

“Well, it’s a good job I have an excellent teacher.” It seemed Kuai’s favourite way to flirt was throwing Hanzo’s compliments back at him. “Would you care for another round, Lord Hasashi?”

Hanzo walked over to where his sword lay on the floor, picking it up and holding it out.

“It would be my honour.”

----------------------------------------------------

The comfort of night was soothing to Hanzo. As a god he did not need to sleep, so he often went to watch the sun set and then rise again. The majority of his acolytes were asleep, as well as Kuai Liang, and there had only ever been a handful of nighttime emergencies over the years.

He liked to sit on the roof of his temple and look up at the moon and stars, the lunar gods and goddesses took such good care of them. It was sad that only the most dedicated of mortals ever got to see them. Hanzo appreciated them though, and often let them know by way of gifts from his temple to theirs.

“So, this is where you hide at night.”

Hanzo turned in surprise at the voice, to see Kuai clambering up to the roof himself.

“You should be sleeping,” Hanzo commented, although really, he would not argue against spending more time with Kuai.

“I couldn’t sleep, I’ve been thinking too much,” Kuai explained as he carefully made his way over the tiles to sit next to Hanzo. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Of course.” Hanzo worried if it was too cold out here for Kuai. He wasn’t wearing his usual hanfu, instead donning a kimono one of the acolytes had lent to him. “Is there something wrong?”

Kuai cleared his throat, “it has been a month since I came here.” Ah. It has, hasn’t it? To Hanzo that was barely any time but he acknowledged that for Kuai it was a lot longer. “I think soon my village will want an answer.”

“I see,” Hanzo hummed. He agreed, the Lin Kuei would start to get impatient. If Hanzo had his way, Kuai would stay indefinitely without fear of having to go back, but he knew that was not to be. “Well, the answer does depend on what you want.”

Kuai opened his mouth, before quickly closing it. He smiled shyly, before reaching his hands to Hanzo’s face and cradling his cheeks careful, as Kuai lent forward so their faces were directly in front of each other. Hanzo wondered for a moment what he was doing.

And then Kuai’s lips met his.

Hanzo gasped in surprise, it took a few seconds for him to really take in what was happening. His own hands worked on instinct, one wrapping around Kuai’s back and pulling him close while the other cradled the back of his head. He tried not to feel disappointed by Kuai pulling away.

“Does that explain what I want?” Kuai said, suddenly looking shy and biting his lip. Hanzo wanted nothing more than to bite it for him.

“Hm, it might need a bit more explanation,” Hanzo teased, and it was completely worth it when Kuai lent in to kiss him again. This time, Hanzo opened his mouth, using his tongue to encourage Kuai to do the same. As Kuai silently agreed to the request, Hanzo let his tongue slip inside. It was clear Kuai did not have as much experience as Hanzo, but it didn’t matter, it was still wonderful. Hanzo pulled away long enough to whisper “Will you allow me to make love to you?”

“Yes, but-“ Kuai shifted back slightly, brow furrowed and lips tights. “I’ve- uh- I’ve never been intimate with anyone before.”

“That’s okay,” Hanzo assured, using his grip on Kuai’s back to guide the man to straddle his lap. “We will go at whatever pace you find comfortable, and nothing will continue if you do not wish it to.”

“Thank you,” Kuai said gently, settling himself on Hanzo’s lap. “I- Ah- I guess this is the part where I start to take off my clothes?“

Hanzo’s hand reached for the Obi cinched around Kuai’s midsection, pulling it off. Kuai’s own hands went to Hanzo’s armour, trying to unclasp the various clasps holding it in place. Kuai huffed in annoyance as he struggled to figure out how to do it. Hanzo took pity on him, taking his hands to his chest armour and unclipping everything. As the armour fell away, he discarded it, before taking the fabric of his undershirt and removed it too. Hanzo tried not to have an ego, but god the way Kuai’s eyes widened at his bare chest, particularly his abs, definitely stroked it.

“You seem impressed,” Hanzo noted, gently taking Kuai’s hands in his and placing them on his chest. Kuai’s face went that beautiful shade of red it tended to go. “You were so bold moments ago, it’s cute that you can go from that to so shy.”

Kuai’s hands began to explore his chest, squeezing his muscles, fingers brushing against Hanzo’s nipples. Hanzo’s hands reached for the kimono, pulling it away but letting it remain over Kuai’s shoulders. The weather was mild after all, and at least this would Kuai would have something other than Hanzo’s body heat to keep him warm.

Kuai’s body was beautiful, a work of art. He’d suspected Kuai had some sort of muscle, given how powerful his strike could be, but he didn’t expect them to be quite as defined as they were.

As if sensing the silent question, Kuai explained with, “being a healer requires me to carry the injured.”

“I see,” Hanzo purred, reaching his own hands forward to start to feel for himself. His hands squeezed at Kuai’s pecs, before his thumbs went to circle Kuai’s nipples. Kuai immediately groaned and arched his back. “So sensitive.”

Kuai made a cute whimper as Hanzo pinched lightly. This was definitely something Hanzo wanted to explore more, but it might be a bit much for a first time. He let his hands go lower, fingers trailing along Kuai’s skin. His hands hooked into Kuai’s underwear and began to pull them down, enough for Kuai’s cock to spring free. Kuai looked flustered by the fact he was already half hard.

“Don’t feel embarrassed,” Hanzo tried to gently assure, wrapping his hand around Kuai’s cock and giving it a slow stroke. “This is a compliment.” Just Hanzo’s hand seemed to be overwhelming for Kuai, if the way his hands reached for Hanzo’s shoulders was anything to go by. “Are you well?”

“Y-yes,” Kuai replied with a groan. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Hanzo whispered, pressing another kiss to Kuai’s lips as he begun to pump his hand in a steady rhythm, the lovely feeling of Kuai getting harder with every stroke. Kuai gave a gasping moan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” Kuai whispered, his hips thrusting in jerky unsure movements. “Ah. No one’s ever touched me before.”

“Have you ever touched yourself?” Hanzo questioned, twisting his hand and enjoying the way it made Kuai shudder.

“No. We were discouraged. Too high a chance at being caught,” Kuai said between laboured breathes while shaking his head.

“A shame,” Hanzo grumbled. Exploring ones own body was such a natural urge, Hanzo had no idea where mortals got the impression the gods disapproved of such things, but he cursed whomever spread that misinformation.

Hanzo pulled out a vial of oil from his lower pocket, and with one hand still on Kuai’s cock he undid the lid with his other, trying to apply some to his fingers.

“I see you’re prepared,” Kuai said with a sly smiled. “Did your godly powers tell you I was coming?”

Hanzo chucked, he knew how it looked. Truth was, the oil tended to come in useful for other emergencies, it just happened to also be safe to use as a lubricant.

“Maybe,” Hanzo snorted, happy that he’d gotten at least one of his fingers coated in the oil. He reached behind Kuai, using the digit to search for his entrance. As he pressed against it, he felt Kuai stiffen a little. “Relax, and let me know if I’m hurting you.”

Kuai nodded, as Hanzo slowly began to press his finger in. Kuai clenched his hands, fingernails digging into Hanzo’s skin.

“I’m okay,” Kuai stated before Hanzo could ask. “It just feels strange.”

“It will at first,” Hanzo replied, pressing a kiss into Kuai’s neck and starting to pump his cock a little harder, hoping the sensations would help distract from the unusual feeling of the finger. “But I have to open you for me, otherwise I could hurt you.”

“I understand.” Kuai’s body began to settle again, Hanzo slowly began to push his finger in and out, trying to spread the oil and encourage Kuai’s entrance to relax. “My brother explained some things to me, but with women.” Kuai’s face screwed up a little, but not from discomfort. “He doesn’t know I…”

Kuai’s voice trailed off, but Hanzo had a feeling he knew how the sentence would have ended.

“He doesn’t know you are attracted to men?” Hanzo questioned, as he realised Kuai was probably ready for another finger.

“No,” Kuai said with a shake of the head. Hanzo slipped his finger free, reaching for the oil to apply some on a second finger. “Our village doesn’t think it’s proper. If my friend hadn’t turned me down, we would have had to keep our relationship secret.” Hanzo wondered now if that had been the true reason for the rejection. “But I’m not scared of their reactions with you.”

“Oh?” Hanzo prompted, pushing his two fingers back inside Kuai. Kuai jolted slightly in surprise, but to Hanzo’s astonishment seconds later he was pushing himself down, trying to take more of Hanzo’s fingers inside him.

“You are a god, who are they to refuse your desires?” Kuai sighed, his voice starting to sound blissed out. “If those that made our world what it is do not find it shameful, then can it really be as wrong as the Grandmaster says?”

“You should never have felt ashamed of your feelings,” Hanzo hummed, gently pressing a third finger inside. “I will make sure you never experience those fears again.” He used his thumb to circle the head of Kuai’s cock, causing the man to buck in his lap. “Anything you want can not be wrong.”

Kuai made a small content purr, leaning in for another kiss, as his hands continued to explore Hanzo’s body. They made their way to Hanzo’s biceps, and lingered their for a lot longer than anywhere else. He could feel Kuai smiled against his lips, and those fingers traces the definition lines.

Hanzo chanced a forth finger, Kuai showed no resistance. It was soon after that Hanzo decided Kuai was ready for him. He pulled his fingers free and let go of Kuai’s cock, holding in a laugh when Kuai made a short needy sound at the loss. He brought his hands to his own belt, pulling his trousers down just enough to bring out his own cock. Kuai gasped and bit his lip.

Hanzo took one of Kuai’s hands off his bicep, bringing it up to his mouth before kissing the knuckle, before guiding it down. Kuai immediately got the assignment, and once his hand was low enough, he wrapped it around Hanzo’s cock. His inexperience showed, as he didn’t seem sure what to do, but Hanzo was more than happy just having his hand on him.

He grabbed the oil again, pouring a generous amount over his cock. This prompted Kuai to begin to move his hand, using it to spread the oil over. Hanzo groaned, the feeling was pure bliss, but he knew it would be nothing compared to being inside Kuai.

When he was satisfied, he went to grab Kuai by the waist. Kuai moved both his arms around Hanzo’s shoulders, as Hanzo lifted him and brought him closer. He lowered him again, reaching down to his own cock and guiding it toward Hanzo’s entrance.

“Stay relaxed, and tell me if you need to stop at any point,” he instructed, before slowly letting Kuai sink down onto his cock. Kuai let out a breath as he was penetrated, causing Hanzo to pause with just the tip inside. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” Kuai said in shaky voice, “just, slowly, please?”

“Of course,” Hanzo assured, kissing Kuai’s forehead. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

It was a slow process, every so often Kuai would tell Hanzo to keep going, before asking to take a pause. This was fine, the last thing Hanzo wanted to do was hurt Kuai Liang. It took a few minutes, but finally he bottomed out, Kuai comfortably sitting on Hanzo’s thighs with his cock buried deep inside him. Hanzo kept him there, letting him get used to the feeling, rubbing circles in Kuai’s hips to reassure him.

“I’m ready,” Kuai finally confirmed.

“Okay, we’ll take it slow,” Hanzo assured, moving his hands slightly to grab Kuai’s ass.

He used his grip to encourage Kuai to lift himself using his knees. It was only a few inches, before he guided him back down. Kuai shuddered slightly, and Hanzo knew he had probably just brushed up against Kuai’s prostate. To his surprise, Kuai took in initiative to lift himself up again.

“That’s it,” Hanzo encouraged, “just do what feels right.” Hanzo squeezed his hands, Kuai’s ass was wonderful to just knead and play with. “Do what makes you feel good.”

“Hanzo,” Kuai breathed out. Hanzo had to hold back his joy. He called me Hanzo. Not Lord Hasashi. Hanzo!

It was amazing how quickly Kuai took to this. Soon he had started a rhythm, lifting himself up and down, his breaths coming out in quick pants and moans. Hanzo took a chance to buck his hips up as Kuai dropped, and the loud groan that came from Kuai’s lips was heaven.

Hanzo finally let go of Kuai’s ass, one hand reaching for his chin and the other going down to his cock again. He kissed Kuai once again, stroking his cock in time to the thrusts. He eagerly swallowed every desperate sound that came from Kuai’s lips. He could feel the other man trembling, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

His assessment was proven correct when minutes later, Kuai made a particularly loud noise, and Hanzo began to feel his hand growing wet. Kuai clenched around him, and Hanzo brought Kuai all the way down before allowing himself to reach his own climax. He kept stroking Kuai’s cock, making sure his love was fully satisfied before anything else.

Hanzo let himself gently fall back, pulling Kuai with him. Kuai lay atop him, not yet bothering to remove his cock, the connection feeling too nice to break from for now. He wrapped his arms around, holding him close.

“Are you well, my love?” Hanzo asked. If there was anything he could do to please Kuai Liang, he would in a heartbeat.

“I am better than I’ve ever been,” Kuai whispered, his eyes closed and nuzzling into Hanzo’s chest. “You are wonderful.”

“You are the wonderful one,” Hanzo assured, trailing his hand along Kuai’s spine. “I am blessed that you graced the walls of my temple.” The smile of Kuai’s face was beautiful. “How are you feeling about our courting?”

“I love you, and I would love to be your husband one day,” Kuai admitted, “but the prospect of rushing into it still scares me.”

“That is only natural,” Hanzo assured, “like with everything, we can go at your pace. I would be honoured, however, if you agreed to be my consort.”

“I would like that,” Kuai said, sounding half asleep.

Hanzo kissed Kuai’s forehead again, feeling him begin to fall asleep in his arms. He lay back and gazed at the stars, the flames of his love ignited to a degree he had not felt since Harumi.

I truly am blessed.

----------------------------------------------------

Hanzo couldn’t help smirking to himself as he followed behind Kuai. He had never actually been to the Lin Kuei village, and given everything he knew about how Kuai Liang was treated, he couldn’t wait to see the other villagers faces when they saw the two of them together.

He could see the gates to the village, two guards stood out on post. Hanzo decided to hold back a few seconds. He wished to observe the interaction first. Kuai glanced behind him, sensing that Hanzo had stopped, and just nodded. He loved how Kuai just instinctively knew his plan.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the one guard started, his tone harsh and mocking.

“Can’t help but notice you’re alone,” the other taunted, crossing his arms and looking so very smug. “It took you a month to come back empty handed. Looks like the Grandmaster was right, you are useless.”

Kuai said nothing, just turned his body to look behind him. Hanzo took the queue to walk out of the shadows. Oh, the way those smug looks dissolved from their faces was so satisfying. The two men stared at him with open mouths, before they looked at Kuai again.

“Hanzo would like to speak with the Grandmaster regarding the terms of our agreement.”

The two guard’s didn’t move a muscle, their eyes had widened when Kuai had referred to him as Hanzo however. As much as their reaction was amusing, Hanzo was growing impatient with their incompetence. He made a circle motion with his hand, and this warning seemed to be enough to snap them into action.

They led the way through the village, Hanzo always staying a few steps behind Kuai Liang. It was customary usually for a consort to follow their God, but Hanzo wanted to make a point. That Kuai had earned his loyalty, where all others had failed, and as such, Hanzo would follow him to the edge of the earth.

As they made their way, passers by stopped what they were doing to watch. He could hear disbelieving whispers that Lord Hasashi had finally graced their village. Some even followed them, clearly hoping to be witness to what was about to happen.

As they came to a village square, a crowd began to form around them. Two men in particular pushed their way to the front. One Hanzo recognised as Bi-Han, the other was unfamiliar but given he had grey hair, Hanzo matched it to a description of Tomas that Kuai had given him. Both men were looking at Kuai like he’d just accomplished an impossible feat. On the other side, a few people gathered who wore similar hanfu’s to Kuai had worn. One in particular, a man with dark skin and wearing yellow, looked at him with a proud smile on his face. They must have been Kuai’s fellow healer’s and Hanzo made note to get Kuai to introduce them later.

It wasn’t long before the Grandmaster was approaching, and his face was the most delicious of them all. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Lord Hasashi,” he started, sounding like his mind was scrambling to make sense of what was happening. “You have actually heeded our calling.”

“I have,” Hanzo answered, waiting for the excited and surprised mutterings from the crowd to go down. “I think you will find that Kuai Liang has negotiated a very fair deal.”

“I… See,” The Grandmaster said, straightening out as he looked towards Kuai with a very disbelieving look. Disgusting, even with the evidence in front of him, he doesn’t think Kuai capable. Hanzo was going to enjoy making him squirm with his conditions. “What exactly is this deal?”

“I will offer your village the protection you have been craving,” Hanzo began, reaching to place his hand on Kuai’s shoulder. “And in exchange, Kuai Liang shall be my consort.”

There were a few shocked gasps throughout the crowd, and the Grandmaster’s face looked somewhere between disgusted and scandalised. Hanzo glanced around the crowd, looking towards the healers just in time to see the man in yellow whisper to his colleagues “that’s our Kuai”. The other healers seemed happy. On the other side however, neither Tomas or Bi-Han looked happy with this news. Tomas looked devastated, and while Hanzo had some sympathy regarding his situation, the other bitter part of him couldn’t help thinking, good, you lost your chance.

Bi-Han though. Bi-Han looked furious. It looked like he was using all his strength to hold himself back from just walking over and punching Hanzo in the face.

“Is there a problem with this proposal, Grandmaster?” Kuai asked innocently, tilting his head. Hanzo couldn’t quite see his face, but he could imagine the faux smile on his face.

“I-“

“I would like to establish, that the protection is your choice Grandmaster,” Hanzo began, his voice low and threatening, “Kuai Liang has agreed to be my consort, regardless of if you take my deal or not, so it really matter’s little to me what you decide. I would however advise you to make the right decision, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster stared at Hanzo in stunned silence, although there was another ripple of whispers surrounding them. It seemed to be sinking in that Hanzo was serious, and that none of this really matter to him. The only reason he was here was because of Kuai Liang.

“Okay,” The Grandmaster finally spoke in a resigned voice, looking like he also realised that if he didn’t take this deal, then Hanzo would never offer another chance. “I agree to your conditions, Lord Hasashi.”

“Excellent. I will send some of my acolytes to make the arrangements of my protection.” Hanzo brushed his hand like he was done with it, but there was one more condition he needed to make clear. “Of course Grandmaster, you do realise that as Kuai Liang is now my consort, I expect him to be treated as such.” He reached down to stroke Kuai’s cheek, enjoying the purr that came from Kuai’s throat at the contact. “He is to be given the highest level of respect. If I even so much as think that he is being disrespected or mistreated in any way, by you or any of your followers, then I will revoke my protection, and you will rue the day you invoked my wrath.”

Hanzo did not give chance for reply, he bent down lifting Kuai into a bridal carry, as he turned on his heels and began to walk away. Kuai softly giggled in his arms, and once again he thought of how this man had brought the light back to his life.

He was complete again.

----------------------------------------------------

“Hanzo!”

As Kuai entered the temple, Hanzo felt his mouth turn up into a smile. Two nearby acolytes giggled and cooed softly over how lovesick Hanzo was. Sometimes he wasn’t sure who was more enthusiastic about the relationship, Kuai Liang and himself or the acolytes.

It had been a few months since they had made their conditions clear with the Lin Kuei, and things had only gotten better. Kuai had so much more confidence, it allowed everyone around to truly take in what an outstanding person he was. They had no more troubles with the Lin Kuei, although Hanzo got the feeling Bi-Han was still not happy about things.

But he didn’t matter. Only Kuai did.

And Kuai was flourishing!

“My love,” Hanzo greeted warming, getting off his chair to go and greet his consort. It still felt so unreal to call this man that. He gave him a peck on the lips. “How was the Lin Kuei?”

“They are doing well,” Kuai said with a smile, while he went into his satchel and pulled out a glass bottle of red liquid. “Cyrax sends his thanks for the ointments,” Kuai began, giving the bottle to Hanzo. He frowned at it. “Apparently, he has taken up brewing alcohols in his spare time, this is his first attempt at wine. He thought being the first to taste it was a fair gift in return.”

Hanzo chuckled, he hadn’t intended to recieve anything in return, but well, who could say no to a glass of wine?

“Well, why don’t we taste it together,” Hanzo offered his arm, and Kuai gladly linked up with him. “Say, over a game of Mahjong?”

Kuai’s face lit up even further, “I couldn’t possibly say no to such a tempting offer.”

And off they went, arm in arm, and Hanzo knew that he had made the right choice in asking Kuai Liang to be his own.

#subscorpweek #subscorp #mortal kombat #kuai liang #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #🔥❄️subscorp week 2022

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amazing-spiderling · 2 years

Note

top 5 asks: fics you've read recently, songs you've played on repeat lately, things you bought yourself on a whim, snacks , things that made you happy in the past few weeks, hopes for the new DD series, fic tropes

SO MANY ASKS AhhHHhh I'll do my best!

Top 5 Fics You've Read Recently:

I have to be honest, I do reread a lot of fic!

The Blinker System - MissMoochy (WIP) : Robot Matt! Robot Matt! Robot MAAAATTTTT!!!

Show Me Your Scars - pogopop : I've read this one a few times. It's got that delightful payoff from the emotional hurt that eventually shifts into acceptance and healing

You're On The List of Things I'll Never Leave Behind - yourbestkeptsecret: Ughhhh, yeah the blip would suck for those left behind but I don't hear a lot of people talking about the pain that comes from adjusting when people's loved ones return to a world they don't recognize. Top shelf feels

A Murder of Crows (A Seduction of Foes) - inkforhumanhands: okay maybe I'm biased bc this was a gift FOR MEEEE but it's also an absolutely baller fic and it has all of my favorite things including Murderdock and Foggy in college and CHRISTMAS and it's just GOOD ok

Bad Moon Rising - 94bottlesofsnapple : A werewolf story that jumps right into things and those things are very, very good. Love Matt's characteristic freak-out and Foggy's no-nonsense way of handling things. Probably going to read this again for spooky season.

Top Five Songs You've Played on Repeat Lately

(I don't know that I do endless loops of songs too often, but songs that have cropped up a lot in the last few weeks include)

Cameo Lover - Kimbra, Dream of You - Jazz Emu, Underneath it All - No Doubt, Skullcrusher Mountain - John Coltrane, Black Sheep - Metric

Top Five Things You Bought Yourself ON a Whim

I'm just gonna speak recently because I cannot remember a whole life's worth of impulse purchases. IDK if it's a pure whim, but a dress I wanted that had been sold out showed up on a used site so I snatched it up. One of my favorite musicians released an LP and I was half asleep in bed scrolling on my phone when I saw the announcement but I jumped out of bed to purchase it lol. Some spice packet to make Thai coconut curry soup. Some used copies of various Rock Band games for the X-Box 360. I've missed being able to go to karaoke and this gives me that little bit of fun back. A "Hero Lawyer" figure? Doll? Idk. 12 fancy offbrand marvel man.

Top Five Snacks

I eat a lot of nuts and seeds. Pumpkin seeds/Sunflower seeds and the like. Sometimes I make them into hummus but usually it's just a handful. I like those Snap Pea crisps in the light salt. I'm a little bit addicted to the garlic Bombay mix I pick up at the local Indian supermarket. Greek yogurt with granola or grapenuts cereal. My favorite movie snack is those terrible nachos. XD

Top Five Things that Made You Happy In The Past Few Weeks

Taking my dogs out to the park now that the weather is cool enough to do so. Being giddy with fandom friends over She-Hulk and Werewolf By Night. Getting to use my Halloween sprinkles to make festive baked goods and take them to a small outdoor tea party. Eating half a baguette with nice butter at a cafe. Beating Rock Band 3 on my own and watching all the avatars I made of my blorbos achieve rock and roll stardom in the FMVs.

Top Five Fic Tropes

Hurt/Comfort, Long distance start (penpals, voice or text only etc), Monsters (vampires, werewolves whatever), Mutual Pining, Character Insecurity

Top Five Hopes For the New DD Season

Kirsten McDuffie! Let's bring in more characters from the comics! Some more wtf villains like (but not limited to) Stilt-Man. I mean, Jessica Jones gave us a version of the Whizzer, I feel like there's room for exploration. More of Matt and Foggy's actual friendship so that if/when things get rough for them, it hurts more. >:) A reference to the events of NWH so we have a little understanding of just what Matt remembers from his involvement so we can throw the fanfic authors a bone. SAMMMMMMYYYY!!!!!

#thanks for the ask #haha all of them

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aphrodite-made-me-write-it · 2 years

Text

Dawnbringer - Part One

(A/N) um, idk what to really say other than i wanted a werewolf kate fic and then i wrote one so here’s the first chapter alskfdj probably won’t be long, 4-6 chapters max just beefy and dripping with plot

read it on ao3

Rating: E (Explicit eventually, rn it’s fine)

Warnings: Dark Themes; Supernatural Creatures; Werewolf Tropes; Vague Prophecies; Legions of the Undead; Vampiric Overlords; Sapphic Pining; Gay Panic; Darcy Lewis being a fucking g; R’s parents had a nasty divorce and they’re not great ppl but they love R so at least we dont have entirely fucked up parents in this fic lmfao; that’s it for now but this will eventually have p0rn as usual so let’s just get that warning out there now

Pairing: Werewolf!Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Total Word Count: 5.3k (for now)

Synopsis: After an uneventful party, your night becomes a whole lot more eventful when you meet an enormous blue-eyed wolf.

| Part One | Part Two |

You don’t typically attend the outrageous weekend parties that your friends enjoy frequenting, but this week has been rough to say the least. With finals rapidly approaching, the tests and assignments thrust upon you for your final year in college have piled up to an alarming proportion. If the stress of that weren’t enough to kill you, during what few hours of sleep you’re able to steal, you’re restless. Strange dreams that you can’t remember upon waking up haunt your evenings, leaving you uneasy in the morning and anxious throughout the day.

So, really, you just came to the party for the free booze and hopefully force yourself into having some fun. It didn’t last long, though. Your friends ditched you, and you ended up spending the last hour and a half on a couch in the corner of the dingy frat basement. You only really gained the energy to leave when some guy started talking to you about NFTs.

The waning half moon bathes the campus in her hooded gaze, illuminating the sidewalk better than the flickering yellow street lamps. The evening air is blissful against your overheated skin, the party apparently being warmer than you thought it was. It’s quiet as you make your way towards your apartment complex, which, thankfully, isn’t very far from your university.

Cedar and maple trees line the street, and the further you walk towards your apartment, the thicker their numbers grow. Joined by sycamore and oak, the forest that resides directly across from your building is typically alive with insects and frogs this late at night.

Only halfway to your apartment do you realize that the forest is silent and still as death.

Something primal kicks in, pushing away all remnants of the hard seltzers you’d nursed over the course of the party. Your senses come alive in a way they never have before, your ears straining to pick up on any noise and the darkness seeming brighter. You can even smell more clearly as the adrenaline pumps into your veins.

A low growl spills from the darkness. Terror grips you, your entire body seizing as the instinct to fight and the instinct to flee begin to go at war within your body and mind. In the end, your fearful state gives the creature plenty of time to slip from the shadows of the trees.

An enormous black wolf, bigger than any you have ever seen before, approaches you with its head lowered and hackles raised. Piercing blue eyes seem to look right through you as its lips curl back to reveal long, sharp teeth.

You make peace with death in the milliseconds between the wolf lunging at you and the moment you realize it’s running right past you. Dazed and petrified, you can only stumble until you’re turned around, watching the creature pounce on another person. A man.

The man lets out a furious snarl that the wolf meets with a snarl of its own. To your amazement, even as the wolf rips into the man’s flesh, no blood spills. Not a single drop. In fact, the skin seems to turn to stone the second the wolf manages to tear off an arm.

The man shoves the wolf away with such strength you gasp. The wolf goes flying into the woods, and in the blink of an eye the man is on you. You cry out in fear, his only arm coming up to grip your throat and tilt your head viciously to the side.

It occurs to you that perhaps the wolf had been protecting you. You call out for it, “Come back! Help!” and though you don’t expect a wild animal to obey you, to your amazement, the black wolf comes bounding out of the tree line again. This time, there’s a new fury in its blue gaze.

It stops short when it realizes the grip the man has on you, teeth bared in a threatening growl.

“You can’t stop us, mutt,” the man hisses, his hands ice cold on your skin. “She’s coming with me.”

You squirm hard against him, fear coursing through your body and making you tremble uncontrollably. His strength is alarming, his body feeling hard as a statue as you fight against it. “W-what do you want from me? Let me go!”

“Quiet!” The man snaps, squeezing your throat so hard you nearly blackout. “Once we awaken her blood, she’ll bring forth our master and-”

The wolf lunges. You faintly register a stinging in your shoulder when the man is ripped away from you. You’re thrown to the ground, body finally giving into the uncontrollable trembles that have overtaken it. You can do nothing but cower and cover your head as screams and vicious growls fill the air. What sounds like hard stone being split open cracks into the night, the following silence ringing with your terror.

Warm breath on your shoulder makes you whimper and flinch. A wet nose nudges against your skin, a tongue soothing over throbbing flesh. You’ve been wounded. You hadn’t quite picked up on it right away, but as you force your eyes open you’re met with the sight of a bloodied shoulder, what looks to be claw marks from when the wolf had gone for the man.

You jump in alarm when you realize the wolf is right there, right next to you, and it had licked your shoulder. The creature gives a low whine, blue eyes meeting yours apologetically. It strikes you how intelligent those eyes are, as if there were some sort of humanistic understanding in them.

You let out a shaky breath, turning over so you can sit up and face the animal. It doesn’t move, though it watches you with those strange eyes intently. With slightly shaking fingers, you reach out and stroke the creature’s neck. Its shining black fur is softer than you thought it would be, the beast calmer than you’ve ever heard of any wild wolf being.

This has to be some sort of dream.

You’ve had strange dreams all your life, and this has to be one of them.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, and the wolf tilts its head as if confused.

“I’ve never had a wolf save me in my dreams before,” you say, because you may as well talk to the creature if this is all a dream. Because wolves can’t understand humans, because this wolf is too big to be a wolf. It doesn’t answer, as one should expect from a wolf. “Usually the monsters get me.”

At this, another low whine slips from it. You pet it absentmindedly, wondering when you’ll wake up. Typically, when you realize you’re dreaming again, you wake right back up. This doesn’t seem to be the case tonight, however. And that wound on your arm is smarting.

“This… this isn’t a dream, is it?” You ask.

The wolf shakes its head. You stare at it in astonishment. There it is, confirmation that this wolf understands you and that this isn’t a dream.

You stand on shaking legs, scoffing. The wolf moves as if to help you stand, then hesitates.

“I can’t… do this right now, I’m sorry. Creepy stone men that try to kill me and wolves that can understand me are enough crazy for one night, thank you very much.”

The wolf stares at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear it was smiling.

“Well, thanks for the save,” you clear your throat and look at your shoulder with a wince. “I guess I’ll never forget you.”

The wolf whines again when you make to leave. You sigh. “What, do you want to walk me home or something?” The beast steps forward. “Okay,” you nod. “Alright, fine. Um. Cool. I hope this doesn’t mean you expect any food because I’m literally broke and don’t have any… wolf food… in my apartment.”

The wolf snorts. Okay, yeah, you’re losing your mind.

You start towards the building again, feeling far safer with this gigantic monster at your side than you have ever felt walking down a dark street in the middle of the night. It keeps to the side of the road that the woods border, the shadows of the trees cloaking its massive form as it easily keeps pace with you with its long legs.

“So, if I’m really going crazy,” you say slowly, “and you really understand me… are you able to tell me what the hell that thing was back there?”

The wolf looks at you curiously, but shakes its head.

“Okay. Um.” You breathe through puckered lips thoughtfully. “Are you a boy?” It shakes its head ‘no’. “A girl?” A nod. The action looks so strange on the animal, you’re again caught off-guard. “Oh. Okay. Cool. Girls looking out for girls. I respect it.” The wolf snorts again, a low rumble that almost sounds like laughter coming from its chest.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never talked to a six-foot-tall wolf before. I don’t know what to ask you about.” You huff a little, though a smile is pulling at your lips. You see your apartment complex clearly, now, the parking lot illuminating the night like a beacon of safety. The wolf begins to slow her pace, so you follow suit and eye her curiously.

“So… whatever that guy was,” you begin quietly. “Should I… expect more of them?”

The wolf hesitates before giving a slow, cautious nod.

“Then… should I expect you, too?”

When the wolf nods again, she wags her tail.

“Okay,” you release a shuddering breath. “Okay, cool. Well, I’ll… see you around, then?”

The wolf steps towards you, lowering her head. You pet her between her ears, feeling far more relaxed now than you had been before. The pain in your shoulder is starting to get to you, now, but the bleeding stopped quicker than you thought it would. The wolf eyes your wound when you remove your palm from her head, a flash of worry in her gaze.

“It’s fine,” you assure her, gesturing to the scratch. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”

You can’t quite shake the concern that rises in you when the wolf only stares solemnly at you in response. You give a final wave goodbye to your odd companion before crossing the dead street. Once you reach the entrance, a beautiful sound catches your attention. Ominous and haunting, it fills the night with one of nature’s most ancient and haunting melodies: the call of the wolf.

- - -

“You hear about the transfer from Columbia?” Darcy asks casually as she takes the desk next to yours.

“How the hell would I hear about a transfer from Columbia?” You scoff.

“She was at the party on Saturday.” She shrugs, pulling their bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s totally your type, I’m surprised you didn’t notice her.”

“And what, pray tell, is my type?” You eye your friend with a suspicious snort.

You and Darcy Lewis have been best friends since fifth grade, when your mom’s first holistic phase lead to an insanely restrictive diet and you promised Darcy your eternal friendship in exchange for some of her animal crackers. Needless to say, you have no plans on breaking that promise any time soon.

Darcy wasn’t much of a partygoer, either, but finals have had her stressed, too, and once she gets a few shots in her Darcy becomes the life of the party. You hadn’t told her about your encounter with the wolf, as you hadn’t seen the animal since. The wound had nearly been gone yesterday and by today all that remained of it was a sliver of a scar that looked as though it had been there forever.

Still, the encounter haunts the edges of your mind.

“Your type,” Darcy begins slowly, catching your attention again. “Is what you were bullied by in high school. The hot jocks.”

Your jaw drops. “What? That’s not even remotely true.”

“Remember Carol two years ago?”

You groan. “That’s not fair, she’s broken like twenty hearts since then.”

“Right. And what about back in high school, that cheerleader? Hailee?”

“I’m pretty sure we agreed to never speak her name again.”

“My point,” the brunette smacks her hands on the desk conclusively. “Is that your type are hot girls with big guns and nice buns.”

“I wish I could unhear that sentence.”

“Don’t even lie, that was-”

“Hi, can I sit here?” A voice behind you pulls your attention away from Darcy and suddenly you’re tongue tied. A girl with long, dark hair is standing at the desk beside you, eyebrow raising questioningly when you don’t give an immediate response.

“Whoa, what a coincidence!” Darcy’s voice is too chipper, you immediately know you’ve been caught in your gay panic. “Kate Bishop, right? From Columbia?” Well, shit.

“Yep,” Kate tucks one of her hands bashfully into the pocket of her varsity jacket while the other drops her bag on the floor beneath the desk. She slides into the seat and gives a lazy smile that shows off her dimples. Holy shit. “What’s the coincidence? Were you talking about me or something?”

Her icy blue eyes cast between you and Darcy before landing on you. A shock of familiarity washes over you, though you can’t quite place the feeling.

“We were, actually,” Darcy says at the same time as you say, “No, we weren’t.”

Kate laughs, her rich voice almost a growl as she says, “That’s comforting. Nothing bad, I hope?” Again, her gaze shifts to you in a strange way, as if silently communicating a question that you can’t pick up on.

“Not at all.” Darcy assures. “I was just telling (Y/N) about how you got your scholarship for archery. (Y/N)’s got a bit of a thing for the athletic arts.”

You cringe. “Darce-”

“Athletic arts?” Kate repeats with a snort. “I’ve never heard that one before.” She gives you a sly grin. “Does your friend always try to set you up like this?”

“Pretty much,” you nod, blushing.

“Hey!” Darcy protests.

Mercifully, the professor shows up and requests silence from the class.

As the lecture goes on, you often find yourself looking at Kate. Sometimes, you think you sense her looking at you, too, but when you try and catch her she’s casually looking ahead as if she hadn’t moved at all.

You can’t shake that odd tugging in the back of your mind. That sense of familiarity. Maybe you had seen her at the party, and forgotten? That couldn’t be possible. Your gay little mind wouldn’t let you forget her.

As much as you hated to admit it, Darcy was right. Kate Bishop is certainly your type. She takes off her purple and black jacket halfway through class, her tank top exposing strong biceps. You knew archery worked out like, all of your arm and shoulder muscles, but like, wow. Beyond that, Kate’s softer features are so disarmingly beautiful you have to force yourself to pay attention to the class you pay for the longer you look at her.

Finally, as the lecture comes to an end and the chatter of your peers once again fills the room, you allow yourself to get a good look at the archer. Only to find that Kate is looking right back at you, a smile on her lips.

“Can I get your number?” She asks.

A blush is back on your cheeks. “Y-yeah, totally.”

The brunette gives you her phone and you try to pretend your hands aren’t shaking as you type your number into a new contact. She’s already gathered her things by the time you give the phone back to her.

“I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” she says with a wink, stunning you further into silence as she turns to leave.

“You need to trust me more.” Darcy states cheekily.

“Shut up.” You huff.

What a weird fucking week.

- - -

Unknown hey :) it’s kate well obviously it’s me, you probably dont give out your number often unless you do in which case, hi, it’s kate from womens studies

You chuckle at the texts, earning a knowing glance from Darcy. She looks too cocky for her own good, so you stick your tongue out at her.

hey :) i was wondering when you’d finally text me

God, you hope that wasn’t too desperate. It’s not like you were waiting for your phone to buzz or anything. Not at all. It’s not like any low sound during the past class sent you grabbing for your phone. Not even a little.

Kate haha good to know im on your mind i wanted to ask when your last class was?

Your pulse quickens. Holy shit, is she asking you out? Already? You’ve barely recovered from your first encounter!

5. asking a girl out after just meeting her huh?

Too bold?

“Jesus, you look like a fourteen year old.” Darcy snorts, trying to look over your shoulder at your screen. You tuck the object close to your chest and scowl at her.

“What, you try to set me up and then get salty when it works?” You accuse.

She grins. “So it is Kate that’s got you all heart-eyed.”

“Shut up,” you whine and she cackles.

Kate well when i see what i like i tend to get it ;) can i treat you to a coffee?

“You really should be thanking me for setting you up with your dream girl.” Darcy hums. “Maybe throw me a party. Have a cake with my face on it. Oh, and of course, I need a ten minute dedication at your wedding-”

“She’s asking me out for one coffee,” you roll your eyes and blush as you text an affirmative to Kate. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right, sure it doesn’t. Like your texts aren’t nauseating.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you have a speech at the wedding but I’m limiting you to eight minutes because my parents are gonna spend their two minutes talking about the divorce.”

“Well it did turn their only child gay.”

You share her laughter and wipe away a tear that doesn’t exist. You have no idea where you’d be without Darcy.

- - -

Kate looks anxious when you approach, but it appears to melt the moment she sees you as a lazy smile stretches across her face. She greets you with a one-armed hug that feels strangely natural, and doesn’t remove it once she starts towards the coffee shop at the edge of campus.

“You’re from New York?” You ask, hoping you don’t sound as breathless as you feel with her unusually warm pressed against yours.

“I am,” Kate confirms. “What about you? You always live around the State College area?”

“Nah. Arizona, actually. When my parents split, dad moved to Oregon and mom moved us out here. I was eleven, but honestly I think I like the coast better. It’s so peaceful up here.”

Kate momentarily stiffens but covers it easily by saying, “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s kinda why I came here, too.”

“Why did you transfer? Penn State is a good school, but it’s no Columbia.”

“No, it’s not,” Kate chuckles. “But I needed to get away from the city.”

The coffee shop soon comes into view and Kate separates from you to hold the door open.

“What a gentlewoman,” you tease softly as she rejoins your side, though she doesn’t put her arm around you this time, much to your dismay.

“For you? Always.” Kate winks playfully as she eyes the menu. “So, you’re the expert here. What’s good?”

“Can’t go wrong with a hot chocolate,” you suggest. “Or a mocha, if coffee’s your thing. Which it probably is, I mean, you asked me to come to a coffee shop-”

Kate laughs at your rambling and places a hand on your lower back. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Um- yeah, sorry, it’s been a while since I… dated.” You excuse lamely, to which the archer only hums with a smirk.

“Well, if it helps, I’m nervous around you, too.”

You scoff. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it to make you feel better and ‘cause it’s true.” Kate’s expression becomes thoughtful as her blue gaze searches yours. “You make me very nervous, (Y/N).”

The way she says it sends a shiver down your spine.

Kate orders two hot chocolates as you stand in stunned silence.

While the drinks are being made, she makes light conversation about the classes she’s taken on and how different the student body seems here. It’s a bit odd, how quickly she goes from that bouncing energetic goofball to seductress and back again in a span of minutes. It’s insanely hot, though, and thankfully you haven’t spotted any red flags yet.

When your drinks are finished, you take your respective seats on one of many lounge chairs littering the small, cozy space.

She tells you a little bit about her past; she comes from money and went to private schools and is happy to make jokes about her privileged upbringing. She did martial arts throughout her childhood and picked up archery very young. She was going to take over her mom’s company, but for some vague reason or another, that doesn’t appear to be in Kate’s future so she’s finishing her degree and figuring it out from there.

You allow yourself to open up about your own childhood, sharing ridiculous stories and schemes you went through with Darcy. You talk about your parents divorce lightly, figuring that a deeper dive is a third or fourth date topic, and about your ambition to become an animal rehabilitator like your father. Kate relates to you on the admiration of your father, though your own is more distant than hers had been and not just in the literal sense.

By the time you finish your hot chocolates, they’re lukewarm and the sun has long since set. Kate offers to walk you home, and you have no thoughts in your mind to deny her. It’s amazing, how easily conversation flows between you as if you’d known each other for years. It makes your heart soar and your stomach erupt with butterflies.

As you come upon your apartment complex, Kate faces you with a timid smile.

“I really like hanging out with you, (Y/N),” she says, eyeing where your arms are still intertwined.

“Yeah, I like hanging out with you, too,” you respond breathily, blinking up at her.

Kate’s blue eyes glimpse down at your lips, her warm breath filling the small distance between you. For a wonderful moment, you wonder if she’s going to lean in and kiss you.

But the sharp ring of her cellphone fills the air and breaks the moment. She releases your arm with an apologetic smile that melts the moment she looks at the screen. She curses under her breath.

“Sorry, this- it’s important. I’ll text you later?”

You nod, mind still fogged from your almost-kiss. “Y-yeah, sure. Okay.”

“Hey.” Kate answers her phone as you open the entrance of your building. “Yeah. Sorry. I lost track of time…”

Once you’re home safely, you close your front door with a sigh. You shrug off your jacket and set it on the back of a dining chair before heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. You absentmindedly touch the scar on your shoulder, moving your arm awkwardly so that you can properly look at the mark.

Strangely, it feels alive tonight. Not sore, or necessarily tender. But tingly.

A distant howl makes you jump.

Another fact you’ve learned since the party that hasn’t left your mind:

There are no wild wolves in Pennsylvania.

- - -

The last sliver of the moon squints through the forest, casting dark shadows in the deepest wilds that mankind rarely ventures through. Here, it is easy to lose oneself in the ancient history of the land; the cradling pines and rough mountain sides that seem to have shaped life itself into being.

For years, tales of strange creatures roaming these untamed lands have passed from storyteller to storyteller. Giant wolves that seem to vanish in the blink of an eye, ghostly howls that foretell one’s own death. These fables have existed long before the European settlers arrived, for these lands have always held a natural power.

Tonight, the evening air is full of the nocturnal songs of the forest. Owls out on the hunt, frogs and insects calling out into the night. And, of course, the low howl of one of mankind’s most ancient and terrible enemies: the wolf.

A large, black body weaves through the trees and lifts its head to respond to the call. Its speed goes beyond that of an average wolf, its enormous body nearly six feet tall as its long limbs lope over the foliage.

The wolf comes to a skidding halt once a familiar cabin comes into view. Another wolf waits for her there, his dark gray muzzle lowering the instant he sees her.

You’re late, he reminds through their packbond, the growl in his chest nonthreatening.

The black wolf lowers her head, her ears flattening slightly. I was-

We know where you’ve been, a third wolf, smaller in size but still bigger than a normal wolf, approaches from around the cabin with a wagging tail. Her coat is a lighter gray with streaks of gold and red like autumn leaves. Fury is… not happy.

Blue eyes avert to the ground as the black wolf paws at the dirt. It was just one coffee… it doesn’t have to mean anything…

Good luck telling him that, Bishop, the blonde wolf teases, lowering her tail again.

Enough teasing, Yelena, a red wolf joins the small group. Fury is getting more and more impatient by the second. I think Wanda is going to strangle him.

Kate sighs as the sisters begin to lead the way around the cabin. The first wolf, the gray one, nudges her side softly with his muzzle.

I know you feel drawn to her, he offers a sympathetic whine. But she’s too important. If you let yourself be distracted, we could lose everything.

Around the back of the cabin, and the rest of their pack are now visible. A pack such as this is most unusual, especially for werewolves who, by nature, are family creatures. Not an ounce of blood is shared between these wolves, though. Just a strong sense of loyalty and nobility that binds them together, stronger than any blood ties.

The remaining wolves would be Fury, the unspoken leader of their pack who stands tall at the head of the circle with his scarred, red-brown muzzle raised high. His singular eye settles on Kate briefly before taking in the rest of the circle. Then there’s Bruce, whose own wolf form towers over the rest, gray as soot with smatters of black on his paws. Thor, the second biggest, looks almost radiant under the moonlight with his golden pelt. Lastly, there’s Carol, who stands beside Fury with a coat as silver as starlight, her eyes landing on Kate with unreadable emotions lingering through the bond.

The rest, though not werewolves, are Tony, an alchemist, Wanda, a witch, Vision, a golem, and Sam and Bucky, vampires. There’s a thick tension among the circle as Wanda begins to chant a concealment spell that will keep outside forces from listening to their conversations. Next, she goes around the circle and murmurs strange words.

The wolves shift uncomfortably at the sense of magic in the air. Steve and Bucky exchange grimaces; though Wanda has long since learned how to keep her spells from affecting them, particularly the wards, it doesn’t stop them from feeling a heavy pressure on their chests. They’re not supposed to enter these spells, but Wanda is a particularly powerful witch.

At last, her final spell opens the circles’ minds to one another, allowing outsiders a glimpse into the strong mental bond that links the werewolves to one another.

Friends, warriors, Fury begins with a low growl, the legend, I fear, is true. The Long Night is at our doorstep, and the Dawnbringer must become our priority. Her protection is the protection of life itself.

There’s a stirring among the wolves. Tony scoffs.

“Legends,” he mutters scornfully. “Prophecies. I’ve seen and heard plenty of those, thank you very much.”

You have witnessed many, this is true, Fury concedes politely, but have they not been for the betterment of mankind? Have you not watched as light conquers darkness, over and over?

“Good and evil are transparent concepts,” the alchemist shrugs. “Completely subjective.”

And in what world is a night that doesn’t end come off as ‘subjectively’ evil? Snorts Clint, equal parts amused and appalled.

“The world of the vampires.” Tony says flatly, nodding in the direction of Steve and Bucky. “The world of night hunters, like wolves.” He nods to the wolves. “The world of shadows.”

But this is our world, Natasha protests. Our natural world. The prophecy states that the Long Night will turn nature against nature. As an alchemist, surely you can appeal to that, Stark?

The older man crosses his arms stubbornly, but doesn’t argue. In truth, Tony Stark lost his love for the natural world centuries ago, around the same time as his immortality had lost its shine. One grows tired of monotony, and sometimes chaos can be a little fun.

But Natasha is right. He is an alchemist. A scientist.

Chaos is dangerous. If the prophecy is to be taken literal, then yes, an eternal night that turns nature against itself would be catastrophic.

Kate already knows her, Yelena pipes up, causing the black wolf to grunt.

Oh, we know, Fury’s eye lands on Kate. She tries not to cower. Have you shown them?

It was one coffee-

That’s not what I’m referring to. Fury flashes the image that Kate had shown them nights before, under the waning halfmoon, when she had scratched you during the attack.

The pack comes alive with anxiety, all at once. This had been just between Kate, Fury, and Clint. Now that it’s out in the open, they’re all looking at Kate with a variety of emotions from anger to annoyance to fear to wonder.

It was an accident! Kate whimpers.

Accident or not, there’s no taking back what’s been done. Fury lifts his gray muzzle to the sky, noting the clouds beginning to pass over the moon. She was meant to choose, but if fate has chosen for her, then so be it. On the next full moon, she will be one of us, whether or not she is prepared to face her destiny.

Kate’s stomach turns guiltily. She’s already doomed you to a fate you know nothing about.

Until then, Fury continues, keep close to her. You remember what your first time was like. Bring her to us when she knows what you are.

Kate nods. Yes, of course. Got it.

She misses the jealous look Carol sends her.

And Kate, Fury’s chest rumbles with another growl. Time is not on our side, but try not to... frighten the girl.

When the gathering is dismissed, and the spells officially closed, Kate and Clint begin their trek towards the town home they share. Whenever asked, Clint tells strangers he’s Kate’s father in favor of answering some awkward prying questions. In truth, Clint is the closest to a father Kate has had in a long, long time.

We don’t care if you’re interested in her like that, Clint abruptly interrupts their quiet running.

But you were right. I shouldn’t distract her from her destiny. Kate whines softly.

Maybe people have two destinies.

Kate finds it hard to argue when Clint is so goddamn reasonable.

One thing was for certain: the future is closing its teeth around them. The prophecy is real and it’s true, and Kate has put an unwitting victim into fate’s unkind hands.

>>> next <<<<

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rat-that-writes · 3 years

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Shattered | Darkiplier x Reader

a/n: FINALLY A FIC IDEA. is this angst idk i have never written angst before bc i hate it but this is kinda good ngl. no happy ending but i may be inclined to to a part 2 if u guys would like :)

tw: reader thinks dark finds them annoying, self doubt, angst kinda?, one mention of blood, crying, no happy ending

You’ve been standing in front of the door to Dark’s office for a few minutes now, just staring. Debating. Sighing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t have anything to talk to him about - you had plenty conversation topics. The hardest one to keep inside your brain was the undeniable fact that you had a huge crush on the demonic creature. He was handsome, incredibly so, and charismatic, charming… You could go on.

But you couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t like you like that; hell, he probably didn’t like you in any way. He held that opinion with most people, it seemed.

Still, you were one of the two people he allowed in his office. Probably because you didn’t speak to him that much. Wilford was the other person allowed in - for business reasons you assumed.

Speaking of, you heard the voice of the vibrant man, mumbling to himself about some kind of lethal candycane? Who knows what goes on in his brain, honestly. Probably not even him. Soon enough you heard footsteps coming up the stairs too, and the voice became louder. As quietly as you could, you swiftly walked away from the door and into one of the empty rooms soon to be redecorated.

Fluffy tufts of black hair emerged into view as you peaked through the door slightly. Wil was heading for Dark’s office. Head down, looking over papers, he entered without knocking. That was something that Dark hated. You heard muffled shouting as the door closed.

“Wilford, how many times do I have to tell you-“

Maybe you’d stay out of his office for today.

Almost six days had passed since you had been in his office. Almost six days had passed since you tried your best to avoid Dark around the manor. You felt it best to push your feeling aside as it was no use pining for a man who would never do the same for you.

Or so you thought. Wilford, however, thought this plan was absolutely dreadful. How did you not see how much Dark actually cared for you? Maybe because of the whole emotionless demon act? Yeah, probably… Just means he’ll have to play matchmaker a little bit!

“Y/N, could you take these up to Darky boy for me?” Wilford spoke, handing you a small pile of papers. You froze, dreading the trip. Just seeing him, hearing him speak to you in that deep voice was not a step in your plan to suppress your feelings. No, that wouldn’t help one bit. Wilford looked at you softly, seeming to understand your thoughts.

“Please? It’s urgent and I’m extremely busy. You know how he doesn’t like anyone else in his space. Plus, he’s been a little down over the past week - I think seeing you would cheer him up!” He beamed, eyes boring into yours. After you hesitantly agreed, he spun you around to face the staircase.

Sighing, you forced your legs to carry you up the stairs, keeping a tight grip on the banister. All too soon, you arrived in front of the door once again. You stood there, staring. Debating. Breathing slightly heavier. Raising your fist to knock on the door, you just rested it there. Were you really going to walk into that room and let your heart swell all over again? Were you going to knock and leave the papers on the ground and flee, and let your heart wilt?

Dark wouldn’t like it if his papers were left on the floor. What if he stepped on them? And surely he’d find out who left them there. Wil wouldn’t be so timid and he wouldn’t ask anyone but you to take things to him. You wouldn’t like your feelings to return.

Well, they never left. You wouldn’t like them to grow any stronger. Even though it hurt tremendously to try and make them disappear, it would hurt more to embarrass yourself in front of him and be rejected.

You raised your fist from the wood, and knocked twice. You could feel tears threatening to fall but you couldn’t let yourself be seen as weak in front of him. You heard him beckon you inside. He sounded neutral today, not mad, not happy. Though he rarely sounded happy anyway. Shaking fingers gripped the door handle as you shook your head in effort of clearing your thoughts.

Slowly, carefully, you opened the door. The sight in front of you caused your heart to break and swell with joy at the same time. Another wave of stinging tears were about to fall, so you kept your head down as you walked to his desk. It was hard to keep your gaze off him - his white button down slightly open and his sleeves rolled up. His jacket was folded over his chair. His hair was slightly messy as he carded a hand through it nonchalantly.

You didn’t trust your self to speak but you had to say something. When you reach him, you could see he was looking at you. Unable to read his expression, you thrust the papers in his direction as he took them carefully. The brush of his hand on yours made you jump, which startled the man in front of you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You almost whimpered when you heard that deep voice penetrating into your skull and sending electricity through your blood.

“I-“

You squeaked, opting to shut your mouth and instead nod your head yes. Turning around, you walked as swiftly and normally as you could to get out of the room. You felt like you were suffocating. As your hand reached for the door handle, you risked turning your head to face him. A mistake.

He was just standing, staring. Debating. You couldn’t even decipher his expression but it seemed to shatter you nonetheless. You wanted nothing more than for him to walk over to you and pick up the pieces of your heart and glue them back together. But he didn’t. He just stood. You turned away from him and rushed out the door.

“Y/N-“

The door was shut. His calling of your name barely registered as your caught your breath again. Maybe it was your hopeful imagination but you swear his tone was different this time. You’ve never heard it from him before; the sound of something akin to begging.

Darting for the staircase, you ran down the steps and rushed past Wilford whose smiled faded as he saw the look on your face. He didn’t run after you, figuring you’d prefer to be alone. Instead he rose from the desk and set his work aside, marching up the stairs.

Your feet carried you to the empty kitchen, and you sat yourself down and let the tears spill. You’ve never cried so historically, so uncontrollably. Your lungs burnt and your throat ached.

There was no way you were entering that office again.

#markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos/reader #markiplier egos x yn #darkiplier/reader #darkipler x yn #darkiplier x reader #darkiplier/yn #darkiplier x y/n #i wrote this at 6am

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salsdemise · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Sally face x reader fic? Possibly a confession and first kiss an da party or something like that, thank you!

Hey anon, sorry if this is bad, I'm assuming you meant sal, and if not just lmk and I'll re-write this for another character if you want.

Warnings: Underage drinking, underaged smoking, parties, y/n used in place of your name, really awkward with the confession part? idk how to write those

word count: 1479

other: gender neutral terms used, sal's speech is in blue bc sometimes its unclear whos talking bc i didn't know what to put between the words spoken lol playlist listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5SMv6Go27KIcbfL07wkQ4m

This party wasn’t where you wanted to be right now. Hell, you’d rather be at school, getting pushed around by the kids in the hall right now. Anywhere was better than this loud, flashy,party filled with the smell of cigs, weed, alcohol and sex wafting off of every teen you passed.

Why you had come to this party in the first place had slipped your mind, as now you were more focused on not getting backed into a corner with a potted plant by a group of your peers. Maybe it was because your friend Larry wouldn’t shut up about how fun it was going to be, maybe it was because you would have felt bad saying no, or maybe it was because you certainly weren’t going to pass up on an opportunity to potentially hang out with Sal Fisher, your long time crush and close friend.

Holding your now empty red cup, you navigated your way through the crowd of drunken and dancing teens, most who were nice and giggly as you passed, slurring apologies at you if they bumped you.

While you weren’t all sober yourself, you had enough remaining cognitive ability to form full thoughts, and the only one on your mind was finding one of two people; Sal or Larry. You had no doubt Larry was off smoking with gods know who, so that left one option, and if your brain wasn’t mistaking you, you had seen the electric-bluenette near the door to the backyard in the kitchen not too long ago. So that’s where you set your sights.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you were happy to know that you were indeed correct on where you had last seen Sal, just outside on the patio, sitting hunched over a cup, the bottom straps of his prosthetic undone and dangling. Murmuring a few ‘excuse me’s at the teens you passed on the way, you made your way out to the back, opening and exiting the door and catching the bluenette’s attention. Seating yourself next to him, you said nothing, not sure of what to say.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show. Lar said you were coming, but I thought he was bluffing again,” Sal spoke, sipping on his drink.

You laughed at this, “yea, no, he actually convinced me to come. Not sure how, but he did. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you here either. You always talk about how much you hate parties, especially ones that have inebriating drinks,” you set your cup down next to you, and a small breeze knocked it over as soon as your hand left it.

“I don’t, hate em. Managed to get someone to get me something non-alcoholic, though. What have you had to drink?” He motioned to your, now rolling, red cup to emphasize.

“Oh, nothing too strong. They had a punch bowl in there so I took some of that,” thinking back to it as you spoke, it was odd the hosts of this party put a punch bowl out at a party with no need for it. However, you and Sal both seemingly shrugged it off and continued talking.

Conversation between the two of you had always come so naturally, switching between topics and tones, talking about people, your home state, his home state, and the likes.

“Man, I cannot believe he did that! It was like, super awkward between us for a week,“ you laughed, finishing a story about how Larry had tried to ask you out when high. Luckily the guy wasn’t too upset and took no for an answer.

“Hey, y/n, about asking people out...have you ever done it?” Sal questioned, messing with his sweater sleeves now that his drink was gone and his cup had also flown off.

“Oh, uh, not like, here at Nockfell, but in the past I asked a guy in my grade to go to a valentine’s day dance with me. Why?” you responded, tilting your head at him.

“I want to ask this person out, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh. Well, what do they like? How long have you known them? And how close are you two? You can’t just ask out a random person you barely know, it won’t go well.”

“Well, they like a lot so it’s...kinda hard to put into words. I’ve known them for years now, and I’d like to say we’re pretty close.”

Thinking, you went quiet. As much as it hurt you to know your crush liked someone else, you were going to help him as best you could.

“Well, I’d give them a note, personally. I’d probably piss myself if I tried to tell them upfront. But it depends on how you wanna do it.”

Sal quietly thinks for a few seconds before standing up and fixing his mask, “Thanks for your help dude. We should get going, I’ll go find Larry and we can get out of here.”

You nod, standing and following Sal back into the house, heading for the front door while Sal went off to find Larry. With your mutual friend acquired, you all left for home, depositing Larry at his place and heading to your own beds, tired now that the social buzz had worn off.

Over the next week, you and Sal talked less and less, notes popped up in your locker, and small things like patches, stickers, pins and snacks appeared with them. You were confused to say the least. You loved everything this admirer gave you, and the notes were adorable, even if they were typed and printed rather than hand written, but you wondered why Sal had stopped talking to you as often as he did.

As the weeks progressed, you had started to like the secret admirer that was leaving you small gifts and notes reminding you how much they liked you. But the most recent note, which you had gotten on a sunny and warm Wednesday, really caught your attention. This time, it was handwritten in blue pen ink, the handwriting surprisingly neat, completely eliminating who you thought it was.

The note read: “y/n, meet me in the courtyard during lunch/break time. -<3”, and not wanting to disappoint, you waited with an uneasy shake until lunch came around where you went straight to the courtyard. Seeing no one, you sat on the ground by a tree to wait until your secret admirer got there.

10 minutes later, the heavy doors opened and closed with a thud, catching your attention and causing you to look up where you saw Sal, mask in hands, and looking down.

“Sal? Are you the one that wanted to meet me here?” You were..puzzled to say the least. Sal had hardly talked to you in weeks, and you thought he liked someone else like Ash, but it seems you were mistaken.

“Uh, yea, I am. I know you’re..probably upset at me for not talking to you in the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to say something stupid too soon. I hope you’re not too mad..”

“Sal, I’m not mad. I thought you were busy trying to get your mystery person to like you..and I guess I was right, but I didn’t think it’d be me..”

“Who else would it have been? You and I are as close as Larry and I are, we like the same things and I’ve known you since you got here. Hell, I’ve been pining over you for years now, but last year when Lar told me he was gonna try and shoot his shot, I tried to get myself to like Ash so I wouldn’t feel like shit if you said yes.”

“Oh, Sal. I thought it was Ash, you talk so much about her sometimes, I thought you actually liked her.”

“Oh, no, I don’t. She helped me with this, actually. Which reminds me, if its not obvious already, I really fucking like you. Like, you make me feel happy and just thinking about you makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Smiling at his words you stood to go over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders so he would look up at you, “I like you too, Sal. Like, a lot. I have for a while, and when you asked how to ask someone out,I..it hurt a little bit.”

Saying nothing at your words, Sal moved forward and wrapped you in a hug, his mask landing in the grass behind you two. Before you could return the hug, Sal backed up and his hands grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. Giving you time to react this time, you kissed back, your hands placing themselves over his.

Now, sitting at a college party with your boyfriend, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe parties aren’t so bad after all.’

#sally face #sal fisher #sally face x reader #sally face game #sal fisher x y/n #gn!reader

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead.

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires.

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice.

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor.

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach.

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess.

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom.

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time.

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was.

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers.

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody.

#annie #annie leonhart x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #princess!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #annie leonhart x you

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sp00kyjellybeans · 3 years

Text

Constant Pining [Mickey Altieri x reader]

A/N: part two because i think the last one deserves a follow up :> For this one, I decided to play with the fact that Mickey is a film student, so I kind of figured he would use it to his advantage. btw tho this feels super choppy and cheesy in the bad way so idk how to feel ab it:’) pls lmk what you guys think bc i might rewrite it and cut half of this out

Word Count: 3,425

Warnings: None, this is like... super fluffy

---

It had been two weeks since the party and it was driving Mickey insane. He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that life carried on as usual or the fact that you were completely unfazed. He would have preferred if you were all over him or, hell, if you were avoiding him.

Because then he would know how you feel.

But he didn’t. The poor guy hadn’t the slightest clue. Life went on nonetheless. Some days he was able to sit next to you in Psychology (if Halley didn’t try kicking him out of her seat) and the two of you were normal during friend settings. But you never showed up to another party.

Mickey gnawed at his pencil. It was whittled down to practically nothing. He was supposed to be focused on a project that he and Randy were assigned in Film Theory but instead... You were on his mind.

“Can you stop eating that pencil and quit thinking about (Y/n)!” Randy threw a small notebook at Mickey’s head. Mickey snapped out of his daze and easily dodged it. “We need to work on this shit together. I don’t need (Y/n) clouding my camera man’s mind.”

“I’m not even-”

“Save it. You’ve been making the same face for two weeks straight now. It’s the (Y/n)-face. Sid and I coined it.”

Mickey muttered a curse word under his breath and reached for the notebook that was thrown at him. It was Randy’s film book. He flipped through some pages. It was filled with notes for class and film-analysis. Half of the analyses weren’t even assigned for class.

“What are we doing for this again?” Mickey rolled his eyes and threw the notebook onto a table. He propped up his feet and leaned back in his chair.

The two boys were in a conference room of the film school. A chalkboard had been dirtied with Randy’s ideas for their film project while Mickey was mentally vacant for the time being. The project was to make a movie, each group was assigned a different genre. They were content with being partners, seeing as Randy had the ideas and Mickey had a knack for cinematography.

“We were assigned to do a documentary.”

“Fucking lame... Everyone else got cool shit. I heard Terry Pusher was assigned fantasy... Fucking fantasy.”

“I know, hell I’d take a love story over this shit,” Randy threw the piece of chalk at the board.

Mickey paused and sat up. His expression was twisted as if he were onto something.

“Wait... say that again...”

“I’d take a love story over this shit?” Randy tilted his head.

Mickey stood to his feet and pointed at his geeky friend, an excited expression was evident.

“Exactly.”

The sea of students stormed past you. Your final class of the day ended early so you were more than eager to get back to your dorm. Your roommate was gone for the weekend so hopefully some quiet would get your mind off of Mickey.

The events of the party had been bouncing around the walls of your mind ever since it happened. A part of you thanked Halley for stepping in when she did and a part of you cursed her for it.

You couldn’t fathom dating Mickey. It was unheard of. New. Exhilarating. He was probably one of the hottest guys on campus and he had his hands on your waist.

Sure, he was a total nerd when it came to movies, especially for Tarantino films, and you could listen to his rants for hours, but the thought of him wanting you made your heart skip a beat. If he reciprocated any sort of feelings you’d be sent into cardiac arrest. Did he like you? Was that even possible?

He could have anyone at this school. He knew it, too. But it was possible he could choose you.

Before you were able to expand on that thought, a camera was shoved into your face.

“And here we have the wonderful, the amazing, the magnificently stunning (Y/n)!” Mickey’s voice imitated a sports announcer.

His sudden appearance was enough to make your cheeks go ablaze.

“What are you doing?” You winced and shielded your face.

Randy appeared behind Mickey, “Film project, you’re a part of it!”

“Puh-lease, if anything, they are the star of the film, Meeks!”

You continued to walk to your dorm in hopes of avoiding the nerds but in all honesty, you were smiling like an idiot.

“What’s it about?” You asked.

Mickey put the camera down for a second and eyed Randy. Luckily, he knew exactly what to say, or rather, what not to say.

“We’re making a documentary. We’re following around a few students, and you’re one of them. Will you watch it when it comes out?”

“Of course,” You grinned. “Just... don’t follow me everywhere with that thing.”

And follow you, they did.

The very next morning you opened your door to Mickey holding up the blocky piece of tech. He was grinning behind the lens, which forced you to do the same. But you made it a point to shove the camera away.

This went on for weeks. Mickey would ambush you with his camera everywhere. Meaning that you two were spending more time together. It didn’t matter if you were in the cafeteria or spending the night with your friends. He always managed to film little tidbits of you.

At first, you would push the camera away or hide your face behind a nearby pillow.

Then you and Mickey started to hang alone together more often. You found yourself seeking out time with him. Mickey walked you to classes (still filming you with the camera but you didn’t push it away anymore; you just ignored it), he visited you at work and stopped by your dorm frequently.

Eventually, he had the courage to trap you into a date.

“Why are you covering my face, Mickey? I know where the cafeteria is...” You groaned, aimlessly walking forward.

“That’s not where we’re eating today.”

“You had no reason to make that sound threatening, Micks... You suck at surprises.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You opened your eyes to a sprawled out assortment of food on a picnic blanket.

It was a typical picnic blanket sat under one of the largest trees on campus. It was wide and comfortable. Mickey thought to bring plenty of drinks too. The look on your face filled him with glee as you studied the setting in front of you.

Just last week both of you were talking about your favorite underrated scenes in a romance movie. His answer was the kissing scene in Titanic, but you argued that wasn’t underrated. Your answer was the picnic scene in Armageddon.

Mickey managed to make it come true. If it were sunset, it would have hit the nail on the head.

“Oh my...”

“Do you like it?” Mickey jumped into your line of vision, he looked hopeful. “You said you’ve never been to a picnic before when you mentioned Armageddon and... well that’s just a part of the American dream so I figured- ‘Hey, they shouldn’t miss out on something so fun and peaceful’ so... I made it happen.”

Mickey’s rambling had you smiling wide. Underneath that smooth exterior, he was a nervous wreck around you.

“Thanks, Micks...”

The food was delicious. You guys talked amongst the meal and the conversation never stopped. Hours passed but you guys continued to laugh and talk. You were having the time of your life. Mickey brought your favorite fruits and snacks, but best of all, animal crackers. You held up the bag excitedly.

“Like from the movie!” You cheered.

Mickey leaned forward to grab a cracker but you leaned back, smiling mischievously. You loved teasing him.

He furrowed his eyebrows and went to grab again but you leaned back even further. Mickey paused, chuckling, and you thought you won. You reached your hand in to grab a cracker yourself and instead, you felt his body collide into yours.

You yelped in surprise and fell on your back. The Animal Crackers flew across the blanket and Mickey groaned in defeat.

“Now look at what you did...” You laughed.

You guys were side-by-side laying on your backs, staring at each other. The blanket was soft. If you weren’t so giddy, you could have fallen asleep right there. Mickey’s body heat enhanced your comfort, the need to lean into him was excessive.

You giggled at the man, biting the nail on your index finger. Mickey stared back at you, he looked pleased.

“What?”

He shrugged and continued to stare. You faced your head forward to look up at the branches of a tree above you.

The shade kept you both cool from the sun. Rays of sunshine illuminated your skin, the eccentric shadow of leaves were printed on your face. A breeze flew by, causing your baby hairs to wave in the wind. Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes away.

“Baby-” You said, snapping him out of his trance- “Do you think it’s possible that anyone else in the world is doing this very same thing at this very same moment?”

You slowly turned your eyes back to Mickey, hoping he’d catch on. His toothy grin spread across his cheeks. He thought back to the movie line, hoping to get it right.

“I hope so...” He mumbled but you heard it perfectly. “Otherwise... What the hell are we trying to save?”

His face was an inch away from yours. You could feel his breath hitting your face. It was sweet. It smelled of the strawberries you shared moments before.

A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, separate from the rest of his slicked-back locks. His large brown eyes were looking at you sincerely. They were inviting you in. Mickey’s lips twitched upward as if he were tempted to make a move.

But he didn’t.

You wanted to reach toward his face and pull him closer. You wanted to feel his lips meld into yours, allow the moment to overtake you. You wanted to feel his unshaven face press against yours and tickle your cheeks. You wanted to feel his hand wrap around your own. You wanted to feel him, to touch him.

But you didn’t.

Two weeks later Randy and Mickey announced their documentary was done. The finished product was ready to be viewed. You were invited to come to see it.

During those two weeks, you spent time wondering how you could finally make a move. You were sick of this. You wanted this to end and to have a new beginning. You were sure that Mickey had feelings for you. It had to be true. You needed a leap of faith.

On the other hand, Mickey spent the same amount of time wondering where he was going wrong. Why couldn’t he pluck up the courage to kiss you? Making the first move always worked well for him. Why couldn’t he do it now? More than anything, he hoped that perhaps this documentary will give you an idea of his feelings. It had to.

So here you were, nervously fiddling with a blocky device in your jacket pocket, avoiding the eyes of Mickey, who sat on a stool in front of Sidney’s TV. She opted that they show their documentary in her and Halley’s room of their sorority house. Surprisingly, they were the only ones with a good enough TV.

Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes off of you. It became a nervous habit. He wanted to know what you were thinking almost 24/7, he was beyond pissed that he wasn’t a telepath.

“Alright alright alright...” Randy strolled up to the screen. “Is everyone here? Does everyone have their snacks and their drinks? You all need to enjoy this to the fullest extent so snacks are a must.”

Everyone glanced at one another, drink and popcorn in hand. You glanced back to see Sidney all over her boyfriend Derek on the couch. You gave a half-grin, wishing that could be you and Mickey. Halley sat on the opposite end of the couch, happily munching on popcorn.

“Well... without further ado-” Mickey began.

“Wait isn’t this a documentary? This better not be boring as hell...” Halley lifted her hand and we all nodded in agreement.

“Trust me, guys, this is good stuff. Probably our best yet,” Randy reassured us. “I’m going to play it now...”

We fell silent as Randy placed a tape inside of the VHS. He then turned out the lights as the intro began. Randy’s voice came through the TV.

“Love...” Tidbits of students on campus flashed across the screen. “What is love? ...And no, I don’t mean The Haddaway song.”

A few chuckles sounded around the room. Mickey held his glance on you still.

“Falling in love is one of the most complex things a human can do... The psychology is even more complex. Certain chemicals are released that explain those butterflies in your stomach or why you get sweaty palms around your crush. Well, many scientists believe that humans are wired to fall in love...” Randy’s voice faded along with the screen.

The sound of talking college students came through and the camera was poised onto Derek in the cafeteria.

“What do you love about Sid, Derek?” Mickey said through the TV.

The camera was far too close to Derek’s face, who looked insanely annoyed.

“Bug off-”

“Just answer the question.”

Derek thought for a moment, then smiled, “Her smile and eyes. I can’t choose one. They just... go hand in hand. They’re gentle, kind, sweet... Like her.”

A chorus of ooh’s and aw’s rang throughout the room and we threw popcorn kernels at Derek. Both he and Sidney were blushing profusely.

The next clip was of Halley walking on the sidewalk. You could hear Mickey again.

“Ms. Halley, please explain to us what you are doing right now.”

“I am going on a date, which I do not need you two dorks coming with me-” Halley shoved the camera away and the camera didn’t see her again.

There were a few more scenes like this, the guys asking random couples on campus what they love about one another.

You were never asked anything while you were filmed, so you were confused, to say that the least. What was your role during this?

At times, you would lock eyes with Mickey. He looked frazzled but stared at you all the same.

Randy posed another question to each of the couples, “How long does it take for someone to fall in love?” The screen was black as you heard the answers,

“Weeks-”

“Months, maybe six?”

“Years,” Someone said.

And you appeared on the TV.

It was when Mickey first filmed you. There was more than one clip of you, too, each a few seconds long. The first five contained you shying away from the camera but after that, you could see yourself growing more comfortable around him. You were never looking at the lens but always at the cameraman.

The screen went black once more and another question was asked, “What’s your ideal love story?”

“Something like a Nicholas Sparks book. Tragic... yet romantic.”

“If we hated each other at first, but then we learned to love. The buildup is fantastic.”

“Childhood friends turned to lovers. Something about that constant pining has me reeling...”

You snapped your eyes towards Mickey. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You looked back at the screen to see yourself once more.

“Micks... come on and watch this movie-” You were sat on a couch with a bowl of popcorn. You shoved a handful into your mouth when suddenly you noticed the camera sitting in front of you, “You left your camera in here! ...Hey- are you filming me?” You lifted the device to your face and stuck out your tongue.

You could hear Mickey chuckle in the background.

Another clip played of Mickey and you sitting on the floor. It was a different day, you guys were laughing hysterically over something. You’ve never seen Mickey so happy.

More and more clips of questions and answers paired with you played. It was matched together perfectly. Realization dawned on you. Was this a confession from Mickey?

Mickey’s sweet voice played once more. But this wasn’t for any of the couples. He was sat on the couch, asking you.

“Think about a cheesy but underrated romance, okay? What is your favorite romantic scene from that movie?”

You were only a few inches away from him, head rested on your hand on the backboard of his bed.

“I’ll go first, I think the kiss during Titanic is spectacular.”

“It’s good but it’s not underrated Micks.”

“Alright, then what’s your choice?”

“...Armageddon. The picnic scene. I’ve never been on a picnic so something like that just seems so... tranquil.”

“You’ve never been to a picnic?”

“Yep... is that weird?”

“Completely and utterly, (Y/n).”

You laughed loudly in the documentary. The next scene was of Mickey setting the camera up someplace. He looked nervous. When he stepped away from the camera, it was a perfect angle to film the picnic he set up for you.

You knew the rest. The next couple of minutes showed your guys’ picnic together. Including the movie quote.

The end of the film was nearing, and Mickey’s anxiety was through the roof. It was far from romantic but once his project stopped playing he was going to confess to you. He was going to confess in front of all of his friends, for you. Just a few minutes left and he was going to do it.

And then you left.

Mickey finished the quote from the movie and you left instantly. Mickey’s jaw dropped as he stared at his friends. They looked equally confused.

“Go after them, dude!” Randy yelled.

It took a while but eventually, Mickey found you. You were on the porch of the sorority house, leaning against the railing and staring at the sunset. There was a cool breeze and parts of your hair waved in the wind. You had your arms wrapped around your body, pulling your jacket close. Mickey could see the orange glow illuminating your face when he joined your side.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t look at him. His heart dropped. He messed up.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to-”

You shushed him. He fell silent.

“Come here... close your eyes... Step up... No peeking”

“I’m not...”

You pulled on his arm and forced him to stand behind you. You guided him to stand on the lower bar of the railing with you, his body nearly wrapped around yours. He stumbled a bit but he followed your movement blindly. The lack of distance between you two had him trembling.

“Just a sec...” You whispered and pulled a walkman out of your pocket. “I wanted to get this right...” You said and pressed play.

The instrumental of My Heart Will Go On began to play and Mickey barked out a laugh.

“What in the world-”

“Put your hands on my waist, Micks,” You grabbed his hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

Just like the movie, Mickey thought.

“I realize we can just see more of the campus... not the ocean,” Your words were gentle. They came out like honey. “But I wanted you to see... how you make me feel like I can fly.”

Mickey stared at your adoringly. Your scent filled his nostrils and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. His hands ventured from your waist to lift them, like in the movie. Mickey leaned forward and whispered, “Come Josephine my flying machine going up she goes...” His hot breath tickled your ear and you could feel as he intertwined his hand with yours. “Going up...”

You turned to stare at him just as the music of your cassette player swelled. You hesitantly reached his face, and Mickey leaned in instinctively. Your hand comfortably rested on the back of his neck as his lips gently pressed against yours.

They were hesitant, hot, gentle, almost hungry. His skin was a burning touch. Your hand melded against his skin, touching the curve of his jaw. Mickey’s fingers danced around your body, wanting to explore every crevice for the first time. Mickey had been unknowingly craving the touch of your skin and lips for so long, it felt like euphoria took control of his body.

He poured himself into you. You were willing to drown in his touch.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #scream #slashers #ghostface #ghostface x reader #mickey altieri oneshot #scream 2 #randy meeks

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Follower Recs

~*~

Hi! First of all, thank you so much for running this blog, It's become one of three reasons why I haven't yet committed arson (I jest but the Feeling is true). [Hee, hee, hee.] I have a rec for you! It's called "wholesome life usurp immediately" by comfect on ao3 and it's. So good. It's unfinished but the author updates it literally every other day if not faster! It's a lovely fic, I hope you enjoy it. 🌻

Wholesome Life Usurp Immediately

by Comfect (T, 55k, yunmeng sibs, qingli, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: Wen Qing examines Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses and has a cure for her poor cultivation.

Now there are Three Prides of Yunmeng.

Everything kind of fixes itself from there.

~*~

hello mojo!! I would really like to recommend standing still (but we keep going) by lwjromantics!! it's really good!!

standing still (but we keep going)

by lwjromantics (justfantaestic) (T, 5k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji supposed that if having to take care of little A-Yuan and Mo Xuanyu and having to look at the reminders of Wei Ying in their habits and mannerisms was punishment for his actions, he would willingly take it and flay his own back open.

— There are children in the Burial Mounds.

~*~

hii mojo! I just read this cute fic and I loved it so I wanted to rec it :)

Word Up, Talk the Talk

by Larryissocute (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

~*~

Hey! Love your account — and proud of you for taking the hiatus you needed. [Lol - it was really nice!] Idk if you take fic recommendations, but I'd love to rec Roots by ardenrabbit. Fantastic characterization, I really love it!

Roots

by ardenrabbit (E, 46k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: After Wei Wuxian's duel with Jiang Cheng, he finds that stab wounds aren't so trivial when he doesn't have a core to heal them. He wakes to find Lan Zhan in the Burial Mounds with him, already beloved by the Wens and making himself at home. When Lan Zhan tells him that he wants to stay and offers more help than Wei Wuxian knows how to accept, he fears that it's only too good to be true.

Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying is doing the right thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he let him do it alone. For everything Wei Ying has sacrificed, Lan Wangji is determined to give something back to him.

Hanguang-Jun has turned his back on the clans to join the Yiling Wens and their demonic cultivator leader, and every clan has a different opinion on the matter.

~*~

Hello! I wanted to rec a fic on ao3 called "Restoration" by jelenedra. It's complete, an alternate universe of the sunshot campaign told nonlinearly. It has strong fairy tale and fae elements, with a touch of mystery. Bit of a fix it. Some delightful one liners, and the final ending imagery is just LOVELY. The fic deserves much more love. There's also some YilingWei, wwx not raised by Jiang, and sentient Burial Mounds elements. Enchanting read that keeps you enthralled and curious and intrigued.

Restoration

by jelenedra (M, 85k, wangxian)

Summary: They say he was thrown into Luanzang Gang by the man who killed his parents; they say that he is an immortal cultivator who had been in a deep trance until the Wen sect disturbed his rest and incurred his wrath; they say that he is the fierce corpse of a cultivator who had somehow regained his mind and his spiritual powers.

When Lan Wangji sees him for the first time, he understands why people talk.

Meng Yao wants safety. Xue Yang wants vengeance. The Sunshot Campaign wants victory. Yiling Laozu provides, for a price.

~*~

I usually read all your recommendations. Thanks for gathering all good recs of wangxian. I am in love with every single story your recommend especially the favorites. [I’m so glad!] I just wanted to suggest a fic i came across while searching for phoenix!wwx. Its a new story I think as author has published it today. The first chapter was very interesting that i thought ill recommend it you and know your opinion. The legendary phoenix and his dragon -Devipriya and Hidden Path to Love by ShadowTenshiV

Hidden Path to Love

by ShadowTenshiV (G, 78k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei Ying is a servant working at the Gusu Lan castle. One day he enters through a secret passage way connected to the library where he meets a Lan for the first time. He may have left quite an impression, gaining the other´s attention and slowly becoming friends. They would like to become something more, but a servant can´t be with a prince, but maybe his secret can change that.

~*~

hello mojo! i was wondering if I could make a fic rec? it’s called “and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow” by izanyas. it used to be on ao3 but the author has since moved it to eir own website and has started posting updates there. i was wondering if this could also act as a signal boost bc some old readers on ao3 might not have known that it is now on another website. Author's been through a tough time so I think it deserves a lot more love.

For new readers, please mind the warnings in the prologue and the beginning of each chapter! it’s omegaverse and a very heavy read as it deals with (possible spoiler) off-screen rape that results in an unwanted pregnancy, as well as secondary gender oppression which runs deep, but for people who can bear it the writing, worldbuilding, and emotions are truly spectacular.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow

by izanyas (E, 270k, wangxian, WIP, link is to WordPress rather than AO3)

Summary: Cangse Sanren was the first of her kind to become a cultivator. Talented, passionate, free-spirited, she bested everything that ever came her way until the very end.

Jiang Fengmian refuses to see her son deprived of that same freedom.

~*~

Hello Mojo! I dunno if this's been recced before, but here's another ficrec for you? It's complete, on ao3, "The Third Young Master of Qishan Wen" by KouriArashi. It's 'if wwx was raised by dafan wen, but gets recognized as 3rd heir due to his skill' scenario. Some really nice banter and characterization. Wwx and lz get together before the sunshot campaign. Story follows the live action but diverges into au, and does some cool callbacks to original canon. Love Meng Yao in this! [Oh, I know KouriArashi from my last fandom, I love her works!]

❤️The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen

by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, my post)

Summary: The fic where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Dafan Mountain Wens instead of the Yunmeng Jiang.

~*~

Hi Mojo! I can count the number of times I’ve spoken on Tumblr on one hand (I’m shy heh) but I found this fic that I think you and others would really like? I’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort and this was just too sweet for me not to share (did I go through 20 pages of bookmarks just to make sure you don’t already have it? Maybe …) [Aww, you can do a sidebar search in the bookmarks for the author’s name. But I hope you found other good fics by carding through the whole catalog!] It’s “Close Your Soft Eyes” by timetoboldlygo! I also wanna say thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog! It’s a treasure beyond compare. :D [Thank you so much!]

Close Your Soft Eyes

by timetoboldlygo (G, 12k, wangxian)

Summary: When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

On the nights that Wei Wuxian was gone, Lan Wangji woke to gifts on his pillow.

~*~

Hey Mojo! I love your blog it is beyond awesome! [Thank you!] I was wondering if you would consider reading JaenysBloodcourt series "A Bond to Takes us home"? The summary is weird but I like the fics and would love to hear your opinion on LWJ POV (it's part 2). Part one is Mingxian but part two (Wangxian) reads as a standalone for the most part. Anyways, thank you for all your hard work! <3 [I’ll put it on my list!]

A Bond to Take Us Home

by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 10k, mingxian - nmj/wwx, wangxian, series in progress)

Summary: Wei Wuxian has two soulmarks. He has two soulmates that seem to be the opposite of him. During his first life he meets both of them, loves only one and longs for the other. In his second life, the one he loved first is dead, and the one he pined after is pining after him.

These are the many tales of his soulmates and the raucous they made across the cultivation world.

Some are dark, some are light. Beware.

~*~

I forgot to send this in for Mother's Day a few weeks ago, but have you read dragongirlG's "into the light of a dark black night"? It's a short canon divergence where Mama Lan escapes the Cloud Recesses after spending one last, heartbreaking night with her sons. It's so beautiful and bittersweet! [Oh, ouch. I just read this author’s time travelling juniors au, but hadn’t seen this one.]

into the light of a dark black night

by dragongirlG (T, 3k, Madam Lan & sons)

Summary: The night that Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, plans to escape from the Cloud Recesses, she runs into an unexpected complication.

That complication comes in the form of her younger son A-Zhan running up to her door and kneeling in front of it, hushed whimpers escaping from his throat.

Wu Yuhua knows it's not the full moon, knows that it's not the one day a month she's allowed to see her children—but like hell is she going to leave her six-year-old son out there trying to stifle sobs in the snow.

She opens the door. "A-Zhan," she says, bending down and reaching out a hand. "Come in, my sweet boy."

On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses.

~*~

Hello queen I’d like to recommend for ur follower rec posts Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender by KouriArashi. Banger of an ATLA au, def the best one I’ve seen. It’s a WIP but the author updates pretty regularly and it’s all around an A+ fic [Oh, yes, I’ve been waiting for this one to finish before I jump in.]

Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender

by KouriArashi (T, 123k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: You know the drill. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

100 years later, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli find Wei Wuxian sealed in an iceberg.

Featuring: avatar WWX, waterbending JC, firebending Wens, airbending Lans, earthbending Nies and Jins, Jiang Yanli in possession of the brain cell, et cetera.

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs #follower recs

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sapphosclown · 3 years

Text

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day #hope you enjoyed anyways lol #i love them #and this song is them idc #willex week #willex #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #jatp #willex oneshot #willex fic #netflixwewantjatp2 #renew julie and the phantoms

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bbugyu · 3 years

Text

how jeonghan knew

a journey with yoon jeonghan, lee seokmin, and you.

there was always something about his infectious laugh and his genuine nature that felt like fate to jeonghan, and maybe you were the muse that kept their red thread in tact.

prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue

wc.10662 (LMFAO) | fluff, smut, courtship, angsty in the beginning, polyamory, sugar daddy!jeonghan musician!seokmin escort!reader, hi cheol, hi gyu (again), hi boo, hi wonu, gay pining, jk he's pan probably, discovering sexuality, daddy kink, special guest seokmin!!!!!, threesome, lots of mlm, oral, cumpla, handjobs, choking, butt plugs, male penetration, there's a full on reader-less memberxmember sex scene idk, unprotected sex, please use condoms, jeonghan gets overwhelmed, the TEASING, jeonghan being a home improvement freak, don’t mind han jisung he’s just vibing, required listening is positions (2020) by ariana grande because it’s a perfect album

and here we have poly seokhan: the gayening!!! this is going to be the end of my scheduled updates for neverending artistry, but i’ll be posting an epilogue when i finish it - probably after i post a couple of other fics. this chapter.... is my fave......... i think u will see why lol. i went ahead and got a lil carried away with the house stuff but LISTENNNN i watch a lot of architecture videos ok LFJDSJ

thank you all so much for your continued support and incredible feedback on this series! it seriously means so much to me and i love seeing asks and messages from everyone telling me how excited they are to read more. i hope this satisfies you!!!

jeonghan is pretty sure he always loved seokmin. it wasn't something he would ever be able to change about himself, he figured, as he watched his friend date woman after woman in college with varying seriousness. he decidedly ignored any amount of feelings he harbored for the younger, especially after he dropped architecture as his major and he saw less of him.

jeonghan tried to get over the destined musician (he would always be singing or fiddling with his guitar when he was meant to be helping jeonghan with a diorama) with several women, and after decisively focusing on his career for a couple years, he found success in another man. his short lived gym buddy, but lasted quite a bit longer as his boyfriend. they had connected first when jeonghan had offhandedly commented that he liked the logo on his shirt, to which the long lashed, broad shouldered man had said he had gotten it at the brand's store down the street, making jeonghan chew his cheek before he admitted that he had helped design that location. they connected the second time later that night, clumsily but intensely, and jeonghan liked his plush pouty lips and how his messy black hair felt between his fingers.

while that didn't last forever, he found varied success in other men, and he figured this was why dating women had always been so difficult for him. definitely not that he had been given small choice amongst the rotten apples that attended his college.

he was single again, and at an industry party when he reconnected with an old friend from college who happily reminisced about the fun their small group of friends had back then. he asked if jeonghan remembered seokmin, the guy that dropped the program.

"lee seokmin?" he asked, his brows knitting as he tried to react normally to the name, and mingyu hit his shoulder, laughing.

"yeah! guess what? that son of a bitch is teaching my niece piano!"

jeonghan smiled at the idea of seokmin as a piano teacher, nodding along as mingyu talked about how he had volunteered to take her to her lesson one week, only to be put face to face with a long lost friend. jeonghan laughed as mingyu imitated the face the other had made, laughing harder when he recognized it and remembered seeing it on seokmin's face in the past, then telling mingyu about how he had once pranked him by making the poor guy think that he was going to fail a project because seokmin had accidentally destroyed a diorama. it had already been graded, and he was going to take it apart to save on materials anyways, but the younger nearly cried when he thought he had wasted hours of jeonghan's time and cost him the grade by accidentally kicking it off his desk.

he asked how seokmin was doing these days, and mingyu told him he seemed well, and that he takes his niece to her lessons as often as he can spare, just to chat for a while. "i could give you his number," he said, feeling his pockets for his phone. "i'm sure he'd love to hear from you."

mingyu had been right. seokmin did love hearing from him. and he loved the way seokmin made him laugh with his ever joking tone and physical comedy antics. the way his eyebrows creased as he tried to keep a stern face but was unable to hide the smile across his lips. the way he always fought with him for the check despite jeonghan being older and notably better off.

he didn't love, however, how seokmin nodded his head after the waitress and asked him if he thought he had a shot.

maybe he was desperate, or maybe he wanted an excuse to not date seriously, or maybe he just wasn't ready to let go, but jeonghan continued to invite seokmin out, despite the fact that their relationship would never develop past friends who met in college. he enjoyed his company anyways, even if it felt bittersweet.

he poured himself into his work for several months, taking more contracts than usual and keeping himself occupied, only really seeing others for meetings and constructions, or when he was depressed on a friday night and caved, asking seokmin to join him for drinks somewhere. he continued this cycle for too long, his personal assistant noticing his mood changes before most.

"are you taking your vitamins?"

"yes, seungkwan, i'm taking my vitamins," jeonghan bit back, fully aware that he wasn't asking about vitamins at all, but about his state. confirming he was still making an effort to take care of himself rather than spiraling, sat in his living room on a tuesday after being told by a doctor to rest, for god's sake as a solution to him nearly collapsing several hours earlier. seungkwan shifted on his feet, tongue running over his teeth as he stared at the architect, hands folded in front of him.

"you need to stop seeing him. it only hurts you."

jeonghan sighed, staring at the black screen of his television. "i know."

his assistant studied him. "you should come out with the team sometime," he said. "we get drinks on wednesdays, usually. come tomorrow, it could take your mind off things."

jeonghan looked up at seungkwan, who was clearly sucking on his cheek. he knew he was right. more importantly, seungkwan knew he knew, but jeonghan had a hard time wanting to take his mind off this one specific thing, considering the way this one specific thing laughed like a hyena, poured himself over a piano like an ocean wave, and sang along like an angel. his head fell back on the couch, and he had to take a long, conscious breath to lower the ringing in his ears at the silence. "i'll be there next time."

seungkwan exhaled in defeat, eyes flickering around as he excused himself and said goodnight, knowing his boss was lying.

jeonghan found you on accident - put in an uncomfortable corner by an ultimatum from his publicist and the circulating rumor that he sleeps with men because he can't keep a woman around that seemed to pile on top of everything else on his plate - and the second you opened your mouth, he knew you were special.

he remembered the profile he had seen from your broker, and knew you were attending university. he asked you your major, and when you told him you wanted to produce music for a living, something deep in him stirred. you had been sitting in his car for all of twenty minutes, and you nearly had him under your spell already.

he couldn't understand his fascination with you, but he continued to book you for dates, sometimes deciding what event he would be attending by asking what day you were available that week. he figured if he needed to prove to the world that he wasn't gay (which he was, he was pretty sure), you were the only one he was interested in doing it with.

maybe he had a thing for musicians.

he had taken out quite a few escorts before you, but none of them were nearly as fun. you always did an incredible job engaging in whatever event he brought you to, but also hit his chest as you tried to stifle a laugh at something he muttered into your ear, guiding you away. his friends liked you, too, the few he had. the ones that had met you. yongsun had even tugged him aside briefly, asking if he really liked you. you seemed nice, she had said. and good, in general, but also for him. she wanted to make sure he wasn't just leading you along to quiet some stupid rumor. he glanced at you, smiling wide as you excitedly discussed music with one of his other friends (the fifth and last person he liked at this event, the two of you included), and wasn't quite sure why he told her he actually liked you, but didn't feel the need to correct himself.

then you told him you were quitting, and he realized what he would be losing. then you kissed him, and he realized what he had been feeling. then you looked at him with wide eyes, just as shocked as he was by the explosion of fireworks you had both just experienced, and he realized what he had been missing out on all this time.

he figured he must have always loved you as his eyes scanned the hotel bar, confused at how you had managed to get away so quickly. he was running into the hall to see if you had escaped to the lobby when someone caught his arm.

"hey, you seen yongsun?"

jeonghan blinked at his blonde friend, recognizing her play. "have you seen y/n?"

"try the bathroom," she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction she had come from.

he looked down the hall at the restroom signs, nodding. "i saw her at the chocolate fountain a minute ago."

byulyi patted his shoulder as she walked past him. "good luck, yoon."

it felt good telling you the truth, while sitting in your well organized and tastefully decorated studio apartment that you had insisted he would hate, even if he was too scared to admit all of it. why he had needed you before, but wanted you now. his heart nearly beat out of his chest when you agreed to his conditions, though he recognized that he had given you just about every advantage in the deal. it would have been near impossible for you to say no, especially after the way you had kissed him before someone had finally tried to enter the bathroom you were hiding in.

for a while, he only kissed you as a farewell, mostly because he enjoyed the old school romanticism of kissing a beautiful woman in the moonlight, her back against the passenger door of his black vehicle parked on the street outside her studio apartment. then, when he had invited you to his home after the two of you had ditched a boring dinner several hours early, you had curled up in his side to watch a movie. at some point, he caught you staring at him, and you put a hand on his cheek and kissed him sweetly. slowly. kissed him in a way that only made him crave more. you smiled, settling back into his side for the rest of the movie, and even though you had done it unconsciously, the back of your hand rested against his thigh in a way he had a hard time ignoring, and he decided he must have just had real shit taste in women before he had met you.

the following sunday, when you mentioned how pitch black the sky seemed at that late hour, having gotten caught up binging some drama, he not-so-vaguely hinted that he'd be okay with you spending the night in his bed. you eyed him, and he shrugged playfully.

"or i have guest rooms. up to you."

"i have class tomorrow," you tested.

"i can take you," he responded. "if you want."

you paused, watching him as he recorked the wine bottle the two of you had opened earlier in the evening but only managed to have one glass of each before abandoning it to cuddle on the couch. he was always so thoughtful, even in his teasing. he cared about your comfort. he wanted to maintain your boundaries. but it had been a really long time since you had gotten laid, and everything in you yearned to say yes. jeonghan's voice in your head reminded you, no expectations. this could be whatever you wanted out of it.

so you went to bed with him.

jeonghan would swear up and down that you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and his beliefs were only confirmed when he pulled your shirt off of you, dragging your pants down your legs, and got a real look at you for the first time. you felt unexplainably embarrassed under his gaze, asking if he was okay.

"yeah," he said breathlessly, a hand running up your side, your back arching slightly to his touch. he curled over you before he whispered "god, yeah, i'm more than okay," against your lips.

not even ten minutes had passed before you told him you loved him between your panting, and he was so ecstatic when he could tell you, wholly and truthfully, that he loved you, too. and after your pulses had died down and you were falling asleep in his arms, he said that if you were staying under his roof, you were not allowed in any guest rooms. that if you needed space, he would find a different bed to sleep in, because this one looked best with you in it, and he refused to have it any other way.

jeonghan never got bored with you. over time, you began going to his place after events and dinners more than he dropped you off at your apartment, becoming an often enough occurrence that he had asked you one night to fill an online shopping cart with clothes for you to keep in his closet, so you could stop this silly packing bags nonsense. he had already bought you a full set of toiletries for his bathroom, started keeping your favorite snacks in the pantry, and even gone as far as to buy you the house slippers you had offhandedly said were cute when the two of you wandered aimlessly around a mall together. you were becoming a part of his home in more ways than one, and he was happy to have you.

he offered you an unused office on the second floor when you started studying for finals on the peninsula of his kitchen counter one monday afternoon, and you asked what was wrong with you doing it where you were.

"because you're not going to clean it up," he pointed out.

"maybe if we had a rewards system," you argued. "if i clean up, i get a prize."

he laughed, rounding the small jut of countertop, thinking about how he would probably need a proper kitchen island if you were going to be sticking around. "just because i give you an allowance, doesn't mean you're a child. you're not supposed to focus on the baby part of sugar baby."

you pouted as you turned on the stool to face him, a hand gently tugging his tie to pull him into you. "what if i focus on the daddy part of sugar daddy?"

a hunger dropped in jeonghan, gazing down at you as you sat at his kitchen counter, surrounded by textbooks and notes. your eyes sparkled under the lights, and his fingers went behind your neck before he kissed you, muttering against your lips to try calling him that again, angel.

the kitchen remodel had gone about as smoothly as it could have, given the fact that it was nearly impossible to transport such a large slab of granite for his dream island without it snapping in half from its own weight, but they managed, and when the light fixture finally turned on for the first time after the new cabinet doors had been installed, he felt justified in remodeling a kitchen that had hardly needed updating. he felt even more justified when he came downstairs to find you, having woken up in an empty bed, only to have you yell at him as you flipped pancakes on the griddle of his new gas range, saying you were going to bring him breakfast in bed and if he didn't cooperate, he wouldn't see you for a week. he laughed at your threatening spatula, putting his hands up in surrender, unable to stop smiling as he made his way back up the stairs.

you had enrolled in online courses for your last year of school, mostly so you didn't have to be anywhere specific for several hours every day, and instead could keep your schedule massively open to cater to jeonghan's needs. this also meant you usually attended your afternoon lectures at his home, waiting for him to get off work and distract you.

then the two of you started attended wednesday drinks with the team. seungkwan had thanked you, though you hadn't realized that you were deserving of a thanks.

"he'll tell you when he wants to, i guess," he said, twirling the beer in his hand. "but he wasn't in a great place before he met you."

you could hear the subject of your exchange laughing further down the bar, and you wondered what kind of place he meant, but tapped your glass against seungkwan's instead of asking the question. "to better places."

he chuckled, bringing the beer to his lips. "cheers to that."

jeonghan enjoyed having you on his lap on the couch, listening to whatever r&b record you had chosen as you worked your lips against his. he nudged several kisses down your neck, and you mentioned offhandedly that there was a perfect place in his living room for a bar, pointing at the wall behind him. he pulled away from you, turning his body with an arm over the back of the sofa, and his head cocked as he stared at the wall that only held a painting. he silently agreed with you, wondering why you seemed to inspire all his recent projects as you nipped at his neck, drawing his attention back to you with a smile on his face.

the bar was finished in time to hire a bartender for a halloween party. he hadn't told the guests that it was an anniversary party, but you had been made aware of the secret arrangement during a conversation the two of you had over a private meal in your favorite restaurant the week before.

"a threesome," you asked, hoping for clarification.

"with a guy, preferably," jeonghan said. "but i could be convinced to approve of a girl if that's what you would like."

"you're being serious?" you seemed to find yourself asking him that a lot. every time he suggested something that he knew you wanted, you wondered if he was pulling your leg. "and you want me to choose?"

"yeah, at the party," he said, watching you shake your head incredulously with a smile on his face. the two of you had discussed the possibility in the past, and he thought it made a fun gift. an unexpected one, from someone who had enough money to comfortably gift you just about anything. "i have to approve, obviously, but you get to pick the candidates."

you thought a moment. "what if we can't agree on anyone?"

"then i take you to bed alone and we have fun anyways."

he laughed when you squinted at him.

"if the opportunity comes up down the line, we can try again later," he said. "but i thought this would give you something fun to do while i'm hosting guests."

and it had, as you sneakily scoped out the guests, flitting around the party of both familiar and unfamiliar faces in your angelic cheerleading costume. visiting and laughing heartily with the team, as well as your uni friends that jeonghan insisted you invite, offering them more drinks, then saying something about having to play hostess so you could continue your search. byulyi and yongsun were there, and you complimented their matching rapunzel and flynn get up, jeonghan catching you for just a second to ask if you needed anything.

you settled in on one target perhaps too quickly, without even really having made an effort to see all the options. you had been struck by the same sharp cheekbones, puppy dog eyes, and crooked smile that jeonghan had once fallen for. when he saw you tucked into lee seokmin's side, recognizing your flirting even from a distance and noticing how receptive the musician was to it, his heart fluttered, and he couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

a good thing, he decided, when seokmin had asked him permission before he came in you. because, seemingly, sexuality was much more of a spectrum than jeonghan had once thought, and perhaps his college crush just needed the encouragement of an incredible woman to try something a little beyond his experience, much like he had.

and when you wouldn't stop mentioning the musician the two of you had enjoyed the company of while schmoozing guests at the opening of him and his friend's collaborative art exhibit, he got a slick idea. on the way home, he told you that you weren't allowed to make a noise until he hung up the phone, but you were already writhing in the passenger seat just as the phone rang.

and when he answered, you clamped a hand over your mouth, a bare foot landing on the dashboard as you tried to grind against jeonghan's hand, his voice steady as he talked to the younger.

and when he mentioned you, your walls pulsed around his fingers, a smile finding its way into his lips as he spoke. he tried not to take too much pleasure in the way you looked at him with begging eyes and your fist between your teeth, or in the way seokmin's tone dropped as he confirmed that he would get a cab, but he truly couldn't help himself when he made eye contact with seokmin as you sucked him off, his hips canting into yours recklessly, forcing seokmin to break the contact as he reacted to your moan on his cock.

he noticed the way seokmin's hips began to move on their own, begging for enough control to chase his nearing high in your mouth but having it brought right to his doorstep instead. jeonghan felt your perfect heat cling to him in reaction, and before he could think to stop himself, he pulled you into his chest by your throat, not daring to let you claim it all as he lapped cum from your mouth. you whimpered against him, your orgasm lasting impossibly long as he fucked into you, getting milked by your needy walls.

when he caught seokmin staring directly at him, he grinned and wiped the back of his hand across his chin and lower lip, languidly licking any escaped cum off it, and asked if he wanted to try his, too.

seokmin agreed, nodding shakily before jeonghan massaged at your sides, pumping himself into you a few more times. he told you to give seokmin's mouth a ride. you groaned, his cum dripping down your thighs.

jeonghan watched the younger's cock twitch as you moaned over him, one hand on the wall and the other on his scalp, his fingers digging into your thighs. he stared at how it never lost hardness. he didn't even realize that his hands were on seokmin's hip and thigh before he even asked if he could touch him, but a large hand left your thigh to shakily bring jeonghan's to his thick cock, answering the question despite you occupying his mouth, his fingers lingering over jeonghan's as he pumped his length.

he couldn't deny that how badly he wanted to fuck seokmin, but he could settle for making him cum in his hands until he was ready for something more, especially with the surprising amount he had to give after already having cum once. he let himself indulge in a single lick across seokmin's sensitive slit - though it was hard to stop there - triggering a garbled moan before he left to shower.

a week or so later, jeonghan asked you if you were interested in dating seokmin. you put your phone down and rolled over in bed, propped up on your elbows as you asked him what he meant.

"i love you," jeonghan assured, pulling you to lay closer to him. "and i can tell you like him."

you studied his face. "but i'm with you."

"that doesn't have to stop," he said, smiling at you as he tucked a hand behind his head. you eyed his arm briefly, then refocused on him. "but you know how things get in the winter, and i would be okay with you trying things out with him while i'm busy."

"you're being serious?"

jeonghan laughed at the familiar question. "yes, y/n, i'm being serious. i know you want me, but i also know you want more than me."

you had never told anyone about your desire for multiple partners, not even admitted it out loud to yourself, so his candid assessment caught you off guard. "how did you-"

"just little things you've said," he teased, leaving you to question how much you had revealed about yourself without realizing. "besides, no one can deny the chemistry."

you paused. "boundaries?"

"just tell me," he said, putting his arms around you and tugging you into him. "i just want to know when you're seeing him. and, eventually, i would like to be invited every once in a while."

"invited to dates?" you asked, throwing a leg over his lap to straddle it as you laid over him. "or invited to bed?"

he smiled up at you, hands running over your rear. "either. both. whatever you two want."

you agreed, but only after you made him promise he would tell you if anything changed for him. that he had to tell you about every doubt and worry he had. "i'll always choose you," you stated plainly, lips brushing against his as he gently rolled his growing length up against your clothed heat. "no matter what, i'll choose you."

"i know, sweetheart," he said, a hand on your cheek as he kissed you. "i promise."

after he came back from a business trip in december, you admitted to him that you and seokmin had exchanged i love yous, and he just put an arm over your shoulder and turned down the volume on the tv, telling you that he was pretty sure he loved seokmin, too.

"it was him, wasn't it?" you asked, studying his profile. "he was the guy you couldn't get over?"

jeonghan rubbed his face with one hand, sighing. "yeah, it was him."

"why didn't you say anything?"

he thought a moment. "i didn't want you to feel obligated, i guess."

your fingers straightened the seams of his long sleeved shirt across his shoulder. "obligated to win him over for you?"

"obligated to love him, too."

"jokes on you," you giggled. "he's very easy to fall in love with."

jeonghan supposed that was true, thinking of how quickly he had fallen for him, even back before he had admitted he liked men. how he had fallen into the same spot even years later, just over a shared meal and a few bottles of soju.

but you were easy to fall in love with too, he thought, remembering how he hadn't even understood his feelings towards you until you had kissed him, but he had felt them strong enough to want you to stay by his side anyways. maybe jeonghan just fell easily, but maybe he was lucky enough to have found his people at such a young age.

you settled back into the crook of his arm and asked him what he thought about seokmin coming over to join you two for christmas. while much of the world celebrated with family, it was more of a hallmark holiday in korea, often times spent with a long time sweetheart or a budding romance. or both, in your case, jeonghan supposed, when you were distracted trying to find the third christmas music lp you had specifically gotten for the occasion (out of eight, of course, because you didn't want to run out of christmas music). he was leaning against the tasteful home bar that had been hardly touched since halloween when seokmin shyly admitted that he knew jeonghan was interested in him.

he said nothing for a moment. "she told you?"

"kind of, back when you were in japan, but-" seokmin paused. "i think she was just suspicious, but i should have known. you were always too kind to me."

"not too kind," jeonghan said, hiding behind his wine as he sipped at it, trying not to show his embarrassment.

"i think i'm interested, too."

he looked at seokmin, who was staring down at his hands. "are you sure?"

"i'm-" he paused, catching jeonghan's eyes for only a second before scratching the back of his neck. "i think so. i've never even thought about doing anything with - uh - men. until you."

"that's okay," jeonghan said, looking to where you were flipping through records. "i didn't like women until y/n."

seokmin faltered. "wait, really?"

he nodded, a small smile on his face. "i thought i was gay. turns out i'm not."

"but you-" the musician stretched his jaw. "weren't you kind of a player in college?"

he almost said something about how having sex to meet an end and keep an appearance was different than enjoying it, but stopped himself when you announced that you had found the lost record, switching the lps with a flourish and setting the player again. and while he was curious about the level of seokmin's interest in him, he was happy to leave the conversation where it stood when you excitedly rejoined them at the bar.

"do you think i could be a bartender?" you asked, leaning over the counter and grabbing an unused shaker.

"probably," seokmin said.

"for sure no," jeonghan laughed.

you pouted at the latter, holding the shaker between your hands as you directed your attention to the former. "thank you, seokmin. i appreciate you encouraging my dreams."

"any time," he joked.

jeonghan rolled his eyes. "what about that music degree i'm paying for?" he asked, taking another sip.

"just because you've known what you wanted to do forever, doesn't mean everyone does. maybe i'll change my mind." you tried to spin the shaker in your hand, but the force you used was too little and it stopped on your palm too quickly, clumsily clattering to the counter. you stilled it, exhaling sharply when jeonghan giggled beside you, looking to seokmin. "he might be right."

"it's almost like i know you," jeonghan teased, nudging you. "she was convinced she could become my personal bartender for all of two weeks."

"i tried," you whined. seokmin laughed. "the tricks are harder than they look."

"and you hated shaking drinks."

you put the shaker back, defeated. "the ice made it cold."

"isn't that the point?" seokmin asked.

jeonghan smiled at you. "you're lucky i like wine."

"i'm gonna talk to you now," you announced, turning your body to seokmin. "because you're nicer to me than he is."

"aw," the architect chuckled, and seokmin watched you react to a squeeze at your butt. "did he make you soft? can't take my teasing anymore?"

you ignored him, trying to ask the man in front of you about his lessons, but you yelped when his hand firmly landed on your ass, grabbing seokmin's arm in reaction. he looked at you, seemingly just as shocked, and you tried to continue the conversation, but jeonghan's hand didn't leave, and your entire body was reacting to the way it was slowly hiking up your skirt and running between your thighs.

your eyes fell shut, and you muttered for him to cut it out as your grip on seokmin's arm tightened, but jeonghan just made eye contact with the other male, asking him instead if he should.

without thinking, seokmin shook his head and put his hands on your jaw, pulling you in to kiss him. your moan against his lips was involuntary, and jeonghan grinned as his fingers ran over your core, making you whine.

"did you tell him?" you gasped out, asking seokmin with hooded eyes. he shook his head, saying that he hadn't told him everything.

"told me what?" jeonghan asked, interest piqued as he put down his glass, pulling his hand out from your skirt and placing them on your hips instead, squeezing gently as he stood behind you, and your head fell back into his shoulder without much intention as you licked your lips. "seokmin?"

he pulled his gaze, trained on your mouth, to look at jeonghan, and he felt his breath stop in his throat as he fully processed the sight in front of him. you gasped again, as jeonghan's hand came up to knead at your breast, and you tried to pull seokmin closer, but he didn't stop moving even when he was pressed against you.

jeonghan thought he might faint. he wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but when seokmin's hand found the back of his neck and pulled him over your shoulder, his mind went blank. when his lips found his, his vision went white. when he felt his tongue against the inside of his teeth, he couldn't help but moan, one hand gripping your waist and the other aimlessly tugging on seokmin's shirt, seemingly just to hold something that belonged to him.

"fuck, okay," jeonghan breathed, staring after the musicians lips even when they left. you giggled, recognizing the feeling. "okay," he repeated. "got it. understood."

you spun around, hands on jeonghan's chest. "we prepared something for you," you said, and seokmin's cheeks and ears were bright red when he sheepishly nodded with you.

jeonghan looked between the two of you, swallowing suddenly. "what?"

you tugged on his hand, then grabbed seokmin's, too, when he didn't move right away, leading them both to walk around the couch. you pulled jeonghan onto the cushions with you, kissing him briefly before he realized someone was between his knees. when he saw him, that was when jeonghan's dick woke up, suddenly realizing what was happening.

"be nice," you muttered against the shell of his ear, your hand running down his torso. "it's his first time."

seokmin's hands were strong but gentle, and despite never having touched a dick that wasn't attached to him, he knew what felt good. he needed a bit of guidance from you to begin, less from lack of knowing the process and more because he was nervous, but quickly found a comfortable rhythm. jeonghan sighed when he finally got pulled out of his pants, and you were sucking a mark into his neck, his arm wrapped around you and his hand kneading at your rear. his eyes could hardly stay open when seokmin ran his flattened tongue up the underside of his cock.

"isn't he pretty?" you asked, whispering, a smile on your lips.

he groaned, threading his fingers behind seokmin's ear, desperately trying to hold back his release because he hasn't even put you in his mouth, yet, jeonghan, for god's sake, keep it together. the younger's eyes flickered up to his, and he nearly came just from the feeling of his soft lips around his member, sinking slowly.

"fuck, you're too good at this," jeonghan said, the half chuckle on his lips falling quickly when seokmin's tongue ran over a vein, the warmth of his mouth feeling like heaven. his teeth bit down on his lower lip, watching your hand run through seokmin's hair. he hummed at the contact, his grip tightening slightly, sending a jolt through jeonghan's system. "fuck, i'm gonna cum already."

"there were lessons," you giggled, your hands wrapping casually around his neck. his breathing hitched, eyes falling shut, focusing on the mouth sheathing his cock as he recognized your fidgeting fingers over his pulse. "merry christmas, daddy."

he inhaled sharply right before you squeezed at his throat, and he thought that he should maybe let you lead more often if it was going to feel this good. seokmin seemed surprised by the feeling of jeonghan cumming in his mouth, but he did his best to pump every drop from him, swallowing thickly. you only smiled when jeonghan sat up, leaving you behind as he pulled seokmin's face to his, his hands running up jeonghan's thighs as he kissed him.

jeonghan decided the sunroom extension was all wrong, and that he'd have to redo it.

"you just built that," wonwoo said, having been the contractor that oversaw the construction. "besides, it's snowy season, we can't do outdoor construction. you'll have to wait til spring."

"not outdoor," jeonghan said, rolling out the drafting papers he had drawn up over the course of his new year break, the final pieces being completed in the wee hours of that morning. he had sent wonwoo a text as soon as he thought he would be awake, asking for a meeting despite it only being two days after the new year. "the shell can stay the same, we just need to build indoors. besides, i need this done in february."

wonwoo blinked at him. "when in february?"

"it has to be fully furnished by the 18th."

the contractor laughed at the deadline, only a month and a half out, as he looked over jeonghan's drafts. it would be a tight schedule, considering the structural changes he wanted, but he recognized his long time work partner's determination and knew there was little he could do to argue. "okay. let's get to work."

he turned down a contract for a café to make time for the new home project, but not before recommending they contact a kim mingyu, giving him the vaguest thank you for introducing seokmin back into his life. he didn't have time to draw several attempted variations of every café he had ever designed, he was too busy mapping out the logistics of adding a lofted space to the two story sunroom. too busy planning to tear out the outer wall of your office and picking the right sliding glass doors that would lead to the loft. you had to ask him several days in a row before he finally told you what he had planned.

"a music room?"

he tried to gauge your reaction. "is it crazy?"

you broke out into a smile, studying his design, gripping the mug that held your latté that morning. "absolutely, but i love it."

he asked you to help him pick instruments, saying his wishlist included a white grand piano and three to five guitars that could be displayed together. he also told you to pick out your dream computer setup for production - you were graduating that year, afterall, and it was about time you started using something other than your laptop and a midi controller to make music - and you almost started crying from how fucking excited that made you.

hiding the plans from seokmin was the hardest part, especially when he started spending weekends at the house. he saw the construction area often, and one friday afternoon, he had even asked if he could help, leaving you to usher him away and assure him that jeonghan didn't like help when it came to these things. he believed the white lie, allowing you to distract him with the option of watching shit television in bed, even convincing him that tonight was the night to surprise his new boyfriend. seokmin laid in bed with his arms wrapped around you, trying not to move too much, fully aware that even the slightest movements in his body caused his dick to come to life, until the last of the workers left and jeonghan appeared, asking if there were dinner requests before he went to take a shower.

seokmin had been training with you for over a week. you had bought him some toys, even helped him try them out in the comfort of his loft, and he got increasingly excited - generally, but also in those moments - to show jeonghan what he had learned. the surprise he had been keeping had already made him beg you to cockwarm him as he waited, but you refused on account of knowing him, and by extension, knowing that he would not being able to stop himself. he had a bit more confidence, though it may have only been fueled by horniness, when he pulled the vaguely sweaty architect toward him on the bed. he tried to say something about how he should really wash up, but seokmin just kissed him, hands gripping around his skull in desperation, his dick already hard against jeonghan's pelvis.

jeonghan's hands wandered, as they usually did, and when he reached down to palm at seokmin's ass, he reacted in a way that earned him a questioning glance.

"we - ah-" his eyes shut, jeonghan's hands getting closer to his surprise. "she's been helping me-"

and that was when he felt it. the small, hard handle of a plug, situated between seokmin's perky asscheeks, easy to feel through the loose fabric of his shorts, and jeonghan felt his arousal tenting his pants just from the concept.

jeonghan hadn't even noticed your movement off the bed until a bottle of lube hit his leg, looking down at it briefly before looking to you.

"i'm gonna go clean up," you said, running a hand through your hair as you retreated to the bathroom, leaving jeonghan with an already flustered seokmin.

before long, he had him on his back, naked, and finally got to see how sweet his little ass looked when jeonghan pushed his knees towards his chest. when he saw the black knob fitting tightly into his hole, he groaned, his own bare cock flinching in need. he put a hand on seokmin's dick, gripping it lightly, then put a thumb against the plug.

"nngh- fuck," seokmin stammered, fingers gripping at the bedsheets as his neck stretched out against the pillows, bucking into the hand wrapped around him. "j-jeonghan…"

"this is cute," he said, slowly moving his thumb in a circular motion, the plug's movement making seokmin let out choked moans. "but i really need to play with you now."

seokmin nodded, hurriedly, brows knit together. "please."

he hooked his fingers under the knob of the plug, slowly pulling it out and relishing in the reaction. the younger's back arched in a way that jeonghan wished he could see from every angle, knowing that the way his shoulders and back looked must have been incredible, but satisfied by just watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes clamped shut, his fingers gripping at jeonghan's hand where it stayed on his dick.

he began to pump the dick in his palm, setting aside the plug and grabbing the lube, popping it open with just his left hand and quickly squirting a healthy amount onto the tip of seokmin's penis, making quick work of spreading it completely over the engorged member, the slickness making him moan even louder and reach out for jeonghan's shoulders.

he let seokmin tug him over him, kissing him briefly before looking down at where the younger's thighs spread over his, wanting nothing more than to just fuck him already.

jeonghan's hand left seokmin's cock, leaving him whining against his lips, but it was short lived as his lubed fingers slid down to his puckered hole.

"seokmin," he muttered, studying his face. "you're sure, right?"

"fuck, i've been wanting this for since christmas, jeonghan," he sputtered out, eyes barely able to focus when there were fingers teasing his entrance. "yes, please, i'm sure."

jeonghan slid a digit into the tight hole, watching seokmin's face as his brows creased and his head fell back, a moan tumbling from his lips. another finger, jeonghan decided, and the reaction was similar, making him smirk.

"god, you're ready, aren't you?"

"please," he begged. "i want you."

jeonghan sat back, and the musician got on his elbows to watch as he readied his cock with lube, putting more on his finger and spreading it around seokmin's hole. he whined when jeonghan placed the head of his dick at his entrance, tugging him over him again.

"i'll go slow, okay?" jeonghan assured him. "tell me if i need to stop."

seokmin just nodded, eyes trained on his, and they locked lips as jeonghan pushed his hips forward slowly, the man under him immediately moaning and huffing against his mouth.

jeonghan really liked sex with seokmin. he also really liked sex with you. but he was pretty sure he liked it the most when you were both present.

seokmin didn't walk right for a day and a half, and while he was slightly embarrassed, you told him it was a badge of honor he should wear proudly. afterall, he had done the same to you on halloween.

"how's your butt?" you asked when he came down the stairs, the sunday morning after they had done the deed without you, making him choke out a laugh as you got his tea out of a cabinet in jeonghan's kitchen.

"better than yesterday," he said, gingerly seating himself at a stool. "but not as good as friday."

you eyed him. "before or during?"

seokmin thought a second. "both."

"good morning," jeonghan said, quickly planting kisses on the man and then you, cheek and lips respectively based on the convenience as he walked past you, making his way to the espresso machine. "i think i'm gonna work on the sunroom today."

"today?" you asked. "wonwoo's gonna say no."

"wonwoo isn't getting invited. i still have to find furniture," he said, rinsing out the espresso shot glass and wiping down the portafilter. "we're getting close to deadline, i need boo to order the upholstery job on tuesday and i have a meeting tomorrow."

"when's deadline?" seokmin asked, wondering why he had one for a home project.

jeonghan blinked at the wall, not even turning towards the younger. "don't worry your pretty head about it."

you pouted, closing the short distance and wrapping your arms around him, your chin on his shoulder. "it's sunday. can't we cuddled puddle?"

"you mean like we do every night?" jeonghan asked, but grinding espresso beans so you couldn't answer the rhetorical question, packing down the grounds. "if you want to cuddle puddle, don't get out of bed so early."

you huffed as you dropped your arms, leaving him to prep a glass for his americano. "whatever. seokmin and i will have fun without you."

"what kind of fun?"

you stick your tongue out at him, using a teasing voice when you said "wouldn't you like to know."

innocent fun, was the truth, but you thought it was a victimless bluff. you spent the morning sitting on the couch with seokmin while a record played, discussing everything from your favorite movies to your weirdest dreams. you had to get up every six songs or so to flip or change the record, but seokmin liked that every time you rejoined him on the couch, you got closer to his side until you were eventually snuggling into his side, arms wrapped around his torso.

the innocence stopped when jeonghan emerged from his study, joining the two of you for a break. he planted himself on the other side of seokmin, under his arm, letting his hand not-so-subtly run over his thigh. you noticed the contact, peeking around to jeonghan.

"what kind of break are you looking for, hannie?"

he adjusted. "an inspiring one."

you giggled, recognizing the euphemism he used whenever he was stuck on something for work as you leaned back again. "that means he's horny."

seokmin sputtered out a laugh, jeonghan chuckling at your direct observation. "it's hard to not think about you two sitting out here, having fun without me."

"you may not believe it," seokmin said. "but i don't think sex was even on the table for us two today."

jeonghan's eyes met his, and he swallowed harshly. "can it be on the table for all three of us?"

the comfort of returning to bed was hard to deny, especially when they had you laid out against seokmin's chest as he was pressed against the headboard, his mouth attached to your neck and his fingers twisting a nipple, all while jeonghan was digging his digits further into you with his tongue flicking against your clit.

seokmin grunted, rutting his hips against your back. "fuck, he looks good there."

you gasped, nodding, biting at your lip as he kneaded your breast, your fingers digging into jeonghan's hair. "you both do."

jeonghan never struggled to pull you apart, his deft fingers and teasing lips making you squirm and moan until you were shaking, mouth hanging open as your vision blurred and he told you you tasted like candy.

"minnie," jeonghan prompted, making the younger sit up with you whining against him to clean your taste off his fingers. his dick throbbed in need, watching the singer's agile tongue against him, wishing it wasn't just on his fingers.

seokmin had to practically beg jeonghan to fuck him again, but his only hesitation was that he may not have recovered yet. seokmin was on his back and gripped at jeonghan's thighs, urging him forward as your hand twisted around his thick, throbbing cock.

jeonghan swallowed, pausing despite being covered in lube and in position. "you're sure?"

"yes," seokmin said, gasping at your hand on him. "jeonghan, i appreciate you asking, but i'm always sure when it comes to you."

you weren't sure you had ever seen jeonghan blush like that in bed, and you smiled against seokmin's neck as he groaned, his cock firming in your grasp as the older pushed into him. you admired seokmin's silent scream, his head lolling to one side at the feeling.

"angel," jeonghan sighed, settling into the way seokmin squeezed around him. "what do you wanna do?"

you teased a thumb over seokmin's slit. "i wanna ride."

"f-fuuck-" seokmin panted, his hips resting against jeonghan's spread thighs as his knees hung to either side. "i'm not- nngh- gonna last."

"you don't have to," you said matter of factly, adjusting to straddle his torso. jeonghan winced, watching your form as he pumped into seokmin. "we're done when daddy says so."

you put your hand, palm up, over your shoulder, and jeonghan chuckled at the recognized motion for him to spit on your fingers - usually, so that you could slick his dick to sit back on it. you worked jeonghan's spit over seokmin's engorged cock, then slowly lowered yourself onto him.

seokmin stared up at you, eyes fluttering and mouth open, suddenly not only feeling impossibly full, but also absolutely stuffed into you. he moaned out loud when jeonghan bumped into his spot, overwhelmed by the simultaneous pleasure. you fell forward onto his chest, holding yourself up with shaky arms as your face hovered over his, both of you trying to hold off your own demises.

then, jeonghan pushed himself deep into seokmin, who whined, his dick pushing up against your cervix. you nearly collapsed, whimpering as your forehead fell to his, gasping into a desperate kiss. jeonghan groaned, his hand running over your hip as he looked at the intersection of you all, staring at the way you barely contained all of seokmin before he leaned forward and kissed your spine.

"you two will kill me," he said, one hand holding you firmly at your waist while the other gripped seokmin's thigh as he picked up his pace. you both moaned, fingernails digging into the plushest part of your thigh when seokmin questioned how much longer he could hold out at jeonghan's unrelenting pace.

a long, high pitched whine fell from his lips. "fuck, i need to cum," he rushed out, bleary eyes barely opening as he looked at you.

"hang on, baby," jeonghan said. "ladies first."

you babbled against seokmin's lips, somehow never being able to get used to the way he filled you, though jeonghan pushing him into you didn't help. you could do nothing but repeat curses in increasing pitch, pushing your face into seokmin's neck as your walls clamped down around him. his mouth gaped, desperately trying to not succumb to your plush insides before he got the okay.

jeonghan smiled at how seokmin tried to focus on him, despite his hands gripping you as you shook against him. "go ahead, baby."

so seokmin went. and god, he went, coating you internally, immediately squeezing out around his stuffed cock and onto his lap, making jeonghan pant as he kept his hips moving, chasing his own end. he leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked into seokmin, not stopping until his eyes were clamped shut and he was painting his walls white.

there was a long period of time where none of you moved, then another after you had all managed to untangle from each other. jeonghan sat back, leaning against a hand and scratching his brow as he breathed heavily.

"bathtub cuddle puddle?"

you laughed, chest heaving as you looked over to him, but it was seokmin who spoke. "that sounds nice."

he started to get suspicious when his birthday got closer.

jeonghan told you to suggest a dinner outing for that night to divert attention, but he had caught you moving one of the guitars for the music room only a few days before his birthday, and he looked at you with squinted eyes when he asked if it was for him and you hurriedly said no, hiding the guitar behind your back despite him clearly being able to see it.

"i panicked," you told jeonghan, eyes wide. "he saw it in me. he could tell it wasn't just the guitar."

"it'll be fine, y/n," he said, pushing around potted plants until they satisfied him. "he has to think it's weird that we haven't let him see this room yet, anyways."

you chewed your cheek, looking around the almost completed sunroom. the tall windows showed the light snowflakes falling from the sky, not quite thick enough to leave a layer but enough to make the enclosed yard look slightly pastel. despite the open space that looked out into the cold seoul winter, it stayed cozy, heat radiating from the floorboards and the faux fur rugs laid across them. the space near the entrance had a raised floor with a grand piano, along with several guitars hanging upon the wall, while the area partially covered by the balcony had two heavily cushioned, dark heather gray couches and a bright armchair, adorned with pillows and cable knit blankets.

jeonghan had a slight obsessive nature when it came to his home projects. he was meticulous with contracts, too, but he truly wanted this house to be perfect - not just for him, but for the people he loved. so you watched him rearrange pillows about four more times before you ran up the stairs to the loft to see if he had changed anything there since you had looked the day before.

it almost felt as though it was outdoors, with plants hanging off the edge of the railing and the rustic desk he had originally picked for your office placed to one side. you imagined doing schoolwork here, fantasizing slightly about watching seokmin play piano from your vantage point as you wrote essays. you slid open the glass doors to peek into your new office.

he had painted the walls white, taking a hint from the styling in your own apartment when he picked out a neutral toned couch and light wood shelving, your early graduation present of a computer set up spread across an L shaped desk. he had even paid to have your upright piano moved here, and cut into the next room over to give you more space for an electric drumset. you couldn't help but smile, imagining your friends coming over to record stuff with you. you had always felt strange about inviting them to your rich boyfriend's house, despite him insisting they were welcome, but he had really gone through the trouble of making a room so perfect for all of them that you had no choice.

and it was brighter, you thought. you had told him you worked better in bright spaces.

despite jeonghan's promises, the music room renovation felt like it was as much a gift for you as it was for seokmin. though, maybe he couldn't help it, when the reasons he loved you both overlapped so much.

you went to seokmin's apartment the next day with a bagged gift for him, arriving again right as his client was leaving, and you smiled at the same young man you had seen the first time you had come to visit seokmin. you knew his name now, not because you had spoken to him much, but because you had been told about him by his teacher, and you congratulated him on getting a gig the upcoming weekend.

"oh," jisung said, glancing between the two of you. "he talks about me?"

you laughed and gave him a fighting, seokmin looking upwards to hide his embarrassment as he ushered his student toward the door. "have a nice week, jisung! i'll try to be there this weekend," he said, throwing you a look as you giggled.

"it's not for guitar, you don't have to come," the younger assured. "but if you want to, bring your girlfriend!"

"yeah!" you said, putting your fists on your hips. "i'm getting you dinner for your birthday tonight, the least you can do is take me to an underground rap show!"

"okay, both of you, no more talking," seokmin said, trying and failing to prevent jisung from stopping in his tracks at the news that it was his birthday.

"woah, teach, happy birthday!" he laughed. "you weren't gonna say anything?" he kept talking even as his teacher pushed him out of his apartment.

you couldn't stop grinning when the door closed, seokmin turning to you. he pointed at you, trying to hide his smile as he could only get out a vaguely annoyed "you."

"happy birthday, baby," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. he softened against you, smiling as you pulled away, his hands on your waist as he thanked you quietly.

"he asks about you a lot," seokmin said, joining you when you laughed at the fact. "i think he has a crush on you."

you rolled your eyes. "stop bragging about me, then."

"i don't brag," he said, smiling into another kiss. "i just tell the truth. i can't help that you're a dream come true."

you only pulled away from him to grab the two thick paper bags that you had set on his couch. "c'mon, we gotta head out. open your presents."

seokmin's mouth dropped open when he saw the logo on the bag. "wait, you didn't."

"i had to," you said, giggling as he grabbed one and tugged it open, moving to the couch to pull the garment out. "you said you wanted it."

"where did you find one?" he asked, staring at the corduroy parka from the brand you saw him wear constantly. "they've been sold out for weeks!"

"i got it before then, duh." you poked his cheek when he pouted at you, his eyebrows knit. "there's more, stop getting distracted."

seokmin hugged you extra tight as a thank you for his romantic crown haul, and he decisively pulled on the golden yellow shirt with the pizza on the back, making you grin at how perfectly jeonghan had predicted his thought process before you dragged him out of his apartment to go get dinner.

"we're just picking it up," you said, jangling a keychain. he gave you a quirked eyebrow, and you giggled, pulling him over to jeonghan's car. "do you wanna see it self drive?"

you pushed the side door closed with your butt and called out to jeonghan, saying the birthday boy was here. seokmin took the pizza boxes from your arms and put them on the kitchen counter as jeonghan walked around the stairs.

"well one of us has to change," jeonghan said facetiously, and seokmin looked down at the yellow shirt peeking through his half zipped parka, looking back up at jeonghan, who was wearing the same shirt.

"wait wait wait," you giggled, turning around to undo the zipper of your own jacket, pulling it open as you spun around to reveal that you, too, were wearing the shirt.

seokmin looked between you two with wide eyes, his eyebrows creasing. "you got us matching shirts?"

"pizza shirt gang!" you giggled, stripping off your jacket. "do you like them?"

he smiled into a disbelieving laugh. "how did you know i would put it on?"

"because we know you, minnie," jeonghan said, reaching for his hand after he took off his new coat. "before we eat, i finished the sunroom today, wanna see it?"

"hang on," seokmin stopped, making his hand fall from jeonghan's. "that's not the gift, right?" he looked at you. "the sunroom isn't the gift?"

you pursed your lips, looking at the ceiling, and seokmin started to argue, making jeonghan laughed. "who cares if it's for you, i just want you to come look at it."

jeonghan is pretty sure he always loved seokmin. it wasn't something he would ever be able to change about himself, he figured, as he watched his lover cover his face with his hands, sinking to crouch on the floor as his eyes looked around the large room that was lit by fairy light. the first thing he had seen was the piano, which made him gasp, then he saw the guitars, and looked at your smiling face, suddenly connecting dots, unable to stay standing from the shock as he understood why he hadn't been allowed to help.

and then he started crying.

the two of you ushered him to a couch, sitting him down as he sniffed back the tears. you sat beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and cooing, jeonghan crouching on the floor in front of him.

"i'm sorry," jeonghan said, smiling slightly as he gave him an apologetic look. "i didn't mean to overwhelm you."

seokmin choked on a laugh, wiping at his cheeks. "how did you think i'd react?"

"i don't think he thought about it," you whispered, knowing full well jeonghan could hear you.

"i got a little carried away," he admitted, hand rubbing comforting circles on seokmin's leg. "you're special to me, so i wanted to make something special for you."

"this," seokmin said, looking around, gesturing at his surroundings. "this?"

the older huffed out a laugh, almost embarrassed. "yeah, this."

seokmin laughed too, eyes wet as he looked into the other's. "i can't believe you would make something this incredible for me."

"you're incredible," jeonghan said. "i want you to feel welcome in my home."

"i couldn't believe the record wall, either," you offered when seokmin seemed speechless, pressing your cheek against the his shoulder, hand rubbing his back. "jeonghan's love language is a little unique."

seokmin sniffed one more time, studying jeonghan's face, his brow creasing ever so slightly. "holy shit, i'm in love with you."

your heart stopped as you pulled away slightly to look at him, then jeonghan, who was frozen.

"i didn't realize that's what this was," seokmin said, hand gripping the one on his thigh. "i knew i liked you, but this is-"

jeonghan rose quickly, seating himself at seokmin's other side and kissed him. "i love you," he said, thumbs wiping over his slightly damp cheekbones. "it's taken me years to admit it, but i love you."

seokmin kissed him again in response, his face feeling hot from the continued attention. he broke away, only to look around the room again, jeonghan studying his face with a smile as he did.

"i think," seokmin said, clearing his throat when the words came out weak. he looked to you, then to jeonghan. "i think this is the best birthday i've ever had."

jeonghan laughed. "we haven't even had the pizza yet."

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aphrodite-made-me-write-it · 3 years

Text

Revelations: XIV

Part Four: Show Me

(A/N) Whoops sorry y’all it’s been a bad work week. i hate being a supervisor. i hate being in charge asdf;lksjf anyway we’re a few chapters away from the end!! yeehaw! thanks to everyone who reads this series, ilysm, and i’m gonna be posting a lot of wanda content soon bc i.... have a new hyperfixation idk and all i’ve been doing at work besides trying to withhold my unholy wrath is write wanda fics in my stupid notes app. bc, y’know, adulthood. anyway xoxo

♫ ♫ ♫

Rating: M

Warnings: Hella PTSD flashbacks; Death (Graphic); Blood mention; Spiraling Thoughts; OOC Justice League bc i do what i want; Mentions of childhood experimentation and technically i guess murder; Gay Pining; Confusing Feelings; Grief ofc; Shrek Mention

Pairing: Diana Prince x Fem!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,484

Total Word Count: 19,594

Synopsis: You finally meet with the Justice League and begin to plan your invasion of ARC. You learn more than you want to about your purpose and past. Barry is wise beyond his years.

| I | II | III | IV | more coming soon |

It was the first time they’d let you out of the compound since your first arrival. The warmth of the sun is what surprises you the most - you’d forgotten how it felt on your skin. You sigh, eyelids fluttering closed as you inhale deeply. Fresh air.

Something else that surprises you, is the way the world opens before you. A living thing, teeming with beauty.

You feel a hard shove in your shoulder, your eyes snapping open. “Keep moving, D-14.” The man gruffs.

You try to focus on the path in front of you, your peers eyeing you skeptically. You feel their apprehension, their fear.

Ever since G-43 showed up, she’s been acting strange, you aren't sure who feels this way; maybe it's all of them. You've never exactly been popular among your peers.

One of the most annoying parts of your abilities was the bond that opened up among others like you. It wasn’t like telepathy, but it was an odd sort of communication. One that didn’t need words. Just feelings, translated into something coherent.

It was strange.

It was annoying.

You stop in the middle of a field, right next to one of the imposing Guard Towers. No wire fences were needed at the Compound, despite the dense forest surrounding it. No one ever escaped - no one ever dared to try.

(Sometimes, though, when it’s just you and Daisy, you dream of it.)

(You’re going to get out of here.)

(You have to.)

“Today, you’re going to fly,” the General explains, running his fingers through his facial hair. “I will remind you, that there tower,” he gestures to it in a twitchy motion, “will easily take you down before you’s can even think of flyin’ outta here. It’s a clear day. Don’t be stupid.”

You take to it much quicker than the others, though that was typical of you. You’d had your powers the longest, and sometimes it seemed like you were born to have them. It's possibly the biggest thing that contributes to the others' disdain of you, though they try to hide it as best as they can. Flight was the most natural feeling in the world, the most wonderful. You took to it like a bird might, like you were always meant to do it.

When Daisy catches onto it, it’s only better.

Though you can’t touch the clouds like you’d like to, there’s something intimately beautiful about having her here with you, in the air. Her dark hair floats around her, head thrown back in laughter.

Through the bond, you feel something tumultuous happening when her eyes meet yours. Something wonderful, and new. Her hands find yours, curling your fingers together as a soft smile graces her lips.

The memory changes. It flickers, like static, and the image of Daisy holding your hands twists into something unrecognizable.

A stormy night. Cold rain splattering your skin, stabbing at it. She’s screaming your name, agony etched in her voice. Her wings lay almost flat against her back in a dive, the only light illuminating the pained expression on her face as she reaches for you. Lightning flashes; you think you see blood in the air.

Through the pain in your chest, you try to reach up to her. To grab her fingers. To touch her again. Anything. Like it could possibly ease the terrifyingly familiar ache of inescapable death. You are helpless to it. Though you reach for her hand, you can’t help seeing the hand of the old woman, beckoning you back to that hauntingly still meadow.

There’s gunfire. Or is it thunder?

Daisy’s expression shifts abruptly. Her pain and her shock overwhelm you. She’s petrified, she’s hurt- and then she’s nothing. No feelings at all, the bond falling loose as if a string had been cut. Expression slack, her body suddenly goes limp.

Heat envelopes you. An unbridled anger, reverberating from deep, deep inside of you. You think you surround yourself in light, but you can’t be sure because the woman is there, she’s watching, she’s calling to you. There’s another crack of thunder, this time so loud it makes your very bones vibrate.

"Come to the meadow.”

You cannot go.

Not without her.

Daisy’s limbs fall at her sides, but she isn’t falling and neither are you. You are suspended, though not in air. It feels thick, warm - like blood. You are drowning.

Daisy is gone.

- - - -

Diana has a harder time soothing you from this nightmare. Since moving, you’d been having them more and more frequently, and it seemed like they were often the same. It worried her, but she wasn’t sure how to ask about them without possibly triggering you.

You’d been given a week to settle in until the rest of the Justice League joined to go over the evidence gathered on Richman and his lucrative ARC program. As the days progressed, you just seemed to get worse and worse. It was driving Diana mad and you tried your best to hide it but even without the bond she could feel it. Whatever was eating at you, it was starting to eat away at her, too.

Tonight, she decides just as soon as you stop sniffling into her shoulder, you have to tell her what’s going on in that head of yours. You can sense the question; she doesn’t even have to voice it. Still, you savor the bliss of silence before you dare speak out and burst this bubble of protection that only Diana has managed to provide.

“I remember dying,” you whisper into the darkness. Your room overlooks the mountainside, and through the sheer curtains the early pinks of dawn are beginning to spill over the horizon. It’s a misty morning, rain still clinging to the window pane. “That night, I mean,” you explain, pulling away from her a little. It’s easier to talk about when your main focus is on the plush blanket wrapped around you and Diana. You toy with one of the threads for a long moment, trying to formulate the words to explain yourself.

“I could have told her to keep going,” you continue, a little breathlessly. “But I just wanted to touch her one more time. I knew I was going to die - I could feel it.” You frown, thinking hard. “And I could see that woman, too. I really thought it was going to be-” your throat closes, Diana’s hand rubs soothing circles into the small of your back. “But, I keep thinking about it. Getting shot. Watching her reaching for me…” You try (and fail) to blink away the tears that find themselves resurfacing.

“This is not something you can just forget, sweet one,” Diana murmurs. “You are not to blame for her death. Or your own, for that matter. The hardest part of loss is letting go.”

“I can’t let go if I don’t know what I lost,” you huff, frustrated.

“I know,” Diana’s soft tone makes you meet her eyes again. That warmth surrounds you once more, like she’s pulling you into an endless summer. “But letting go of needing to know is important, too.”

Not for the first time, you wonder what it would be like if you just closed this small distance. Here, in the earliest hours of the dawn, the possibilities seem endless. Would she kiss you back? Would she want to? Or would it ruin everything you have - which, admittedly, isn’t much to begin with?

It’s terrifying not knowing, and you’re even more terrified of digging around to find out using your powers. It feels invasive, and you’re much too afraid of the answer anyway. Still, you think about it. Think about the way her lips look so soft when she just wakes up, slightly pouty and adorable. The way you’d do anything to know what they taste like. (Anything, that is, except for actually taking that leap.)

The spell is broken by the low rumble of thunder. It makes you jump closer to Diana, a tremble wracking through you.

“Come on, lay down with me,” she urges softly, pulling you down onto her own pillow. She pulls the blanket up, and eases you almost entirely on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, and if it wasn’t for the next roll of thunder, you’d almost certainly start thinking about kissing her again.

Instead, you lay your head on her chest and listen to the steadying beat of her heart. It’s strong, and it’s more of a comfort to you than any other sound. Maybe that’s just the dead-girl-walking speaking for you, but knowing Diana is here, alive, in your arms? It’s powerfully potent.

Fingers comb idly through your hair, the action so soothing your eyes flutter shut despite the next round of thunder.

“We’ll make him pay,” Diana murmurs into the dawn. “I promise.”

You want to believe her, but you’re starting to wonder if he can be stopped at all. If it’s worth all this trouble stopping him for your sake. (There are others, you remind yourself. Others who need to be helped. Others like you.)

- - - -

You almost want to laugh at the gigantic table that the Justice League gathers at. It’s sort of cartoonish, in your opinion - definitely overkill - but Diana’s hand on your knee keeps you in check.

“Well, one thing is for certain: Richman is cheating the hell out of the system.” Victor announces, once everyone is settled. “Being a privately owned - and funded - organization, not many rules apply to him that might apply to, say, a government-supported facility.” He turns his attention to the large monitor behind him. It comes to life with what looks like some kind of document, but it’s difficult to read when it’s all so condensed.

“This is their central server,” he explains. “It’s got their basic operations, and is probably all that’s being monitored legally. Long story short, Richman’s obsessed with NDE’s, also known as ADE’s, or ‘Near Death Experiences’ and ‘After Death Experiences’. Some folks come back with strange abilities, if they come back at all. Your standard stuff, mostly. Enhanced intelligence, speaking with the dead…” He passes through a file that’s marked clearly as ‘DOE’. “Those who don’t adjust well… or don’t conform well, I should say, are exterminated. (Y/N) isn’t on this list, but that’s likely because they’ve realized she’s very much not exterminated.” He gives you a smile, and though it’s the first time you’ve met the guy, you find it easy to return the gesture.

“Seems like most subjects are found just after they’ve hit puberty. Maybe helps the process along,” Victor hums. “Most that experience this type of… well, torture, don’t make it. Out of thirty-seven, only one survived. Bet you guys can’t guess who.” You blush when all eyes briefly glance at you, but force yourself to keep a smile on your face, however forced. “Now, this is where we get to the good stuff. The HALO project.”

“Beginning with Subject D-14’s unique ADE, HALO was launched to delve deeper into those ‘visited’ by extranormal entities. Not passed loved ones, but entirely different beings. More specifically, a woman. Some see her as a younger woman, or even a child, and others, a much older one. These subjects often came back with abilities that possibly altered reality.” Victor pauses, your file coming up on the screen.

It’s so strange, seeing you like that.

You look different.

You’ve got the same face, you think. Same nose, same eyes, same skin color. But there’s something missing. You can’t quite place it.

The uniform you’re in is familiar. You can almost see the rest of it in the back of your mind. White, long sleeved, and bright yellow wings on the back, right where your own wings would be.

“She can alter reality?” Barry questions, eyeing you with surprise.

“Sort of,” Victor coughs into his hand. “If you’d let me continue…”

“Right,” Barry sits back. “Go on.”

“Those who meet this woman come back with weird powers, but ADE’s are always strictly monitored, so they don’t last too long. If they die again, they almost never meet the woman again, and will likely stay dead. So it’s sort of a sweet-spot, I guess, to just visit her once and get the power of life itself.”

“I thought you said she altered reality-” Clark begins, but quickly shuts up at the glare Victor sends him.

“As I was saying… whoever popped into HALO was touched by something not of this world. Or, at least, not this dimension, and brought a piece of it back. They can slip into a whole other world, and open a gateway between this one and the next. That’s what Richman is after.”

“A ticket to heaven…” Diana mutters, almost in awe. “He’s…”

“Deplorable?” Barry offers. “Maniacal? Insane?”

“Their experiments with that have been a failure. That is, until (Y/N) survived a non-controlled ADE. The only thing I could find about the day she was supposed to be exterminated, is that some kind of… portal opened. Or something.” He sighs, pointing at the encrypted code on screen. “Still haven’t broken through that one.”

“I think we have enough information to take action, wouldn’t you agree?” Bruce stands, all eyes focusing on him. “Richman is trying to get his hands on something unattainable by any human means.”

“I agree,” Barry nods. “Alternate Dimensions are not something to mess with.”

“How do we know he can open that other world with (Y/N)?” Hal questions. “What if he gets someone else involved?”

“Unlikely. There’s something about (Y/N) and her continuous encounters with the entity that allowed her to access this... whatever it is.” Victor interjects. “But if that were to happen, then that’s even more of a reason to shut it down manually. I’ve got all their security cams already - it’s amazing how little they pay attention to those - and their alarm systems shouldn’t be too hard.”

“So we need a game plan, then,” Clark hums. “(Y/N), what do you suggest?”

You blink in alarm. “Uh-” Diana’s hand firmly squeezes your knee, anchoring you in the moment. “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s more than a few guards in there. Including people who were part of the… y’know, HALO thing.”

“We don’t want to hurt them.” Diana assures.

You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “They’re trained in hand-to-hand combat… not many of us could use our powers the way that I can. Maybe-” you pause. “When I escaped, there were waves of guards.”

“We can handle that.” Barry grins, looking a little too eager at the idea of a fight.

“We still need to make a solid plan,” Bruce declares. “But I think this was enough for today.”

You’re really doing this.

Never again, you promise silently to yourself. Nobody will ever have to suffer through this pain ever again.

- - - -

“So, (Y/N),” Barry leans against the wall as you wait for Diana to join you in the gym. “Are you and Diana, like… y’know…”

You frown at him. “Uh… what?”

“Like, do you guys sleep together?”

“Every night, why?” You ask.

You don’t expect his expression to go slack, or the shock to ripple through him.

“Wait, Diana finally got with someone-” he begins but you quickly cut him off once you notice the brunette approaching.

“No! Nope! Not like that- oh my god-” your whole face is burning by the time Diana gets to you, an amused smirk on her face.

“Barry, leave her alone,” she scolds, her hand finding your wrist.

“Diana, when were you gonna tell me you had a-” Barry starts, Diana’s resounding glare shutting him up.

“What was that about?” Diana asks once Barry speeds away in the blink of an eye.

“Barry thinks we’re dating,” you shrug, trying to sound casual despite the red still burning away at your cheeks.

“Does he?” Diana’s smirk widens as she slips into the sparring ring. “And what did you say?”

Your blush returns full-force when she helps you up onto the platform. “I- well, he asked if we were sleeping together and I said ‘every night’. I forgot that meant something else...”

Diana’s laugh is full and boisterous, the most beautiful melody besides her heartbeat. “No wonder you’re blushing so hard.”

“Hey!” You defend, getting into a sparring position. “You’re gonna eat those words.”

“Come at me, then,” she challenges.

Diana gives her all in a fight, even in a spar. She might like you, but she doesn’t pull any punches. She knows you can handle it, too, and as two of the strongest beings in the whole HQ, your sparring sessions are loud and often destructive.

Diana has the upperhand today, though. You get lost in your thoughts about her again, and it isn’t long before she’s got you pinned. Maybe it’s just the position, but your mind instantly races once your eyes meet Diana’s.

She’s so close again. So, so close. You could just-

You can’t.

Diana’s gaze flickers down, but she stands up slowly with an offered hand. “Come on, get back up.”

Does she know what she makes you feel?

- - - -

What surprises you most about kissing, you think, is the way it makes your whole body buzz. You’d always known about it, of course, but in practice it was… shockingly pleasant. Who knew mashing lips together could feel so good?

Daisy pulls away, breathless, her eyes wide with something like wonder.

“What?” You ask, stupidly, because the silence feels strange between you.

“I just… really, really like you,” she admits, her olive complexion turning darker with her blush. “Is that so bad?”

You snort. “Here? Yeah, sort of.”

“You know we aren’t the only ones. The people here - they’re real people. They don’t know what the outside world is really like.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve got more experience than anyone else, so… yeah. Yeah I do.” Her smile is easy to match. “When we get out of here, we can kiss as much as we want. Wherever we want. It won’t always be like this.”

It feels dangerous. More of a threat than a promise, though it shouldn’t be. If anyone knew - if anyone sees - you can’t stand the thought of the punishment.

But it’s worth it.

This is worth it. It’s worth everything. It’s worth escaping for.

“Then I can’t wait,” you whisper, her lips pushing back onto yours.

- - - -

One of your favorite things that Diana does - and there is a very long and still growing list - is tie her hair back when she’s particularly focused on something. Bruce laid out a possible plan for breaking into ARC and shutting it down, and he wanted Diana to overlook it before presenting it to the rest of the League.

Victor thinks that you have some kind of weird ability to open a portal, which is all well and good but you’ve got no idea how he thinks that’s going to help anything. You wonder if he wants to see this portal for himself, but just isn’t saying so.

Hal has been trying to teach you things about altering reality. His powers apparently mess with atoms and whatever the hell, so he figures he might be the best teacher out of everyone in the League. You start to learn that your powers are rather similar to his own, in that aspect - your light can turn into a physical form, if you focus enough of your energy. A sword, a shield, an axe.

The more you learn about yourself, the more you start to wonder if maybe your purpose in ARC hadn’t just been to open a portal. You’re starting to realize that, maybe, you’re some kind of weapon. The weapon, if what Vic says about you is true.

Barry, at least, is the only person who doesn’t seem to view you as some strange experiment (besides Diana). When Diana is locked away with Bruce and Clark, you find yourself spending more time with him than anyone else. He seems just about as lost as you with everyone else taking charge of their theories.

He’s fun to talk to, at least.

“So,” he says, sitting down beside you in the moderately large recreation room. The couch is black, like most of the furniture here, and leather. You’ve got no doubt Bruce was heavily involved in the decorating process. Diana likes splashes of color here and there, but Bruce doesn’t seem to like much of anything that isn’t a variant of grey or black. “How long have you been in love with Diana?”

Your stomach drops so fast and so hard you feel the blood draining from your face, eyes wide and mouth parted. “W-what?” It’s a croak, a pathetic sound.

He laughs with delight at your reaction. “Geez, didn’t mean to freak you out. I figured an empath of all people would know her own emotions.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” you mumble, cheeks suddenly burning.

“It’s fine, you know. If you love her, I mean. We all kind of have a bet going on about it.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” You try to look as menacing as Diana, but it doesn’t have any effect on him. Instead, he runs a hand through his hair and hums thoughtfully.

“Me, Vic and Hal, of course. Clark and Bruce said something about ’not getting involved’ but that’s just because they’re too afraid of Diana to participate.”

You snort. “And I’m not something to fear?”

“You’re a literal angel. I’ll start fearing you when you willingly give out punches like Diana.”

“I’m starting to consider it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, though. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

You avoid his inquisitive gaze, instead focusing on the television. It’s some cheesy romcom that you’ve paid half of your attention to. Some guy is holding up a box over his head, music blasting from it. Maybe you haven’t told her because you aren’t sure how to do it. Is holding a box of music like that actually successful?

“I don’t know,” you admit reluctantly. “I guess I don’t know how.”

“Well you aren’t John Cusack, and I don’t think Diana is a Peter Gabriel fan. Besides, you two spend more time cuddling than any non-dating couple I know.” He drums his fingers against his knees. “Have you tried showing her?”

“What?” You blink in surprise. Does he know that much about your abilities?

“You know, like the small stuff. Compliment her, do things for her to show her you care.” He shrugs. “Simple stuff.”

“Uh-” you clear your throat to ease the tension in it. “Well, I haven’t, no. But you might be right about showing her. I just- I mean, what if-”

“Don’t say, ’what if she doesn’t love me back?’” Barry groans, throwing his head back against the cushions. “For someone so sensitive to emotions, you really have no clue what someone’s feeling.”

“I just… I don’t think I know what that feeling… erm, feels like? I mean, I think I knew, once, but...” You frown to yourself. “I mean, the way that I grew up… I don’t know. It sounds kind of stupid saying out loud.”

“Nah, I get it. Trauma does that to you.” He nods, focusing back on the television. The credits are rolling, now, the names too small and too fast for you to read. “But you shouldn’t be afraid of it, even if you don’t entirely know what it is.”

You give him an uneasy smile. “Thanks, Barry. You’re kind of smart, when you want to be.”

He scoffs. “I’m a genius. And an expert movie critic.” He reaches for the remote between you. “Romcoms don’t teach you anything about the real world.”

(He proceeds to choose a childrens movie about a green man with strange ears and a donkey companion. You aren’t sure what this is teaching you, but maybe he had a point before. Maybe you should just show her how you feel.)

- - - -

Diana knows something is up the moment she finds you in your shared bedroom. You look anxious, but not in the typical way that she’s come to familiarize with you. It’s a different sort of nerves crackling beneath the surface of that smile of yours.

“Can we go for a walk?” You’d asked, and of course she doesn’t say no. She can’t imagine a situation where she’d ever say no to you.

You really like these mountains. It’s so alive, here. You can sense a deer herd wandering further into the woods, and almost mindlessly follow them, though you stick to the dirt trails. (Diana has warned you how easy it is to get lost in these mountains, not to mention the presence of bears. Best not to disturb the wildlife.)

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, and the shadows of the trees become reaching hands, you hold your palm up and summon a small orb of light. You give Diana a nervous smile as she observes the action; the light slowly morphs into a blooming flower. She watches, a slow grin pulling at the corners of her lips.

“This is nice,” she comments quietly, as if afraid to break the noise of the evening. “We should do this more often.”

“I, um, wanted to be away from all the noise. The boys are great and all, but they’re… loud. Emotionally, I mean. Very dramatic.” You wrinkle your nose, looking down at the flower as it lights your path. You sound stupid. You should just give up and turn back.

“I’m glad,” Diana hums, then pauses briefly. You stop abruptly to watch her. She’s confused, she’s Summer, and she’s thawing you to the very core. “Why did you want to be alone with me?”

You bite your lip nervously. “I-I wanted to show you something.” You swallow nervously, your skin feeling too hot and too tight for your existence. You wish you knew how to open that portal. Being sucked into another dimension sounds less painful than this.

You hold out your hand, the one without the blossom, and face your palm up. Hesitantly, Diana reaches out and touches her fingertips to it. It’s much less jarring, now, than it had once been. Feeling the connection open wide with Diana is almost as easy as breathing.

You focus on that feeling, trying to bring it to the surface in the crashing waves. The harder you try, the more vibrant your source of light becomes. Like Diana’s reaching into it, too. Something seems to click into place, and there’s just this… indescribable warmth.

Love. You’re certain of it. It seems so obvious, now.

You open your eyes to find that Diana is closing the small distance.

And then she’s kissing you.

- - - - (Next Chapter) - - - -

TAGS! ♡ @nobody13 ♡ @fireflyglass ♡ @swords-are-cool ♡ @artapdarkstr ♡ @pasta-bandit ♡ @multi-images ♡ @aznblossom ♡

#ahaha left u on a cliffhanger ooo beech tune in next week #but seriously though i #i really really can't stop thinking about absolutely railing wanda maximoff so i think we're gonna end up having smut soon #i wish i didn't let my sister have the holy watergun bc sometimes i think i need it more than she does #MY SHIELD IS LEGIT ARRIVING TOMORROW I HAD TO ACCESSS ALL MY WHITE BLONDE BITCH ENERGY INTO TALKING TO THE POST OFFICE #bc i have a longstanding rivallry w them that i cannot discuss in these tags #but needless to say i got my way as usual and i am v excited im gonna CRY #im smol im anger and i am MENTALLY UNSTABLE COME AT ME FUCKERS #ok boring tags leggo my eggo #diana prince imagine #diana prince x reader #wonder woman imagine #wonder woman x reader #gxg imagine #nobody13 #fireflyglass #swords-are-cool #artapdarkstr #pasta-bandit #multi-images #aznblossom

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