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kpoptrashlord-007 · 3 years

Text

Hide && Seek;; YHW

Word Count;; 3.5k

Genre;; HORROR

Pairing;; Hwanwoong x Reader

Summary;;

Inside this grand, lavish hotel and its sparkling veneer of respectability, you find yourself playing the role of the feline in a little game of cat and mouse. Your opponent? Hwanwoong, the man with the angelic smile and carefree eyes. The further you chase him, however, the harder it is to settle your nerves. The line between predator and prey is blurring and you can't help but wonder who exactly is pursuing who.

Warnings;;

TW// Blood, Character Death (random side character), Supernatural and Dark Themes!! Graphic depictions of violence! I’m serious here! It’s a bit intense. NOT for the light of heart (or stomach). Oh, and explicit language.

Please be mindful of these warnings as this features EXPLICIT violence.

Notes;;

Day Nine of the Halloween 2k20 Prompts! ~Monster~

My Masterlist

You've had too much to drink.

With a cloudy mind, you stumble after your companion. Your feet drag as you lag behind him. You pass many doors but he doesn't stop. Further down the hall and deeper into the building you travel, long past the area of the hotel reserved for guests.

His silky hair bounces every time he turns to you. After what feels like an eternity staring at the back of his head, you appreciate the fleeting glimpses of gleaming eyes and that cheeky smile he flashes your way. He's keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't wander off in your drunken haze. That much is obvious but you don't mind, not really. In return you are dutiful in your pursuit of him.

You can't recall where he is taking you. With half a mind to ask, your mouth falls open only to snap shut - he's looking back at you now with such an intensity that all you can do is stare in return. There's something swirling deep within his eyes but you can't pinpoint it; you can't put your finger on what emotion is prevalent in his gaze as it bears into your soul.

Seconds crawl by.

One foot in front of the other, you're on autopilot as you follow him without a thought of your own, your mind zeroing in on the burning intensity of his stare. He pulls you deeper into his hypnotic, hungry eyes with every step all the while leading you deeper into the bowels of the hotel. For some reason you trust him and you don't question the dubious situation despite this being the first night you've met.

There's a familiarity about him that lures you.

You come across a red sign and some yellow tape. He steps over it so you do too, tripping over your own feet to catch back up to him as his pace quickens. He disappears around a corner and you chase him. You're always hot on his trail and yet you remain so far behind.

Your hand slides down the wall as you round the corner. Chips of paint slough off and embed within the soft flesh of your palm. With a hiss of pain, you look down. Tiny beads of blood well around the points of impact, each marked by stiff, sharp shards of paint.

If you pull them out now, sure, it'll sting, but leaving them in will only cause misery later alongside a possible infection.

With your mind set, you get to work. It's a struggle to remove the tiny pieces but you try nonetheless. They're small and fragile, breaking before you have a chance to remove the whole fragment but you don't give up. Piece after piece, you pick and scrape into the tender, sensitive skin.

Blood flows more freely now. It's hard to see the paint when there's so much blood leaking out of the growing gashes but you're stubborn. You don't leave jobs half-done and you can feel more of the tiny shards just beneath the skin, taunting you. They slip deeper the further your nails chase them.

As if they're makeshift pliers, your middle finger and thumb stretch open the skin while your pointer finger digs deep, blood and flesh pulsing from the assault.

"Having fun?"

You stop dead in your tracks.

Rubbing your eyes in an attempt to clear away the alcohol-induced haze, you frown. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen. You squint as you scour, searching up and down from the cracked floor to the peeling ceiling, but find no clues as to his whereabouts.

Brushing it off, you look back down to your palm and the involuntary shiver that rocks your whole body leaves you trembling.

It's sobering.

The complete lack of blood, paint splinters, and cuts is sobering.

"Funny, isn't it?"

"What the fuck?"

It's a whisper meant to be consumed by the thundering silence and yet you know he heard it. He's lingering. Nowhere to be seen but everywhere at once, Hwanwoong is both near and far. You can't wrap your head around it.

Then there's the shift in the hall that is plain inexplicable. Up is down and down is... gone. You haven't any proof, just a gut feeling, but it's enough and you worry that if you do check, there will be nothing at all. Will you fall, then, like a cartoon character who has just realised they're running on air? Will you plummet right through the floor, tumbling out of reality in your pursuit of Hwanwoong?

Where did he go?

Dropping your hand out of view, you consider it lost to you now. Anything below the waist feels numb, as if it has merged with the darkness you suspect 'down' has become. Eye level seems safe enough so you gaze from side to side.

It isn't how you remember it to be.

The wall is pristine. There are no cracks. The paint isn't sloughing off. Nary a blemish marks the white, clean walls on either side of you. It's dangerous to let your eyes wander and yet you have no real control over yourself. They drift up and down, still cautious of the ceiling and floor but eager to solve this mystery all the same.

Turning your head, you gaze back at the corner where you had injured yourself. At least you thought you had. There is no bend or corner there, just a straight pathway leading you to…

You gulp, taking a step backward.

At the end of the hallway there's a room you wish to avoid.

At the end of the hallway there's a door that beckons to you.

It whispers the promise of death.

Snapping around once more, you run. You run and you run and you run until your lungs cannot bear it any longer and your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. No matter how far you go, there's no exit.

Gulping down air while resting against the wall, your nails dig into the plaster in an attempt to keep your body from collapsing down into the void. It comes up to your knees and the longer you stay still, the harder it is to move. Your head wobbles and shakes with every breath before your eyes flutter close.

Just a quick breather you tell yourself, knowing full well that if you don't snap out of this reverie, you'll fall headfirst into the madness consuming you.

"Should we play?"

The gasp bubbling free from deep within dissipates beneath the constriction of your throat. Nails impale themselves into the tender flesh of your neck. The higher you're lifted, the stronger his grasp becomes. Blood pools in your feet. Your body shakes. Your mind screams. Your eyes open.

But there's nothing.

Checking your neck for blood, you find it isn't even sore to the touch. Before you is that endless hallway but not a living presence is nearby. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen, though this fact doesn't surprise you any longer.

When your senses return to you, you're gazing at the floor. The same floor you feared mere moments ago. The carpet is ugly but otherwise harmless. There's no hell awaiting you and there's no darkness devouring you inch by inch. Releasing a shaky exhale, you risk turning back to face it.

Your nightmare.

The door.

Carved out within the wall at the end of the hall, it waits for you. Despite how far you've tried to run away from it, it remains just where it has always been. From beneath the threshold you see the edge of the refracted light, its pattern dancing and shimmering. It's a taunt handmade for you.

You take a step forward. Unlike your futile attempt to escape in the other direction, the gap shortens. You take another step. There's several indents in the wall lining the way. They're the perfect size for a door and yet when you run your hand along the edges, there's no air nor light seeping through. A solid wall greets your shoulder when you try to force a new entryway.

While inching closer to the final door and its kaleidoscope of sparkling light, you pound against the hall and all its false doors. Nothing budges and nothing gives. It isn't until you turn to cross the hall, intent on scouring the other side for a hole or error in the design, that you notice the infinite shards of reflective light and how they flood the hallway. Splashes of bright light dance across your skin. Eerie silence follows.

The door is ajar.

Reaching out, the tip of your fingers graze against the metallic overcoat. It's old and rough to the touch. You want to pull back, to turn around and escape this personalised hell, but the room is summoning you. It's a call to judgement and you daren't ignore it. You must atone.

The door creaks once your palm meets it. Though it looks heavy, it flies wide open with a single push. A tidal wave of light bursts through. Your heartbeat escalates.

It's impossible.

What you see is impossible and yet your past is here in vivid detail. From the view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the much closer fog over the outdoor jacuzzi to the soft jams of his radio and the desperate splashing of water to the stinging chlorine that, even now, burns your nose. It's all the same - right down to that fucking shimmering pool and the woman in it.

"Should we play some more?" Hwanwoong purrs.

His body presses against your own and you can feel the way it shakes with every syllable, as if he is brimming with excitement. For once, you know he's truly here with you. Whether 'here' is within the halls of the hotel or back inside that rich psycho's mansion isn't clear to you, however.

Perhaps you hadn't been the one to walk away after all.

"Have you been bad? Should I punish you?"

There's no room between your bodies but that doesn't stop you from trying to push past him, to squirm around him, to force him out of the room with the sparkling, refractive light and the secret it holds.

"Nah-uh, not so fast cutie." He smiles at you and your feeble attempt to move him. "Let's play a game."

"No!"

"Huh?"

"I don't want to! I need to get out of here, you don't underst-"

"But you don't even know what the game is yet," he pouts, gripping a fistful of your hair and stopping you dead in your tracks. With how tight his hold is, there's no doubt that the shearing burn exploding outward from the roots is your hair ripping from your skull. You can't silence the scream that escapes your quivering lips.

There's a voice in the back of mind that tells you to endure, to experience firsthand what you put her through.

Whether from blood or sweat, you feel a sticky dampness forming along your hairline. He loosens his grip once the tears flow down your face like a broken faucet. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shakes his head and murmurs something. You can't make out the words over the pounding of blood within your ears. It takes a few minutes before you're able to think straight and he waits for you the whole time, content to just watch.

"What-" you hiss through the dulling pain, "-game?"

"You're so resilient. I like that about you, sweet cheeks. Let's play… hide and seek. Do you know how to play?" He waits for a response and the jerk of your head suffices. Satisfied that you're paying attention, he grins. There's something ethereal about him and the way his skin glows and his eyes shine. It's no wonder you had followed him so willingly. He just seems so safe. Angelic, even. "Then go hide, silly."

With a push, you find yourself stumbling into the room with its giant pool and hypnotising effects. Unable to remain upright, you slip. The poolside puddles turn red when your cheek kisses the ground and blood spills forth from the piece of your tongue you damn near bite off.

There's a sharp stinging pain in your thigh. Deep within your pant pocket is a solid, round secret. It digs into your leg, bruising the skin down to the bone, and you wince as you stand. From pure reflex you grasp it and hold it in place, scared to lose it.

"I didn't think it would be us," the woman cries, sliding down the white walls and crumpling to the floor.

"Better us than the others," you mumble out of instinct, following along with the memory.

"I don't want to hurt you!" She's full on bawling now, tears and snot flowing down her face. You stand and wipe away the blood seeping from your split lip and torn tongue before spitting the excess into the pool. The water looks beautiful. It's gleaming and bright, unlike the last twenty-one hours.

"Better you than the others."

Dragging your injured foot, you approach her. She ignores your towering presence and focuses on staring into one of the little black cameras that have been watching the event unfold. You're running out of gas but she isn't faring much better.

You can finish this.

"Just let us go! Please, I don't want to die," she sobs, pleading with the red, blinking light on the camera. "We don't even care about the money."

Whether it's because of the trust born from a promise made hours prior, back when the odds were tilted in a much more dire direction, or because she thinks she can bargain for her life, she continues to ignore you.

What a mistake.

There's killing intent in your aura. It consumes you. Even you can tell and you're quite new to this murder business. And if you can tell, she can tell. After all, before the event your lives were quite similar. Parallel, even. If you could adjust this fast, so could she.

And yet she's crying on the floor and ignoring you, you with eyes devoid of empathy.

You with a pool ball in your grasp.

You with blood on your hands.

You within striking distance.

"We just want to live!"

"Better me than you."

Her desperate mewling ceases. Instead, her attention snaps to you. She can no longer ignore the threat you possess, not when you've released your weapon of choice from the soft material of your pants. Fear spreads across her dainty features like wildfire. Trying to escape the animosity spiraling over your form with your every step, she forces herself into a corner.

"But we agreed not t-"

Physics works in your favour. Velocity, force, and all that, but the semantics don't matter - all that matters is that the impact leaves a splatter and her body is limp. You discard the pool ball and it rolls away, leaving a trail of fresh blood in its wake. Red seeps deep into the grout between polished tiles.

Relief strikes seconds after the realisation of your success dawns upon you.

It is soon, however, drowned by the overwhelming sense of guilt.

You may have won but at what cost?

Her blood on your face stains you much deeper than the man's had. His attack had come as a surprise. It had been a fight for survival after a helping hand turned feral. You had no choice, not if you wanted to live, and by God you wanted to live. Not just to exist, but to explore and to enjoy and to possess.

Avarice paints your skin in the darkest shade of red.

Shooting two birds with one stone, you drag her to the poolside. Blood gushes from her forehead. It fills the room with an unmistakable and distasteful scent. Resisting the urge to recoil, you drop to your knees. Water soaks through your pants until dark wet spots cover your whole lower half. It's an uncomfortable sensation but you push it aside, instead focusing on the slight bobbing of her chest.

She's the last of them.

She's the final obstacle in your pursuit of wealth.

And she's still fucking breathing.

It takes a few seconds for her consciousness to return after you submerge her head beneath the surface. Her resistance starts immediately thereafter. She contorts and she struggles, pulling away from the iron-tight grip scarring her skull only to sink further into the depths of the pool. Your nails deep into flesh as you seek a more steady hold but you soon lose your footing to the slippery, polished tiles and topple onto her back.

There's a loud crack and you know between your weight and the position she's found herself in with half of her body in the water and the other half flailing behind her that it is too much pressure for her fragile bones. Her ribs crack one by one, fracturing like the snap of a twig. She screams but the water consumes the sounds, rising bubbles the only evidence.

From a deep shade of red to a soft pink, the water dilutes outward from the nonstop stream of blood gushing from her growing wounds.

"I'm sorry, but I've come too far to care about you."

The words are a reassurance to yourself. They serve as a reminder: this isn't who you are. You're a victim of circumstance. Someone had to do it so why not you? You've come too far to chicken out now. You've come too far to pity the ones that had to fall in order for you to rise.

Your soul is malleable beneath the corruption of sin.

Once her struggling ceases, you hold her down for a bit longer. When enough time passes that even an Olympic swimmer's lung capacity would fail them, you hold her down for a bit longer. Even though the blood no longer rushes forth and she's cold to the touch, you hold her down for a bit longer.

It isn't until the room floods with light that you release her. Strands of her hair twist around your fingers as her body sinks into the depths. The further she descends, the deeper the darkness that consumes her becomes. You cannot see the bottom and soon she is lost to you, claimed by the cold void.

A hand rests on your shoulder and you jump.

This is when they escort you off the grounds, give you the money, and remind you of the contract.

This is when the nightmare is supposed to end.

For the first time, your memory alters. No blanket is wrapped around you nor is anyone calling your name, ushering you out of the battlegrounds. Instead the hand on your shoulder lifts to cradle your chin, tilting your head back to face your companion. A playful smile greets your widening gaze.

"I found you," Hwanwoong coos, petting your cheek. "I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you that guilt was eating you alive but this is always better than I could ever imagine."

"Please let me go," you stammer, fear settling in the gut of your stomach.

"Let you go? Do you not want me to clear you of this burden?"

"No, please, I only did what I had to!"

"Do you not want me to free you of this sin?"

"I did nothing wrong! Surviving isn't a crime!"

"Unfortunately for you, your opinion doesn't mean anything to me. 'I've come too far to care about you'," he mimics with a smirk. "I found you, just as I always do. And now…

"The dawn of judgement is upon you."

His palm meets your chest in a harsh push and you tumble. Even though your foot catches on the edge of the pool, it's much too slippery, too wet from your prior confrontation and you find yourself falling backward.

'-just as I always do.'

With widening eyes, you watch the ceiling blur above you. It's not what you expect of a pool room. In fact, you know it's not. Rather it's the white speckled panels of the hotel you had been stumbling around at three in the morning in a drunken haze as the years of guilt culminate in another reckless search for trouble, another desperate attempt to feel something.

Is it still that same morning?

Has time passed in a blink or has it frozen altogether?

'I found you-'

Just as he always does, he found you hiding within that same memory, stuck inside that single slice of hell. Just as he always does, he uses your weakness against you. He plays with you for a time until he gets bored of it all and sets you loose within the hotel.

And then he plays with you anew.

In this moment of falling, he allows you to remember. It's the final squeeze of pleasure he can extract from this iteration and he squeezes it dry. He watches fear born of knowledge contort your features and he indulges in it for as long as he can.

Hwanwoong's soft, angelic face etches into your mind, replacing the gift of truth with a lie of familiarity and trust, and soon a fog covers your mind. Despite your unending descent, you close your eyes and embrace the calm washing over you in waves. Of your own volition, you forget.

After all, the knowledge of one's eternal damnation is enough to destroy even the strongest mind.

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felassanis · 3 years

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Beauty Laid Bare - Solavellan

Lavellan remembers her old clan during an intimate moment with Solas. Remembering her dreams and the way the Dalish shaped her life as a Half-Elf. As the truth is revealed to her, Solas pulls back the curtain on her childhood. And she realises her worth isn't dependent on her Blood-writing...

Words: 1,166 | AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34237195

In dreams she walks the overgrown path from a castle nestled in the mountains to the Dalish encampment tucked away in the Ferelden woodlands. Where stone was once flat against her heels, grass now sits in between her toes. Markets and soldiers are but figments of a vague imagination as juniper broth bubbles above the campfire. Halla graze in their pens under a blooming sun and her Keeper reads silently in her chair. Watching the little ones pluck their pretend bows and the women braid the men’s hair.

Leilani was surrounded by painted faces. Their vallaslin was made up of intricate patterns and mesmerizing details. But in a camp busy with elves, she feels alone. Hiding herself away up in the trees with one leg swinging side to side. Watching the Dalish down below go about their lives.

She felt bare and naked, like a cat without claws. A wolf without teeth. A bear with no bite. Unworthy of surrounding herself with so many beautiful elves when her face was pale and bland. But that day, when the morning air was crisp and elfroot was beginning to grow numerous. She felt no need to hide herself. Because that day, the Keeper ushered her for her blood-writing at long last.

She picked the most complex of the blood writing. One that worshipped Elgar’nan, the All-Father. It would take the entire day to be etched across her features, and it was a gruelling painful action. But she did not care. She wanted to mask the non-elven features with the pride of the All-Father. To burn the wrath of the sun onto her freckles and around her smaller eyes.

And it did burn. Her nails dug bloody crescents in her palms and she chewed on a piece of wood. But she stayed silent throughout the process. As was expected.

She remembers how her heart swelled when the other Dalish smiled at her. Their toothy grins no longer barely masking malice. And the elders no longer poked at her cheeks and wished her eyes were bigger. Instead they remarked on how proud she looked with the All-Father’s patterned kiss. Oh, how giddy she was when her reflection stared back in the wading waters of the river. And she could no longer recognise the little half-elf in her. Elgar’nan’s markings eclipsed the left side of her face in its brilliant green glory. Twiry vines shrouding the right that showed little hints of her flesh…

Leilani was eager to carry her pride throughout her life. That was until he took her to that soggy grove deep in Crestwood. Told her truths the Fade had revealed to him. She felt marred and tricked as his steely eyes glazed over what were really slave markings.

How could the Dalish have forgotten? Why was so much that she had been taught to hold dear, hiding half-truths and dirty secrets?

When he offered her that choice, to have it pried from her face like breaking iron shackles. She thought about what the Dalish would do. What their hearts would tell them. The people, her people, vowed to never submit to slavery.

Magic blooms around her as she sits beside her lover. His fingers move in silent rhythm, working faint magic that feels cool against her skin as Elgar’nan comes away from her face. And for the first time in her life, she feels…

“You are so beautiful,” Solas says. Barely above a whisper. She wonders if he had sensed her apprehension. That nagging doubt always in the back of her head.

For a moment when the Vallaslin peeled away. The word Shem rang like church bells in her mind. But it all disappears when he touches her cheek and tells her his truth. And for the first time in her life, she believes it.

Appearances were hardly everything. And yet a small drop of anger falls into a pool in her heart. The ripples bring forth memories of a little girl bringing a knife to her ears because her clan told her they were not sharp enough. She still has the scars of a young elf wanting to mould and shape her face forcefully. It is like Solas has drawn back the curtains on her life. It is a horrific, cruel truth to be exposed to. But Leilani realises the advantages to a cold truth rather than a comforting lie. Her clan didn’t want the best for her...they just wanted to pretend she didn’t have a human father out there somewhere.

For him to make her see the truth. To make her feel comfortable and loved afterwards…to see not a runt of a Shem, but her, Leilani Lavellan...it meant everything.

He takes her face in his hands. Fingers smoothing along her cheek bones as his thumbs stroke underneath her eyes. Like he was truly feeling her soft skin for the first time. She feels bare beneath his stare...but not in a bad way. There is no nagging feeling that she is missing something. That some part of her had gotten away. Maybe she is a Shem now...perhaps she is both a Shem and an Elf. Certainly to Solas, she is beautiful. And that’s all she cares about.

“I mean it,” He says again.

“Do you?” Leilani knows he sees the invitation in her eyes when he licks his lips. But doesn’t wait for him to take her invitation. She leans forward suddenly. Pressing their lips together as his fingers find their way to her neck. Pressing that exact spot that has her leaning even more into him.

Solas is always gentle, even in moments like these where she wishes he wasn’t. Maybe it's the confidence he has ignited in her for the first time in her life, but she nips at his bottom lip. Daring him. Teasing him and pushing him to his limit.

“Where’ve you been all my life, ma vhenan?” She whispers against his eager lips. The Elven language had always sounded so awkward to her ears when she spoke it. Like trying to recite the spells in the Keeper’s bulky spellbook from memory. But Solas didn’t seem to mind, he understood her perfectly despite her imperfection. And she felt comfortable in her shaky utterances when around him.

He answers in elvish; a string of words unknown to her. But she didn’t have to, their rhythm which permeates from the lovely rumble of his throat tells her he feels the same way. He resumes the kiss, she nips at him again. His fingers press into the nape of her neck, arching her head upwards so he may kiss her harder. He sighs beautifully into her mouth when she snakes her hand up his stomach, and she takes it in lovingly like air. The taste of him on her tongue and his sweet inhales ignites a warmth in her stomach.

Suddenly, Solas pulls away. Giving her a look she’s never seen on him before as she looks dazed and confused….

#Solas #Solavellan #lavellan #Leilani Lavellan #DA3 #Dragon age 3 #Dalish #dragon age inquisition #Solas fic #Solavellan fic #fanfic

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eryiss · 3 years

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Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hi everyone. Get ready for things to hot up, and for them to take a pretty big step. Just a warning, the first part of this chapter has a sex dream. It’s not overly graphic, but it’s there.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Six - Dream, Reality

Day Five: Friday

Freed had been reading, he thought, but he didn't care to remember. The situation was much more interesting.

He was lounging on one of the sofas in his study, a glass of port to his right, and his fireplace flickering before him. It was night, he thought, and there was the heavy pattering of a rainstorm on the roof. This would all be par for the course, if it weren't for the fact Gajeel Redfox was curled up on the sofa, his head resting in Freed's lap as if a cat curling up for warmth. Even more peculiar was how Freed found his hand carding through Gajeel's hair, and felt an odd sense of utter contentment in the entire situation.

Gajeel looked softer, now. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep. Just relaxing. Freed had never thought of Gajeel as a man who could relax, as ridiculous as that sounded. Gajeel always seemed like he had some kind of a facade up - one where he was slightly exaggerating the toughness while downplaying the emotional side - and as such never could fully shut his mind off.

It warmed Freed to know Gajeel trusted him enough to be like this around him.

Why did he trust Freed enough to be like this around him?

Why was he lying with his head in Freed's lap?

When had they even gotten into his study?

Before the questions could really hit him, Freed realised Gajeel was talking. The words weren't exactly words, but more a deep grumbling, tired and hoarse, that sent a pleasant chill down Freed's spine. Though he couldn't decipher the words, Freed instinctively knew the meaning behind them. He was talking more about Draconic culture, retelling the stories and folklore that his father had gifted to him in his childhood. It was a private thing, something Gajeel would only let himself talk about with someone he truly cared for.

Freed's hand was still stroking through Gajeel's shockingly silky hair, scratching his scalp every once in a while to get Gajeel to grin. The other man was a darling when he was like this, and in an odd way it made Freed find his more manic, rough-edged side more enticing. Gajeel was a man who could use his fists to get out of most situations, but he was a hell of a lot more than that.

"What 'cha thinkin' about, pretty-boy?" Gajeel's words were clear now, and Freed smiled about the term of endearment.

He knew that nicknames were something important to Gajeel, Freed was beginning to understand that. While they could just seem like terms of endearments, or insults depending on the recipient, they were perhaps more than that. They were an encapsulation of who Gajeel thought you were, and while Freed suspected Gajeel thought more of him than his looks, the nickname still made him smile. The initial nickname of City-Boy had been meant to demean him, whereas the slip up of Pretty-Boy was more of a compliment.

The tides of their relationship were changing now, and Freed couldn't help but feel flattered and excited by that. Gajeel, now that he could think objectively about him, was a man who could hold a lot of potential for Freed. Every time he thought of Gajeel's history lesson about his culture, something inside Freed burned with anticipation.

Gajeel and him could be something interesting. Something new.

It didn't answer how they'd gotten into this situation.

Pushing himself up, Gajeel was now eye level with Freed. His intoxicatingly red eyes ensnared Freed, and the grin of delightfully sharp teeth held a promise of excitement. Gajeel leant forward, twisting so he was on all fours and trapping Freed in place on the sofa. He leant in so close that Freed could feel his breath on his lips.

"Let's take yer mind off things," Gajeel promised.

Gajeel all but pounced onto Freed, knocking him back. The world seemed to swirl and distort around them, and in the blink of an eye Freed had left his study and they were both in the forest clearing again. Freed was splayed out on his back, Gajeel pinning his hands above his head. Gajeel's clothes were gone now, as were Freed's, and the cold damp stone below him made him shiver with anticipation.

This was a dream, Freed realised. Hardly an innocent dream, though.

Leaning further down, Gajeel's teeth were biting and nibbling at Freed's neck, sucking and marking him without restraint. Freed groaned quietly, and Gajeel laughed a little in his ear. He began to pepper light kisses over Freed's jaw, landing the final kiss to the left of his lips.

"Yer mine, pretty-boy," Gajeel murmured, voice like seductive honey. "And you ain't getting away."

"I didn't intend on leaving," Freed heard himself saying, and he could see Gajeel's eyes sparkling. "But, let me correct you Gajeel. I am not yours. But you are mine."

Freed wrapped his legs tight around Gajeel's - the rubbing of their cocks together made them both moan - but then flipped them over. Gajeel was pushed onto his own back with Freed straddling his hips. It was a reflection of how they'd been when wrestling in the forest, but this felt different. Whereas their fight had been charged with anger and resentment, this was fuelled by lust. They were two men in the depths of passion, with the world extending only to one another.

Gajeel looked up at Freed with an expression he could only describe as horny, and Freed relished the sight. He leant down and began peppering light kisses on the man's muscular body, smirking with a little cruelty as he bit Gajeel's nipple and made him groan.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" He teased, and Gajeel glared.

"Fuckin bit me," Gajeel grunted. "I'll get ya back for that."

Freed grinned, and smirked at Gajeel when his kisses went lower and lower, down the centre of his rippling stomach muscles. Gajeel groaned again, running his hands over Freed's body. The rough calluses seemed to glide over Freed's near-unblemished stomach and chest, teasing and kneading at his muscles.

He suddenly pulled Freed down, and their strong bodies ran against one another. Freed smirked at Gajeel and began to bite at the man's skin again, loving the slight taste of metal that the man held.

"Fuck," Gajeel panted, and Freed smirked. "Yer right, I'm yours."

"As if it were in doubt," Freed chuckled, running his hand from Gajeel's chest to his abs to his dick.

He grabbed both of their members and started to stroke them, thrusting his body to rub against Gajeel's abs. Gajeel groaned and moaned, and Freed felt fire coursing through him as the sudden fury of an orgasm rocked him. Gajeel seemed to notice, and smirked up at him with a beautifully cocky look. He knew what was going to happen, and he knew he was to blame.

Fuck, it was going to happen. So close. So damn close-

Then he woke up.

He was in his bed, panting and sweating under the sheets. His head swam in confusion for a moment, and he blinked himself open. It was earlier in the morning than he normally would be awake in, and the sensation was confusing for a moment. That quickly gave way to a horrid flush of embarrassment at what his dream had been. There was something twisted about dreaming about a man he barely knew, and had spent the better part of a week quarreling, in such a depraved way. It was worse still given how Freed's subconscious had wanted to fuck in the same place they had hated one another.

Should he do something about it, though? Gajeel was undoubtedly a gorgeous man in every sense of the word. Freed could admit a broad chested man with piercings was a turn on, albeit a turn on that was new to Freed. But they were barely getting along as colleagues, let alone even friends.

No, he would just have to ignore this. A cold shower and a morning run would settle his mind and put his head on straight.

——

"Gods dammit," Gajeel grunted, and Freed winced a little as the other man pushed himself off from the ground. "You sure you ain't S-Class with shit like this?"

The two men were in Freed's expansive backyard, surrounded by a ring of fire. Their training exercise of the day had been to have them fight side-by-side against a common enemy. Rather than having another mage come and fight against them, Freed had decided to use another aspect of his simulation runes to create what he called a Mimic. It was a being made up of runes, meant to simulate an opponent. Freed had fueled it with the magic and techniques of their guildmates, and had instructed it to try and beat them in a fight.

More than anything, it was a distraction. After the dream - and Gajeel's slip of the tongue the night before, which had sent a wave of delighted warmth through Freed's heart - Freed needed to refocus his attention. They were here to train, that's all.

"How the hell d'ya have enough magic to have that thing so powerful while yer fighting like normal?" Gajeel asked, panting as he faced the mimic.

"I have an excess of magical energy this time of year," Freed explained, flicking away the few droplets of blood that were dripping down his arms onto his hands. "It's best to use it rather than allow it to linger."

Gajeel nodded, seemingly understanding why Freed had magic and why he shouldn't have any excess magic around him.

The mimic was walking towards them both slowly: a wireframe made of runes. It made a gesture with its hand and suddenly a torrent of Max's sand shot up, a whirlwind of a sandstorm. Freed quick-casted two walls of runes to protect them both, gritting his teeth slightly as his magic took a hammering of relentless sand. It was difficult to see through the miasma of sand, and Freed squinted slightly to see where the mimic was standing.

Suddenly, Gajeel was standing in front of him, body made of metal again. His arms crossed before him, Freed heard a sickly sounding clash of metal on metal. When Gajeel jumped back, Freed saw that a runic replica of one of Erza's swords had been flung towards him, cutting through the runes that had only been meant to protect them from the sand.

"Thanks," Freed panted. "How did you see it?"

"Heard it," Gajeel explained, closing his eyes and clearly focusing on his other senses. "He's to the left of us, I think. Using Juvia's magic."

The torrent of water slammed into them both before either man had time to react, and Freed grunted as he was pushed to the back of the circle of fire. Gajeel washed up beside him, as soaked to the bone as Freed was, coughing up magically made water. Freed was on his feet first, as Gajeel had taken the brunt of the attack. When he saw the mimic getting closer while Gajeel was recovering, Freed pulled out his sword and brandished it before him.

Borrowing transformation from either Elman or perhaps Pantherlilly, the runic man grew into an imposing figure of unnatural muscles. It lurched towards Freed with a monstrously large fist, aiming for Freed's head in a cruel punch.

For a moment, Freed could do nothing but parry the onslaught of blows. His sword swung quickly through the air, blocking every punch, kick and attempted bite from the runic creature. The speed of the blows were so fast and relentless that Freed didn't have the chance to land a counter attack, and he grit his teeth as he glanced over his shoulder and towards where Gajeel had been. He was no longer there, and Freed had to hope he was readying for an attack.

The next second, a metal fist slammed into the mimic's stomach, knocking it back a few feet.

"You okay?" Freed asked when Gajeel stood beside him again.

"Just winded," Gajeel explained, iron creeping over his body entirely now. "You?"

"Fine," Freed stated, though his arms were aching slightly now.

They both looked at the mimic, which was standing still. The wireframe of runes was inhumanely looking at them, and Freed knew that it was calculating their next steps. A moment later, lightning seemed to be gathering over the mimic's hands, crawling up its body in the same way Laxus' lightning would moments before he would use his dragon's roar. Freed's eyes widened a little - he had given the mimic too much of his magical energy if it could use dragon slayer magic - and he quickly realised that he didn't have time to write the lighting repellent runes on them both.

"Shit," Gajeel murmured, looking at the ground. "The water."

Freed looked down at the puddle of water below them, and then realised the plan the mimic had. Before he could think, he cast his wings and began to fly, hooking his arms around Gajeel's waist and forcing them both off the ground. The lighting magic shot from the mimic, sparks covering the pools of water on the ground.

Undeterred, the mimic began a new onslaught. Using Laki's magic now, wooden projectiles shot out towards them both, attempting to loosen Freed's grip on Gajeel to make him fall. Gajeel began to punch the projectiles, destroying them on contact.

"You've gotten rid of it before, right?" Gajeel asked between punches. "How?"

"I've not actually beaten it yet," Freed confessed, and Gajeel shifted to look towards him incredulously. Freed quickly shunted them both down when a wooden beam flew towards them. He landed them both on a dry patch of ground, before speaking again. "I treat it more like a punching bag than an opponent. Hit it as much as my body allows before dispelling it."

"Fuck that," Gajeel said firmly, rolling his shoulders back and straightening his back. Freed swallowed a little at the sight, his mind flickering back to the dream for just a moment. "It's a spell. Spells can be beaten, and I'm not giving up against that fucking thing."

"Quite right," Freed agreed. His runes were not going to defeat him.

"I say we fucking plaster it with magic," Gajeel suggested, rolling his sleeve up in a show of determination. It was an attractive look. "We both use our most powerful spells on it at the same time, we'll kill the fucking thing."

"Sounds good," Freed nodded, raising his sword. "Ready when you are."

"Iron Dragon's Roar!" Gajeel bellowed at the same time as Freed allowed his most pain filled runes to flow out of him.

Suddenly, Freed was on a high.

Everything about the spell felt different. Like his body was alight with a level of power that he hadn't ever felt before. His blood was burning, his magical energy exploding, his soul flipping and roaring in delight. The magic seemed to be fighting to leave him as if bending to his will more than it ever had before. The power felt lighter than normal, but so much more powerful. Every aspect of the spell felt like it belonged to him and him alone.

He seemed to almost leave his own body as he watched his runes flow forward. They spiralled into Gajeel's roar, merging and coagulating with the Dragon slayer magic. Freed's body felt cold as if pressed against metal, and it was a euphoric feeling.

Gods, what was happening. It was amazing.

Tendrils of runes shot forward and wrapped around the mimic, trapping his limbs as if in bondage. The pain spells seemed to ignite, and the mimic thrashed like any person would under the intense agony Freed's runes would cause. It was then that the dragon's roar hit the bound mimic, and the flurry of iron and magic slammed into it like a relentless torrent of power.

The mimic was ripped apart, disintegrating in the overwhelming magical power. The remaining fire, water and wood dissipated as the mimic died away, leaving Freed and Gajeel alone.

Had they just… Had that been a…

"Holy shit," Gajeel sounded giddy. "Holy fucking shit! We did a fuckin' Unison Raid!"

"Yes," Freed gasped. "I think we did."

"Damn," Gajeel was looking at him with an elated smile, still covered in iron. "I ain't ever done anything like that. Holy shit, that felt so fuckin' good right. Fuck, I feel like I could take down anything right now, y'know what I mean?"

"I do," Freed agreed, and couldn't help but smile at Gajeel.

But this didn't make sense. Unison raids were meant to be a combination of magic between people who had a deep, innately personal connection. So far, all Freed had felt about Gajeel was a mess of confusion. Sometimes he hated the man, and sometimes he had an odd lust for him. So either his magic seemed to know something he did not, or he simply misunderstood how unison raids worked.

"We're gonna kick ass in the tournament," Gajeel smirked, looking to Freed again. His smile faltered a little, and his gaze went slightly to the side. Freed frowned when Gajeel let out a small, "Huh."

"What's wrong?" Freed asked.

"Well, don't get pissy," Gajeel said, voice fighting back amusement and a smile trying to break out again. "But, looks like I kinda left you a reminder of what's happened."

Freed frowned further, and Gajeel slowly brought a metallic hand. It looked as though he was going to cup Freed's cheek for a moment, but then his hand turned into a solid slab of metal. It took Freed a moment to realise he was meant to use the metal as a mirror, and looked at the reflection that Gajeel was offering him. He immediately saw what Gajeel had meant.

During their unison raid, Gajeel had somehow pierced Freed.

On his right ear, five small metal rings, all bullet-grey, had been infused into his ear. Small barbels had been placed on the inside of both of his eyebrows, sharp and unobtrusive. He couldn't feel them at all, and Freed gently ran a finger over them all, a tingling shiver going down him at the feeling. There was a complete and undeniable sensation of rightness to Gajeel's metal being part of him. It was like he belonged as a part of him.

The dream came to mind again, with Gajeel pinning him down and claiming Freed as his own. It was a coincidence, of course, but Freed couldn't help but flush. It felt like he had been claimed.

He should have protested, but instead whispered, "Wow."

"You ain't mad, right?" Gajeel asked.

"No," Freed said immediately. "A little shocked, perhaps. But, well, they look rather good, I think."

"They look fucking hot," Gajeel whispered, and Freed didn't know if he was meant to hear it, so said nothing. The sound of Gajeel's iron turning back to skin filled the silence, and when Freed looked towards him, he paused. Gajeel noticed. "What's wrong, City-Boy?"

"Well," Freed spoke before he could feel disappointed about the return of the nickname. "It appears my magic reciprocated your iron's ideas."

Gajeel's exposed arm was covered in black runes that looked indistinguishable from a tattoo. It covered his right arm entirely, and Gajeel was looking down at the foreign lettering with an overly wide and overly excited smile. He seemed enamoured with the change to his body, and Freed wondered how he might react if he knew what the writing said.

'Ownership.'

Dammit, Freed's magic had essentially laid claim to Gajeel. Of course, 'ownership' was a rough translation, and the actual meaning was a term of endearment. But that was worse! Freed had not only claimed the man, but essentially written something akin to 'My one and only.' Nobody would know, of course, but it didn't change the fact he had done it.

"Yer panicking," Gajeel chuckled. "Don't worry about it. Wanted some ink for a while, you just saved me some jewels."

"You should be angry about this," Freed frowned. "Why aren't you?"

"You should be angry about the piercings, because they're not the type you can remove," Gajeel shrugged. "Why aren't you pissed?"

"Because," Freed began, and sighed. He should be honest about this. "Because having them feels right."

"So does this," Gajeel looked to his arm, grinning slightly. "Feels like I've been missing somethin', kinda. Like I've finally found my style and this completes it."

Freed felt the same, but couldn't say it. Instead, he said, "Why were we able to perform a unison raid? People with connections much deeper than our's have tried and failed. It doesn't make sense."

"Does it matter?" Gajeel shrugged, and Freed stared incredulously because of course it did. When Gajeel looked back to Freed, he seemed to have reached an epiphany that Freed would love to know. "Look, I get why you're feelin' fucked up about it, but there's no point. This week, we were both pretty determined to hate each other and piss each other off, right?"

"Yes, I suppose we were."

"That didn't fuckin' last, right?" Gajeel shrugged. "We were compelled to hate each other by a demon, and we got over it. When we were solvin' puzzles and stopped thinkin' about what we thought of each other, we were a pretty good team. When we had a common enemy, we did a fuckin' unison raid."

"What's your point?" Freed asked, frowning.

"When we get out of our heads, we work out. So why don't we stop fucking thinking about this shit," Gajeel shrugged. "Maybe we take things as they come. We work well together even after we pissed each other off, so why not just accept that? Our magics work together, let's use that to our advantage," Then he looked away, a little bashful. "Seems to me, we're a good team by nature. So why not just let it happen?"

"And the markings?"

"We don't think," Gajeel blushed. "And we see what happens."

When Gajeel looked back at Freed, he had a small, shy smile. It was honest, and Freed felt breathless.

See what happens? He could do that.

#gajeed #freedjeel #freed x gajeel #freed justine #gajeel redfox #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #canon divergence #multi chapter #chapter Six #Word Count: 3.7k

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tartareus · 4 years

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the way fiona is painfully touch starved and it not only shows but also affects her dynamics with the people in her life is just </3 i’m cry, here’s a little something that has been on my mind for a while....

for starters, in all her independence and selfishness, fiona is - deep ( and when i say deep i’m talking about centre of the earth kind of deep here folks), deep down - lonely and scared. now, different people react in different ways when in fear - some cower, others run; fiona is like a wounded beast, baring her teeth to anyone who gets too close when she’s licking her wounds.

her fear ( of aging, of dying, of losing cordelia, of losing her title, of never being respected nor loved again, it’s a long list even though she will never admit it ) does not incapacitate her, quite the opposite really. fiona's fear propels her to do something, forces to move forward even when against the tide.

i have yet to finish off my hcs about her parents but one thing i can point out now is that fiona did not get enough love growing up, much less displays of affection from her parents. while her mother was never an ounce as horrible as fiona herself was to cordelia, she certainly lacked at comforting fiona and making her feel safe. as to her father, always too busy at the hawthorne school to spare much of his attention on her, spoiled her rotten with gifts.

the family’s calico cat was probably the only companion for a long while - that is, in her early childhood before joining the academy - it’s not surprising that she grew up to be an individual who has one hell of a hard time showing affections; after her death of her mother, when she was taken to the academy to start her training and pretty much ever since that the only one she could truly trust and count on was herself and in her growing powers.

this is one of the many reasons why she does not like to be seen or touched ( no matter how kindly ) as if she were weak. it’s a big deal of pride mixed with uncertainty - of not being able to put her own safety at the hands of another, even if the other ( and, in this case, marie - who is pretty much the only one who even offers her any form of comfort/steady safe embrace even if only to keep her from collapsing ) is trying to help her.

she grew so used to using her looks, and touches as a way to seduce people to get what she wants that, when it comes to something honest fiona finds herself at loss of how to go from there. take for instance the touches she exchanges with the axeman. they are sexual because obviously she is in a sexual relationship with him for a time.

while it is nothing rooted in love or genuinely romantic ( she fell in love with the idea of being in love and being, truly, loved in return; she likes the axeman, but she loves how he makes her feel more than she could ever care for him. it’s the adoration he gave her when she was at her lowest, the distraction from all the troubles and fears and, of course, the orgasms, she loved those too but we’re not going to hold that against her - considering she might have had those with only few of her partners in life, specially when one notes that she has majoritarily been with men. ) she still clinges to him,

as she clinges to all others she tries to connect with - regardless the way she wants to do it, if it’s friendly, familial or romantic - in a way betraying her own mask of indiference to the ones around her for she doesn’t want them to leave her, dreads at the thought of being alone, even when she treats them badly - and she does, awfully a lot.

the fact that she constantly has a secret agenda alligned to touching is also something to note, it blurs even more the lines and ends up making whatever attempt to do so honestly fall flat. amongst other things, frustration comes to her often and then, of course, there’s aggresion ( not only in her own self destructive path of booze and drugs, even when she’s ill and fragile) also turned to others.

worst of all when it’s turned to her daughter, who shares a complicated bond with her. she loves her child, truly does so, but hates being a mother - always has. it never sat right with her and it never felt like these shoes belonged to her, like she deserved this. not to mention that, after delia’s birth it felt as if a part of fiona had just died, which pushed her even closed to the postpartum depression phase she went through, perhaps there was a plausible reason to why supremes usually never had kids, or perhaps it’s fiona’s fucked up ways that drove her to be such awful mother, whatever it is has left a mark not only on cordelia but on herself too.

when cordelia comes back from the hospital - after she and fiona had been trying to reconnect over drinks - fiona is seen clutching one of cordelia’s clothes, visibly anguished and, to her own surprise, in pain. it’s a similar pain she felt in the hospital, hours after hours in that uncomfortable chair waiting for delia return. it’s not just the physical pain of her disease eating her away that drives her to steal some painkillers, it’s the emotional pain of almost losing a child, part of herself in a way, that she never thought she loved that much - her mental state is alluded by the erratic flickering lights and her encounter with the young mother whose baby died shortly after the birth.

the pain she feels for her daughter is something secretive and reserved to moments of weakness where nobody is around to witness and she can convince herself that they were nothing but her illness making her soft. a passing thing. still, she tries approaching her daughter - even more so after the truth about hank’s cheating is revealed - only to find out that by doing so she just might get her ass on the line. she recoils slightly, frowning and instantly regretting her moment of weakness and decides to avoid touching cordelia for her own self preservation within the coven.

fiona eventually leaves her, gingerly saying she’ll get delphine to help her daughter. her own words about cordelia ring on her ears: delia is a survivor. we later see that fiona does not seem to be able to detach herself from the situation as much as she wanted to - if anything, the way she brought back that baby to life in the hospital and how she aids marie to keep the baby that was meant to papa ( of course with her own hidden agenda of wanting to offer a soul to him to get on his good side ), fiona’s own lack of touch when it comes to maternal matters does not stop her from wanting to avoid other kids from being abandoned. in both cases, by giving the change to keep the kids, fiona is giving another shot a motherhood - not directly, obviously, but it’s as close as it will ever get.

we eventually see that fiona begins to wear gloves to avoid unnecessary drama ( aka delia finding out even more of the dark shit she's been up to both lately and in the past ) and is visibly relieved once she finds cordelia’s sight restored - even if it had been myrtle, back from the stake no less, who had done it. in that fickle moment we can see the softness in her eyes and demeanour, as if she can breath again.

obviously, realising that she truly does care for her own child is nothing that redeems fiona, but it’s an interesting layer to her character - how conflicted she is with her own feelings. we get a slight glimpse that perhaps things were not so different with fiona and her own mother. later, when fiona finds out in horror what cordelia has done to herself to get her second sight back, the two share another heart to heart moment, but that obviously ends up going downhill (and fiona does note how odd her daughter acts at the time) when the sight is not only restored but shows glimpses of a possible future, one where fiona has killed them all.

including cordelia.

now, i do think part of the vision was reflecting cordelia’s own fear of her mother manifesting itself - zoe did end up dying in the very same way she did in the vision, but fiona had little to do with it. queenie herself, after fiona had just killed madison and beheaded the bastien/the minotaur, had her life saved by fiona.

even though fiona was under the impression that the next supreme was gone, using the vitalum vitalis to get queenie's soul back before it went to the afterlife was a risky move, considering that this wonder, unlike resurgence, uses the witch's very own life force. normally a supreme would not faint afterwards, but being with her own health and powers beginning wane, fiona feels the harsh effect of it a couple of minutes later, when she’s in her room and sends delphine away. she held herself against the wall to get there when she could have asked cordelia to help her or even delphine, and the way i see it that she didn’t ask for help for the very same reason why she declined marie’s steady embrace at first some time later: fiona hates to be weak, to feel useless and powerless and, worst of all, to be seen in a weakened, fragile state. she wants to keep the image she has painted of herself ever since she rose to the throne: of being invincible and in control of everything and everyone.

by being the biggest source of danger they have to worry about, she finds a way to protect them, or at least distract them, from the real danger that lies just outside their doors, a danger that only few of them would be able to handle: witch hunters. because, let’s be honest even though fiona was a hazard in high heels to the coven, they were slightly safer with her on their side than against her.

while i honestly don’t think fiona was really up to kill all of them witches when she sent the axeman there to be killed there, i cannot claim she did it with pure intentions. sure, she did it to find the next supreme while she gathered strength to face her, whoever she might have been, but having a secret agenda doesn’t exclude the real thing here. she wanted out. out of the coven’s responsability of finding her replacement ( to her, it felt as if they were burying her before she had even died ) and out of the potentially dangerous relationship she had with the man.

which eventually proved to be a smart move (well, not for long though lmao) considering how the touches they exchanged were either sexual or violent, even though the little spit trick she did on him was nothing but false memories, there’s no denying that she knew his violent nature could get to her one day. she knew he was just as awful as she was.

perhaps worse than fiona, if that little hint of her knotty pine hell was anything to go by, she was going to spend the rest of eternity not in hellfire and damnation but with a former lover’s hands on her as she’s at the mercy of all his violence and lechery. while there’s something incredibly ironic about this awful situation. her hell seems, at first, his paradise but, the longer they stay like this, with her forgetting the previous days and only having him and dull aches on her body to warn her of whatever the hell has happened in the previous day, the faster he will realise she never loved him, and never will. he will be stuck with someone he loves but that could not love him back for the life of her.

before all that happens though, we get to see fiona and cordelia meet one last time. even though it would never explain how awful she was, we get to see that to a big extent what fiona had wanted was to protect cordelia, keep her safe but, above anything else she wanted cordelia to be strong enough to stand on her own, to survive and bite back. which cordelia did, on her own and beautifully so. when she does grow a backbone, as she ascends as supreme that is, is when fiona feels at ease, as if her job ( the most important one, and the one she has forsaken for years ) is complete. cordelia no longer needs her, or myrtle or whatever maternal figure she can find. this time she hugs cordelia, clutches to her not as if her lie depended on it, but as if cordelia’s did. with her out of the picture, her daughter’s powers would fully bloom into what they should be once for all && fiona’s sorry for whoever dares to touch this coven again.

she’s not longer the scared little girl fiona dropped off at the academy decades ago, she’s the fucking supreme now.

she can handle it.

#hey look at what i did instead of writing :D #this got longer than i expected but oh well #m; f. goode \ hcs #m; f. goode \ relationships: cordelia #m; f. goode \ relationships: the coven #m; f. goode \ relationships: axeman #m; f. goode \ relationships: marie #tw; death #tw; violence #tw; abuse #tw; terminal illness mention #tldr; fiona is messed up and touch starved; she loves her family more than she lets it show

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readyplayerhobi · 6 years

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Big Bad Wolf

; Wolf Shifter!Hoseok x Rabbit Shifter!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut, teeny tiny angst

; Word Count: 11.7k

; Warnings: Possessive behaviour, dom!Hobi, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, thigh riding, impregnation kink, breeding kink, sex toy use, biting,

; Synopsis: It’s been months since Hoseok marked you in the frenzy of his heat, and he’s been content and happy with you ever since. But with the stress of college ending and the fact the bond remains uncompleted, what happens when you go into your own heat?

; Wolf Shifter Hoseok Trilogy

Run Little Rabbit

Daddy’s Little Peanut

Big Bad Wolf

; RLR Drabbles

Choices

Concerns

Hoseok enjoyed holding your hand. Maybe it wasn’t something that an Alpha wolf like himself should admit to, but he was confident enough in himself that he would happily own his little moments of happiness. Holding your hand was like when he took a deep breath of forest air. Relaxing and comforting.

Which was why he always held it whenever he could, letting his fingers brush against yours slowly before he maneuvered his own into position, interlinking them with yours. If you were both sitting on the couch, or laying on his bed, he’d idly let his thumb rub the soft skin on the back of your hand, tiny thrills of euphoria sparking through him while his wolf huffed with contentment.

He was holding your hand right now, and it felt wonderful and grounding. Particularly when his life didn’t feel very grounded lately. College was ending and with it had come his final exams. Not only that, but he had the worry of his Pack leadership looming over his head and the silent panic over the fact you hadn’t completed the bond yet, nor had you given an indication of whether you would.

It was getting to be a little too much for him, and Hoseok wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Alpha’s were the wolves the rest of the Pack came to with their worries and stresses. But then, who did the Alpha go to when they were equally stressed?

He couldn’t vocalise his worry about the bond to you, as he was anxious that it would seem like he was pressuring you. Something as long term and permanent as a mating bond was not something to be pressured, and he would never forgive himself if you gave in to him just because you thought it was what he wanted.

But the other subjects? Well, he’d finally reached his limit and was currently spewing them out to you in a fit of tension and catharsis. He’d picked you up from your room before you’d both headed over to your favourite coffee shop, ordering a caramel macchiato for you and a cappuccino for himself.

He hadn’t admitted to you that this was his third in only an hour and a half, which was probably why he’d immediately dragged you out for a walk and also couldn’t stop talking. Honestly, Hoseok knew better than to drink too much caffeine, it drove his wolf wild.

“Hoseok...Hoseok, sweetheart. Stop,” You pull him to a stop, tugging on his hand lightly until his feet finally stop and he’s looking back at you with uncomfortable eyes. Your stature was so much smaller than his, reflecting the tiny and delicate rabbit that you shifted into and it made him want to growl with protectiveness.

Just wrap you up in his arms and protect you from harm or anyone who might want to hurt you. Like that cheetah guy who was walking along the path towards you, long legs eating up the ground while red Beats headphones adorn his blonde and black hair. Immediately, Hoseok is glaring as the hair on his neck stands on end, his inner wolf puffing up and growling.

He doesn’t even realise that his throat is vibrating with the growls from his chest, nor of the waves of dominant energy that are rolling off him. The cheetah guy stops suddenly, nose twitching before he looks up, eyes that are shifted golden widening at the sight of the pissed off Alpha wolf in front of him.

He glances behind him before taking a few steps back, turning on the spot and heading back the way he’d come. Looking back at you, he frowns as he takes in the way your shoulders hunch together and your arms wrap around your waist, eyes wide.

For months now, you’ve had his mark on your neck which has in turn meant you have slowly become less panicked about his dominant displays. You still freak over them, particularly if he’s angry, but you’re a lot less afraid than you had been. If you chose to complete the bond, then over the years you’d truly become almost immune to him.

Until then, he had to watch with a sinking heart as you shrank back from him slightly. Sighing deeply, he reaches out and wraps his arms around your shoulders, tugging you into a gentle hug as he makes sure to keep your hair out of his cup, taking in the scent of you deeply and sighing with satisfaction.

“Thumper, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He murmurs into the soft strands, nose nuzzling you unintentionally as his wolf whines quietly, demanding he make his mate happy again. You’re frozen for a moment before your arms wrap around his lean waist, head resting against his chest and he has to swallow the noise of gratification he wants to let out.

“Why did you get angry at that guy? He wasn’t even doing anything.” You ask, pulling away before taking his hand again and moving him along. Your pace is much slower now but he just enjoys the moment, the warm fuzziness running through his veins at being near you.

Or maybe that was the caffeine. Who knows?

Chewing his lip for a moment, he takes another swallow of warm cappuccino before throwing the empty cup into the next bin he sees. He takes a deep, fortifying breath before he can get the words out. But he has to. You’re his mate, you’ll understand.

“I’m a little...stressed. About exams. And after college,” Hoseok pauses for a moment, letting the air fill with comfortable silence as he swings your arm slowly. “I got an offer from the Alliance of Wolves last week. They want me to take over the pack at Mancita City. Apparently the pack Alpha died there three months ago and they’ve gone without. I just...don’t know if I should...or if I can.” He practically mumbles out that, trying to ignore the way his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

You let out a tiny breath, your fingers tightening around his before you’re easing him to a stop once more. He looks down at you, running a hand through his hair before moving to stroke a finger down your cheek gently. You give him the sweetest smile and he wants so badly to kiss you.

“Okay, first of all. You’ve been studying really hard and you’re crazy smart, you’ll do great in your exams. Secondly, you’ll be a great Packmaster at Mancita City! That’s like...a huge honour right? And so young!” Your bright smile makes him feel lighter than air, his stomach fizzing slightly as he presses his lips together to stop a responding smile.

“It is but...I’d have to offer Pack membership to everyone here. They’re all pretty much graduating with us as well, but what if they don’t want to go? I mean...they might want to move somewhere else and join a different Pack. And what if I’m not good at it?” He spies a bench and pulls you over to it, sitting down before pulling you into his lap despite all the space on the iron rungs.

You scoff lightly, rolling your eyes before your fingers begin to trail through his hair lazily. He has to grit his teeth slightly to stop himself from almost purring like a damn cat shifter. “Jung Hoseok, what exactly do you mean when you think you won’t be a good leader? You’re a damn good Alpha here, even if you do scare me more than a xenomorph sometimes.”

He scowls at that, leaning forward to lightly bite at your shoulder at the reminder of those horrible films you’d both watched. It was humiliating to admit an Alpha wolf had nightmares about stupid, fictional creatures.

“I’m picking the movie next time...and it’s not being a horror. It’s going to be a nice Disney film!” Hoseok states, sticking his lower lip in a cute pout at you. Your reaction is just to roll your eyes, making him smile proudly. “Anyway, there’s a difference between running a college Pack with only like...20 or 25 people in it. A city Pack though? That’s...that’s real responsibility.”

You sigh quietly, the sound full of doubt and he knows you don’t really understand the big deal. He’d never really discussed it properly with you, mainly because he hadn’t expected to be asked to do something like this. In all honesty, Hoseok had expected to probably take over a small town in the middle of nowhere, which had also had him stressing about whether you’d be happy or not.

But this? This was the big leagues, and while he felt proud to be considered dominant enough to be given such a high position, it would bring a lot of headaches and tension.

“A city can have thousands and thousands of people in it right? Which means that a city Pack, also has a ridiculously high number. I looked into it, and Mancita City Pack had 112 members, most of them older too. Some of them left after the leader died, choosing to go somewhere else. But still...that’s a lot of people. And not only that, but as a City Pack leader, I’d also be on the City Board and have to represent the voice of the wolves. I didn’t...I don’t…” He lifts his hands up in frustration, brow creasing as he struggles to get across his concerns.

Hoseok knows that he should take this job. That in reality, someone like him is needed to control over that many wolves. And he knows that his parents would be unbelievably proud of him. A pup becoming the Alpha of a big Pack was most wolf shifter’s dream, and he was fulfilling it.

They’d be disappointed in him if they found out he didn’t take it. And he was already disappointing them anyway by claiming you as a mate. They didn’t know yet, he didn’t want to tell them until you’d responded to his claim, but they wouldn’t be happy.

His parents adhered to the ‘prey are prey and predators are predators’ philosophy. Which meant that they would never understand a predator mating with a prey shifter. They’d likely be disgusted by his mate choice, and he wanted to shield you from their prejudice so badly.

“Hoseok, it’s your choice...but I think you’ll make a great leader. You’re young and you have lots of great ideas. You have the most mellow personality of any predator shifter I’ve met, yet you’re firm with your Pack and they respect you. I think you should take it, it gives you a guaranteed job right out of college right?” You smile at him, running a thumb over his lower lip almost absentmindedly.

He lets you, appreciating the way you seem to take comfort out of the small movement while he in turn enjoys the feeling. It’s only when his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and catches on your pad that you pull it away, the quiet sound of your heart beat increasing slightly.

“I’ll figure it out. It’s just...everything coming to a head you know? Anyway, we should go back...I have a final tomorrow that I need to study for tonight.” You don’t query about coming with him, as you seem to spend more time with him than not lately. Though being with him also means being with the Pack, and you seem to enjoy the company of the other wolves compared to your lonely home.

“Okay...can we order pizza?” You query, eyes brightening up adorably as you jump off his lap. The movement takes you a little higher than what normal shifters would do, and he lets out a soft huff of amusement as your rabbit nature accidentally lets itself out. He doesn’t answer verbally, just takes your hand once more and nods, letting you practically speed walk him back to the Pack House.

It only takes one deep inhalation once you both enter the house to let him know that most of the Pack are out. One of the members he can definitely smell is the delightful Park Jimin, who comes bounding down the stairs when he hears the door close. As Hoseok tugs off his shoes, he’s struck by an amused thought that the young wolf acts more like a dog sometimes.

He’d get outraged if he heard that thought.

Shaking his head, Hoseok watches with a smile as Jimin launches himself at you, knocking you off balance enough to cause you to stumble backwards with a tinkling laughter. Your arms come up to wrap around Jimin’s waist and for a quick moment, he simply admires the relationship you share with your best friend.

But then his eyes focus on the touch between Jimin and you, how there’s barely any space between your chests and suddenly his own chest is rumbling quietly. The soft sound is loud enough for both of them to pick up though, and he watches with a touch of shame while Jimin’s face falls and he cowers ever so slightly, sensing the disapproval and unhappiness from his Alpha.

Without even realising it, Hoseok’s hand is on your arm and he’s gently pulling until you’re wrapped in his arms, his chin rubbing against your hair while Jimin watches with raised brows. “Hoseok...are you okay?”

The silver wolf sounds vaguely concerned and Hoseok doesn’t quite understand why till he realises that he’s scent marking you. Which is dumb, because you always smell like him because of the mark on your neck, not to mention the amount of time you spend together.

He pulls away with a frown, cheeks flushing as he apologises and bows his head to Jimin. There was no reason to get aggressive and protective of you around Jimin. He was one of your closest friends and one of Hoseok’s most loyal Pack members, he never felt jealous around him.

There’s no more conversation as he watches Jimin and you have a silent conversation before you begin to head up the stairs. As you do so, Jimin casually mentions that he’d already ordered food for those in the house, leaving Hoseok to nod awkwardly.

The look you give Hoseok when you get into his room makes him squirm in place, fingers nervously playing with themselves while his shoulders hunch. You were the only person allowed to see him like this, awkward and unsure of himself. You were also the only person who’s opinion he truly gave a crap about, and his wolf was whining desperately at the disappointed look on your face.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing that today. Maybe I’m just...stressed.” He says quietly, shoulders shrugging limply. You watch him for a moment before the corners of your lips kick up into a smile, sending a quick spike of warmth through him. Reaching out, he takes your hands and gives you a sweet smile in turn, leaning forward to catch your lips quickly.

You respond immediately, shaking off his hand to rest it on his cheek before his tongue flicks across the seam of your lips. It only takes seconds before you’re opening for him, allowing him entrance which he takes almost greedily.

Dipping his tongue into your mouth, he explores languidly, enjoying the way you still give him a brief fight for dominance before acquiescing to his demands. One of the things he loves about you so much, is how you are perhaps the most submissive person he’s ever met and yet when it comes to sex, you’ll still fight him for a few moments. Every time, even though you fall before him.

If it were anyone else, his wolf would snap and snarl, but instead he enjoys the little games you play.

Your hands soon move down his throat, the touches featherlight and sending a shiver through his spine before he feels them stroke down his chest and stomach. It’s only when the hem of his shirt begins to be tugged upwards, revealing his toned abdomen, that he stops, pulling away with a wince while he cups your face.

“I’m sorry little rabbit, but I can’t tonight. I really do need to study, it’s my last exam tomorrow morning and...I really need to pass. I’m so sorry.” He practically begs, throat husky from the kiss. You watch him with slight annoyance in your eyes, brow creasing and he gets the unusual urge to get on his knees. Immediately he pushes it away, knowing it’s only because he doesn’t want to make you angry.

You’re silent for a moment, and it frustrates him that he can’t figure out what you’re feeling from the carefully blank slate that is your face. But then you smile genially, pushing up onto your tiptoes to press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips before you pat his stomach lightly.

“It’s okay, go be geeky.” Your innocent smile turns mischievous and his eyes narrow in response, snapping his teeth at you without any intent behind it. There’s no response from you though, instead you simply walk over to his bed and crawl on top of it, grabbing his PS4 controller and turning both the console and television on.

A wistful sigh leaves him as he sits at his desk, shoulders slumping as he gazes over at you with futile want. He’s never felt more annoyed about being an Alpha than right now. If he was more like some of the other wolves in his Pack, he’d have given in easily to your beautiful eyes and slim body, telling himself that he could study in the morning.

But no, he’s a good wolf.

The next few hours pass slowly for him as he rewrites out his notes, hoping the addition of writing the information out will help to imprint it into his brain while he watches over recorded lectures to make sure he’s not missing anything out. Everyone had laughed at him when he picked History of Prey and Predator Relations as his final subject for the semester, but he thought it was important.

Unsurprisingly, predator shifters were a little pretentious and often looked down on prey shifters, even if they said they didn’t. Which was why he was the only predator in his class, which meant he had to take scent suppressants before every class to stop them from freaking out.

But as an Alpha, it was crucial for him to understand the nuances of prey and predator relationships. To understand why there were prey who lived in towns of their own, such as his mate’s family. It was his own history, but it was also the history of his mate and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to make any accidental faux pas from ignorance.

What had surprised him was much he’d enjoyed the class, and he’d recommended the rest of his Pack to consider taking it. Which was why the university was a little bemused at the fact that next year’s class had a high number of wolf shifters professing interest.

It was midnight by the time he felt ready to go to bed, his neck aching and stiff. Rolling his shoulders slowly, he let out a deep sigh before closing the lid of his MacBook and shuffling all his loose papers into his notebook.

Standing, he stretches and lets out a deep groan before looking over at the bed, heart immediately turning to mush at the sight. He’d been so involved in his studies that he hadn’t noticed the TV going quiet, but he can’t help but smile as he looks you over.

The controller is rested on your stomach, one hand remaining on it while your other hand lay next to your head. Legs are spread in awkward looking positions and your neck is resting rather uncomfortably from the pillows you’d propped up. Honestly, he doesn’t know you’d fallen asleep in that position.

Chuckling to himself, he heads over and takes the controller, turning everything off before turning back to you. He carefully tugs your clothes off before grabbing a shirt from his closet and maneuvering you into it. Once the pillows are in a normal position, he quickly sheds his own clothes and crawls into the bed with you, marvelling at how a prey shifter seems to sleep like a log.

But as he curls up next to your warm body, you let out a soft, sleepy noise before shuffling closer to him and resting your forehead against his chest. He smiles at it, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your soft hair before drifting off himself.

Hoseok’s final goes better than he expected and he’s practically bouncing with energy and happiness when he sees you waiting on a bench outside his class. Because of his scent suppressant, you don’t notice him properly until he’s almost on you but you give him the brightest, prettiest smile when you finally see him.

“Hey Thumper! I’m do-mmpf!” His words disappear when you suddenly leap onto him, his arms quickly moving to support your thighs as he staggers backwards from the force of you. He can’t say anything as you’re kissing him suddenly, hands cupping his face firmly as your tongue practically forces his mouth open.

He lets you with almost zero resistance, brow creasing as both his wolf and him practically freeze in confusion. It’s probably the most submissive Hoseok has ever been, and it’s only when you let out a low moan that his senses come to him, slowly pushing you away until your feet drop to the floor.

Hoseok has to physically push you away when you keep an almost octopus like grip on his head and he gasps loudly as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Err….hi?” Quite honestly, he’s not entirely sure what to do or say. You’ve never been a huge PDA person as it attracts attention to you, which often sets off your instincts.

And yet you’ve practically just tried to eat him alive in front of everyone from his class, which leads to his cheeks flushing a rosy tint when he spies the shocked eyes from everyone else. Surprisingly though, they’re not looking at him but at you and he frowns, grabbing your hand before pulling you along quickly.

“Let’s get lunch hmm?” He says, voice tense at their looks. You make an acknowledging hum to him and as you both walk along, you seem to plaster yourself to his side. In fact, he has to let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, you’re that close to him. It’s almost unnerving, how quiet you remain despite his attempts to start conversations.

As you both enter your usual diner, he muses to himself to try and figure out what’s wrong. Maybe you were just really excited about finishing college or something? Your last exam had been three days ago, and you were only staying on campus to be with him.

A quick nod to Cathy, the waitress that everyone knows well in this diner, is all Hoseok needs before you’re heading to your usual booth, which is thankfully empty. He slides onto the red leather bench, pausing slightly as you follow him and practically curl up in his lap, despite the fact you can’t even actually reach his lap.

Okay, there’s definitely something going on. You only sit next to him when you both come with everyone else, otherwise you sit opposite him. Despite his pouts, you told him that it was easier to talk to him if he was opposite you, so this was weird.

Hoseok normally just got a giant stack of pancakes here, smothered in maple syrup with a pile of bacon on the side. But today he feels like celebrating the end of his college life and so grabs the menu, intending to see if you wanted to share a vomit inducing meal. Vegetarian options for you of course.

Or at least, that’s what he intends until he suddenly feels your hand on his thigh, causing him to choke on his own spit. His loud and frantic coughing is interrupted when you begin to stroke his leg, long and slow movements while the tips of your fingers slide down his inner thigh, causing him to shudder.

“What are you doing!” He hisses desperately, eyes frantically flicking to everyone else in the diner. It’s a damn good job he’s taken the suppressants, as he doesn’t even want to imagine what scents he’d be giving off otherwise right now.

“You’ve finished your exam now Hobi...you promised.” You whine quietly, shuffling even closer to him before you nuzzle your face into his neck, wet lips trailing over the sensitive skin there. He has to bite his lip really hard to stop the moan from leaving his mouth.

“Excuse me...Hoseok,” A meek and timid voice calls out, causing Hoseok to shake his head and desperately try to push you away. He looks at Cathy with wide eyes before frowning as he takes in her carefully arranged face. She looks uncomfortable, and he doesn’t really understand why as he’s pretty sure he’s still got a few more hours of suppressant to work. The only thing he can think is because of how you’re acting.

He gives a quick smile, fully in the knowledge that it usually helps to put others at ease. Cathy’s another rabbit shifter, but she’s been working this job for so long that it often seems like she’s near enough immune to the predator shifters. It’s only when he accidentally loses control of himself that she flinches, but that’s not often.

Only when Jimin purposefully pisses him off in here.

“I’m sorry Cathy, I think she’s just...excited at us both finishing college.” He gives you a quick nudge to try and get you to apologise too, but instead you’re just staring up at him through hooded eyes, pupils wide with need as you pout.

“I can’t smell you Hobi.” You whine softly, the sound almost wolf like and he stares in frustration, wondering why you’re acting like this.

“It’s not that Hoseok, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Cathy gives him a tentative smile while he stares, jaw dropping. He starts to splutter a response, recognising that you were being a bit handsy but you’d stop! She shakes her head. “She’s in heat and it’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

Hoseok stares at her for a moment with no comprehension, brows slowly coming together in confusion before he looks down at you. He takes you in, noting that once you’ve caught his attention you start to bite your lip and press your chest to his arm harder.

“No...she’s not...I mean...no?” He sounds unsure of himself, and he doesn’t particularly like that. “I’m her mate! Well...I’m hers...I’d recognise that? I can’t smell any heat on her?” Hoseok inhales deeply at that, not understanding why he can’t smell what’s obviously setting everyone else off.

Until he suddenly realises. The scent suppressants. They work both ways. Anyone who scents Hoseok right now would just take in his basic scent, no dominance or overwhelming wolf. But it also dulls his senses, so all he can smell is you. Not your rabbit, and certainly not your heat.

Realisation hits him like a freight train then and he lets out a loud groan, slapping his face as it all comes together. Today is evidently day one of your heat, given the way you’ve been trying your hardest to mount him right here. But yesterday would have been your body getting ready, which explains why he kept getting overly possessive over you and why pulling away from you had been so hard.

He was an idiot.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take her home.” He whispers, giving a pained smile to Cathy who nods before leaving quickly. It takes a little bit of pushing to get you out of the booth, and he has to practically run to the door to make you follow him, all the while giving apologetic looks to the other diners who all watch you intently.

“Okay, come on little rabbit. Let’s get you home. Really quick.” He says, wondering how he’s supposed to do that when you’re practically climbing him like a tree. To say he’s mortified at the way people are staring is to underestimate his feelings. You’re not a fan of PDA, but you’re completely comfortable with sex and heats.

Hoseok on the other hand? Well, he’s a wolf and wolves don’t really like to talk sex. You liked to call him a prude, the way he’d clam up in front of others. But sex was personal and intimate! The sheer thought of public sex made him want to fold up like an origami crane.

So this, this was just...horrible. Particularly as he couldn’t even fucking smell you to get turned on by it all!

“Hobi...Hobi please...pleeeease.” You whine into his ear, licking at his throat while your hands tug desperately at his shirt. He tries to walk along, running his hands along your waist reassuringly while he apologises to you repeatedly. This has to be hurting, you’re probably hurting and it upsets him.

But then he remembers the day after his heat had finished, when you’d both been in this very park. And he looks down at you with a smile. He’s never been the one being chased, and he wonders if he can run fast enough to outrun you.

“Thumper...I want you to close your eyes and count for ten seconds, okay?” He says with a smile, pressing kisses to your face and watching as you get an almost dreamy expression, nodding happily. Your eyes close as he asks, causing a ribbon of pleasure at your submissiveness to him, before he presses your hands to them to make sure they stay closed. A quick kiss for each hand is given before he quietly steps away, his own hands out in case you cheat.

“Start counting.” You begin immediately, the words loud and filled with shaking need. The first syllable is all he needs to start running, sprinting down the path and towards the Packhouse faster than he’s ever run in human form before. His wolf is exuberant and he has the strongest urge to howl, excited to be playing with his mate but also expectant of the sex that’s soon to follow.

You don’t seem to notice his absence thankfully, and it’s only once you reach zero that he hears your exclamation of surprise even from here. A quick look over his shoulder lets him see your now tiny form take off after him and he can’t stop the smile spreading on his face, nor the whoop of laughter as he thanks everything that he has longer strides than you.

It’s because of the sheer speed he’s going at that he practically breaks the door down, almost falling onto his hands and knees as he skids into the house. There’s a few Pack members in the living room, sat around the couches as a film plays while bowls of popcorn sit in front of everyone. They all look at him with wide eyes as he stands there, gasping for air before pointing out the door.

“My mate is in heat, so...if you don’t want to listen to that for a week then I’d recommend leaving! I’m so sorry!” He calls out before sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he hears your lighter footsteps following him quickly.

The house is big enough that they don’t have to leave if they don’t want to, and some of the submissive ones probably won’t as they aren’t likely to be affected by you. Those who are a bit more dominant probably will though, as he presumes that you’re probably giving off an unbelievably alluring scent.

Damn his exam!

Hoseok only just manages to get into his room before you’re barreling in after him, almost falling onto the bed while he closes the door and presses the lock firmly. Taking gulping breaths, he turns his gaze to you and swallows at the sheer lust in your eyes.

Good gods, he was about to get the best sex of his fucking life.

“Little rabbit.” He coos quietly, deepening his voice to the level that he knew sent shudders through you. “Is someone feeling a little turned on?” At the words you’re mewling with lust, hands clenching and unclenching by your sides while he notes the darkened patches of your yellow shirt, the heat literally getting you warm and sweating with desire.

“Come here sweetheart,” His fingers crooks to you and you practically bound over to him, latching yourself onto his front and rubbing your face all over his chest. Wandering hands cause him to let out an ‘oof’ as you grab his ass, tugging his hips into your own before you’re straining on your toes to reach his neck, pretty pink tongue licking a trail of craving along his throat.

Your desire for him has his wolf practically howling in pride, but your assertiveness soon sets him off and a low rumble vibrates through his chest. Taking your hands, he lifts them up before dipping his head down to catch your errant lips with his own before pulling away, smirking as you chase after him.

“Little bunny, you know better than to try to take control right?” His voice is slightly condescending, which combined with his raised brow has you pouting and lowering your head, nodding with a pout. Inhaling deeply, a soft groan leaves him at the scent of the liquid passion that’s obviously pooling between your legs given how your thighs clench repeatedly, and he’s happy to note that he can at least smell that.

“Does my little rabbit need my help?” Hoseok taunts, grinning when you keen and try to push your hips forward, despite the fact your hands are keeping you held away. He takes pity on you and lets go, noting with pleased surprise that you begin to tear your clothes off as quickly as possible before you slam to your knees in front of him, whining quietly.

“Hoseok, please. Please Hoseok. Please Hobi, please fuck me.” You whisper, almost panting from the heat driven need that’s coursing through your body. Before he can even respond though, you’re crawling forward and nuzzling your face into his legs, face rubbing against the harsh fabric of jeans while your back arches. The movement means that you’re presenting your ass as best you can to him, in the universally recognised symbol of ‘please fuck me now’.

A deep, full bodied groan leaves his throat at the sight and he crouches down, a hand cupping your face to pull your mouth towards his as he kisses you hard. “Bed.” Is all he can get out, the syllables gruff and overflowing with lust.

He’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t get turned on quick enough for you given he can’t scent you properly, but he’s pleased to note that what he can smell, combined with your submissive offerings, has him walking awkwardly with a full erection already.

Now, whether he can keep this up for five or six days is another matter, but he’s prepared for that.

Since being with you, he’d done research into rabbit shifter heats to make sure he’s ready, particularly given how wrecked you had him after his own heat. Which is why he knew that there would be no knotting on his behalf - he did it often in normal sex with you but there was a chance of pregnancy here, even if it was unbelievably slim because of the prey/predator differences - and that he had needed to buy in support to give his dick a rest.

So...hopefully he was prepared.

You follow his command eagerly, eyes lighting up with excitement as you practically scramble onto his bed. He goes to say something though when he sees you begin to present already and he groans quietly, seeing the practically seeping entrance to your pussy winking at him from between your legs while your bitingly gorgeous ass wriggles to attract his attention.

Boy, did it get his attention.

“God baby, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs wistfully, reaching out and running his hand along the smooth skin as he admires you even more. His touch makes you shiver and he simply watches as you practically undulate underneath him, gasping pants tinged with a whine.

“Hoseok please...please fuck me. Oh god please.” Crawling onto the bed himself, he props himself up against his headboard, fluffing up the pillows, before opening his arms and grinning. It takes no time at all for you to practically leap into them, legs straddling one thigh and letting him get a delicious view of your already engorged clit.

He doesn’t get chance to do anything though as your mouth catches his almost viciously. Grunting, he immediately takes over and kisses you with a need that pales in comparison to your own. It’s wet and messy, not even remotely refined and it has him straining in his pants.

Particularly when you begin to grind your hips against his jean clad thigh, the harsh friction of the fabric against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves has you keening into his mouth while your fingers grip his shoulders so tightly. He struggles for a moment to take control back, mind flying in a hundred directions before he grips your firm ass cheeks tightly, controlling the rhythm of your slow grinds.

It’s while he does this that he simulates fucking you with his mouth, sliding his tongue slowly in and out in a way that has your thighs tightening up around his own. It’s slow and sensual, and has to stop himself from grinding his own hips against you.

Pulling away slightly, he takes in the sight of your puffy lips and glazed over eyes with pride before he leans forward, making sure to keep direct eye contact while he idly dances his tongue along your lower lip before grazing his teeth over the vulnerable flesh.

Your pupils are huge now, the colour of your irises almost gone but he still spots the deep, wooden brown that gives away that your eyes have shifted. His always used to freak you out at first, but yours are actually kind of cute. He’s never seen it before.

As he keeps that intense eye contact, noses touching, he slowly sucks your lower lip into his mouth, tongue playing at the edge before he lets it go slowly. It’s only then that he breaks the link, his nose nudging along the soft skin of your cheek while his open mouth blazes a trail along your jawline, dipping down into the exposed expanse of your throat.

He likes your throat. It’s probably a predator thing, but he enjoys seeing his mark there. He likes to bruise it as well, making sure everyone knows that you’re his and you’re taken care of. It makes him feel bad when he comes to himself, but you tell him that you like it and don’t mind.

He also likes to touch it, but he never attempts to simulate choking of any kind, even if he’d love to try. Your very nature will never let that happen, and he wouldn’t think of abusing your trust like that. It would take a deep, deep trust for a rabbit to let a wolf so something like that.

But still, he gets to admire it and play as much as he dare. Which is why he’s tonguing along the velvety skin, feeling each indentation of muscle and tendon while hearing the rush of blood through your artery. It’s only here that he actually gets to scent a weak version of your heat, the smell still enough to have his wolf snapping.

“Oh little rabbit, you smell fucking amazing.” He grunts out, biting down lightly over his own mark. It’s a sensitive area for mates, and you react exactly like you always do, crying out while your body shudders from the sensation. Only this time, the reaction is even more intense and he realises with a start that you’re already orgasming, each grind of your clit against his thigh causing a high pitched whine to leave you.

In fact, he’s left to lick at your neck in disbelief, wondering how on earth you were this sensitive? He hadn’t read anything about heat sensitivity, but maybe you had it. He liked it, he decided. Even if he did have a sticky, wet patch on his jeans, but what man wouldn’t enjoy that?

“Oh, good girl. And I haven’t even touched you properly!” He crows in delight, grinning broadly before he’s shifting his hands under your ass. A quick flex of his arms and he has your back resting firmly against the pillows, kneeling back to take a look at what he has to work with.

Already, you’re eagerly spreading your legs for him and lifting your hips up invitingly, despite the orgasm you’ve literally just had. It’s almost like it never happened, as you bite your lip while your hands stroke at your waist and breasts. “Hoseok. I want your cock Hoseok. Please, make me feel good.” The breathy words are hard to resist, but he knows he has to pace himself.

“You will little rabbit, you’ll get my cock don’t worry. I just have to take care of you first, right?” Hoseok states, teeth flashing before he leans down. The scent of you is intoxicating here and he doesn’t even bother to try and keep in the moan of want. Your thighs are glistening from your excitement, the sticky liquid trickling from your drenched core to coat your ass cheeks and he sighs happily.

“So damn wet.” He murmurs, nosing along your pubic bone and letting his breath hit your clit teasingly. It has you wiggling and he presses a firm hand to your stomach, keeping you in place before he gives you one, long lick from your soaked entrance, all the up to your needy bud.

He gets a lot of your essence on his tongue as he goes, before swallowing with pleasure. His tongue licks at his mouth before he’s pressing it flat to the little nub, moving it in slow circles before sucking it into his mouth. The flesh is almost scorching hot and delicious, but it’s your reactions that really get him going.

You’re crying out loudly, hands fisting the sheets before moving up to the pillows, trying desperately to grab at something your body isn’t sure it wants. It only takes a few more long licks and sucks before your hand is tightening in his hair, the grip smarting and he grunts lightly at the sensation, sucking so hard that it has to be borderline painful for you.

Glancing up to look at your face, he feels a flood of satisfaction roll through his body at the expression of sheer ecstasy he sees. Biteable lips are spread open while your eyelashes flutter over your cheeks as your eyes remain closed, soft whimpers of pleasure escaping.

Each press of his lips to your clit has your thighs clenching, and when his tongue dips down into your pussy, he feels the muscles there tightening in desperation for something to fill you up and he can’t help but smirk. The sheer amount of wetness leaking from you has his cheeks and chin soaked, but Hoseok enjoys the feeling and tries to encourage it more, tongue fucking you the way he knows you love.

But it’s not enough, and it doesn’t take long before you’re whining in annoyance while your hips overpower his hand. He chuckles, pulling away slightly to lick at his lips before pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh. “Okay little rabbit, okay. I get it, not so submissive when you’re not getting what you want hmm?”

“Hoseok, please. Please use your fingers or anything, god just please fill me with something.” You pant out, and he watches with fascination as your entrance practically winks at him with the agony of not being penetrated yet.

“Let’s fill you up little bunny, hmm?” He whispers, sliding two fingers into your practically sopping pussy and feeling a bloated sense of pride at the long and breathy whine of satisfaction that leaves you. If this was normal sex, Hoseok would play with you and explore the delightfully wet and warm channel, but he knows that you’re not in the mood for that today.

And so instead, he begins to finger you at a furiously pace, his arm tensing repeatedly and watching as you gasp out with eyes wide open. A slight curve has the tips of his fingers brushing against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves on your vagina walls, each movement causing a spasm of your limbs.

It’s almost lewd, in fact no - it is lewd how unbelievably wet you were and how drenched you get once he starts. Each movement of his hand produces a squelching sound while more of your juices begins to trickle past your entrance with each pull.

The scent is overwhelming even to him now, and he lets out a frustrated moan at the fact that he can’t smell you like normal. Still, his hard on is unbelievable and he wants to palm himself so badly. But if he does that, he knows he’ll bring your attention to it and he doesn’t want that yet.

“Do you want my tongue? Do you want me to suck on that pretty clit of yours till you’re tightening around my fingers like a good girl?” You shudder at that, obviously pleased with the idea while a low keen leaves you.

“Please Hoseok, please. Make me feel good, please.” If he were under his own heat, or even if this were just normal sex, he’d be more demanding of you. He’d tease and push until you were almost crying with need, but the sheer frustration on your face combined with the lack of full sentences was letting him know very clearly that he would only be able to get away with so much this time.

It would be cruel to make you wait when in a heat frenzy, so instead, he’d just focus on making you cry with orgasms.

Which was why he didn’t say anything further, instead just made an affirmative noise before swooping down between your legs. His tongue played along your pussy like his fingers played the piano, soft and gentle before striking up a furiously quick pace.

The combination of his mouth and the constant, incessant stroking of his fingers inside your velvety smooth walls had you reaching your peak quicker than he’d ever got you there. Tiny tremors began to take over your body, thigh muscles twitching around his shoulders while your stomach heaved with the effort of controlling your breath.

It only took a particularly rough thrust of his hand and an extra hard suck on your clit to push you over that precipice, ragged cries escaping your mouth while your hips flexed against him relentlessly. But as delightful as it was to watch you cum, it was even better to feel you cum.

And the vice-like, rhythmical grip of your pussy on his fingers had him groaning while his own hips pressing into the bed for relief. Each fluttering grasp of your walls against his fingers just made him think of what you would feel like around his cock.

High pitched whining let him know you were delving into over-stimulated territory, and he made soft cooing noises while he pulled away slowly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and enjoying the slick he left there. Removing his fingers was even more rewarding, and he admired the way your excitement stuck his fingers together before stringing apart.

A contented hum left him as he sucked them into his mouth, his tongue swiping up every inch of your taste he could. It’s only when he focuses back on your face that he notices the hungry look in your eyes already, practically glowing in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Does my little rabbit want more already?” He purrs, raising a brow as he looks down at the slickness that almost drips from you. There’s not a hint of resistance or shyness as you nod at him, teeth biting at already sore lips and he tuts softly.

Leaning over you, he pulls your lip away before sucking on it soothingly, letting his tongue lave over any hurts; all the while his eyes are focused directly on you. When you strain to catch his mouth in a kiss, he simply pulls away and kneels there, grinning at the sight of you naked, fucked out and yet needy while he remains fully clothed.

“I bought something for you little bunny, do you want to see?” Hoseok teases playfully, leaning down to nip at the soft skin of your inner knee before moving off the bed to his closet. When he comes back, he sees that you’ve raised yourself onto your elbows and are watching him with an intent gaze.

It’s almost predatory, which is particularly amusing given it’s you.

“What is it? It better be something I want otherwise I’ll be disappointed in you for ruining the moment.” You grunt out, your heat partially satiated for the moment to allow a little more coherent thought to take place, even if it does make his wolf snap. But when he pulls out the magical items from the bag and lays them on the bed, your pupils expand immediately and your heat washes over you.

His suppressants must be dying off, because he’s pretty sure he’s starting to smell it and oh god, does he want to fuck you into the mattress till you can’t even move properly.

“I did a little research on rabbit shifter heats,” He murmurs, running a finger along the items he’d already removed from their packaging and cleaned beforehand. Just in case. “And I’m wolf enough to admit that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. So I bought help.” His grin, would probably be described as wolfish as he sees how focused you remain on those delightful items.

Taking his time, Hoseok lifts up the first item and turns it on, letting the low level buzz fill the room while he takes in the immediate reaction from you. Lush lips fall open while your eyes widen in want, legs spreading even further and your hips cant upwards invitingly.

But he doesn’t use it, and instead turns it off and lays it back down on the bed. No, he’s more interested in the other toy right now, and lifts up the dildo with an interested gaze. The website had said that it was designed to stimulate the g-spot specifically, and it did have a peculiar curve to it that his dick did not.

“I wonder if this works?” He muses to himself, letting the head of the dildo rub against the engorged lips of your labia, coating it in your juices. Up and down, up and down he strokes it before finally slipping it into your empty entrance slowly.

The intrusion of the sex toy has you letting out the longest, lowest groan he’s ever heard from you. He wasn’t sure he could get any harder, but he does, and he lets out a pained moan of his own as his jeans trap him so uncomfortably.

“Feel good?” Hoseok’s voice is choked, tight with repressed need to fuck you into oblivion. There’s no verbal reply from you, simply a gasping cry as your body writhes around, trying to shift the fake cock into the perfect position.

He’d been moving it slowly, getting used to it himself and also getting used to the unusual sensation of watching you get fucked a cock that isn’t his. Hoseok is actually surprised by how competitive he suddenly feels, eyes narrowing as he twists it until the curved part is evidently rubbing against the sensitive spot inside you.

The reaction is immediate - your hips jerk off the bed while a shaking cry leaves your throat, hands grasping at the bed sheets and panting. Pushing down on the toy, he makes it press against your walls even harder and begins to move it faster, muscles in his arm aching slightly from the constant movement.

But it’s worth it, to watch you groan and whine in absolute desperation, completely at his mercy. His wolf is practically growling in delight and he can’t stop the responding rumble of approval from his chest.

It has you pausing for a moment, eyes wide before there’s a tremor of anticipation that rolls through you. He takes note of it idly with a smirk, enjoying the way that there was a tiny part of you that was bizarrely turned on by the panic his dominance caused.

“Does my little rabbit enjoy getting fucked by a fake cock? Do you? Do you like this fucking you? Or would you rather my cock? Would your greedy pussy rather be filled with my cock?” He practically hisses at that, the metaphorical fur on his back rising as he gets filled with a bizarre kind of jealousy.

“My cock could fill you full of cum in a way this never could.” He growls, biting down on the soft and supple flesh of your thigh. It has you practically purring with pleasure despite the initial jerk away from his sharpened teeth, running a hand down your stomach before reaching his hand.

“I want your cock, I want your cum. Please Hobi, fill me, please.” You beg him, running a placating hand down his wrist and still trying to encourage him to move it harder. At that, he growls viciously, teeth bared.

“Really? Do you really? Because you seem to be pretty fucking happy to be getting fucked by this.” He snarls, lifting up the dildo and letting you watch the excitement literally drip off the tip onto the coarse hair along your pubic bone.

Immediately, you’re trying to appease him. He has not doubt that under normal circumstances, that would be with coherent sentences and soothing touches, but the heat has you in its lust filled grip and instead you simply stroke your own body, eyeing him seductively.

“No baby, no. I want your cock, please give me it. I’ll be a good bunny.” You whisper, biting your lip while your eyes roll into the back of your head as he makes a particularly harsh thrust. He doesn’t bother to answer, and instead grabs the vibrator and turns it on.

You don’t get a word in before he’s pressing it to your clit, twisting it until he finds that sweet spot that has you practically blubbering. There’s no coherent words now, just noises and garbled sounds that leave your mouth as he increases the intensity.

He’s brutal and relentless, arm muscles almost seizing up as he thrusts the dildo into your wet pussy, all the while the vibrator works at the engorged bundle of nerves between your legs incessantly. It’s almost laughable how quickly you fall apart in his arms, body spasming violently while liquid gushes from you with each thrust, coating his wrist and his bed sheets.

Hoseok wishes he was inside you, and he decides that he’s had enough. He’s only a man, and he can only cope with so much torture.

Which is why he pulls the dildo free from your pussy and throws it onto the bed, uncaring of where it lands. Instead, his focus remains on the soaked, swollen flesh between your legs while he tears off his clothes, throwing them to all corners of his room.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you struggle to walk after this heat ends.” He states bluntly, tone even and giving away none of the desire he’s feeling. Your eyes are fucked out, body moving limply from the third orgasm but as soon as his dick bursts free from his pants, bobbing gently in the open air, fresh excitement begins to leak from you and he can’t help but groan.

“Oh little rabbit, oh sweet thing. Look at you, all fucked out yet a glimpse of my cock and you’re dripping for me all over.” Hoseok strokes himself slowly, rasping out a moan as he tightens his grip around the shaft before thumbing over the sensitive head, currently leaking pre-cum.

Taking in the sight of you, he shuffles forward, running the tip along the wet flesh and coating himself in a delightfully thick layer of your juices. It only takes the slightest shift of his hips to slip into your warmth, and he almost sobs in relief at the tight sensation that grips him. He could die right here, and die a happy man.

There’s just a moment of quiet as he enjoys the sensation before he begins to move, letting his cock slip in and out of you in slow, methodical movements. Tiny muscles in your pussy ripple along his length, causing him to pant as sweat breaks out on his face, dampening his hair.

Each movement causes pops of bliss to explode in his veins, his hands running along your thighs before sliding up your waist. He takes a moment to play with your nipples, twisting the pebbled nubs reverantely between his fingers before moving them further up, resting by your head.

Now, he’s hovering over your body and he leans down slowly, whispering into your ear. “I’m gonna breed you, little rabbit, I’m going to breed you hard until you’re leaking me a week from now. This pussy is going to be coated in white because of me, because this is my pussy. And only mine.” He grunts, not fully aware of his overly possessive words. With each thrust rocking your body up the bed, he hears the delightful music of your panted moans in his ear.

Hoseok wishes he could last longer, he wishes that he could make it last longer to tease you, but he can’t. Reaching for the vibrator he’d thrown away, he presses it to your clit and turns it back on, groaning out as stray vibrations run through his own cock.

“Oh fuck.” He whispers, eyes closing as his hips snap forward, flesh slapping against flesh obscenely and it’s with a strangled moan that he cums. His body tenses and his balls tighten, muscles quivering as his cock begins to twitch inside the excruciating warmth of your pussy, coating you with himself.

The sensation of him orgasming combined with the vibrator on your over-stimulated clit has your body jerking underneath his while a pained, breathy moan leaves your mouth in his ear. Each clench of your orgasm has his own prolonging, until he’s not sure he’ll ever cum again in all honesty.

Fiery satisfaction burns through his veins, his mind focused solely on the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensations of his cock. He doesn’t even notice the sharp pain in his neck from where you’d been moaning into it.

But he does notice the bond snapping into place immediately, an invisible twang of a rubber band settling between the two of you. It’s instantaneous and for a few seconds, the pleasure becomes almost unbearable as the bond bounces your emotions off each other, intensifying it each time until you’re both orgasming a second time.

It’s almost painful for Hoseok, to be cumming so fast after an orgasm already. But this time, there’s something behind the lust and desire that feels comforting and pleasant. He doesn’t analyse it yet, instead just focusing on the electric stimulation in his body before almost collapsing on top of you.

Harsh panting is all that can be heard afterwards, and the room feels hot. Your skin isn’t as hot as before, and you simply look at him with a sleepy smile when he lifts himself up to look at you with a slight sense of wonder. His cock slides out of you slowly, and he sits up shakily to watch with a satisfied smirk as his cum slowly begins to leak from your used hole.

He wishes he could knot you, but that would run the risk of children. And he doesn’t want that yet.

Instead, he’ll just have to go at it normally. When he looks back up, his brow raises when he sees you staring at him intently, and it’s with an internal sigh that he realises rabbit heat’s really are a different breed. The scent of your heat is even stronger to him now, and it’s with even more surprise that he feels a stirring in his cock already, only minutes after he’d had perhaps the best orgasm of his life.

Laughing slightly, he shakes his head before turning and laying on his back. Taking a deep breath, he looks over at you before gesturing to himself with a smirk. “Come on then little rabbit, let’s see if this wolf can blow your house down.”

It’s the stuffy heat of his room, combined with the stench of stale sex, that wakes Hoseok up from a dead sleep. Coughing gruffly, he winces at the dryness of his throat and attempts to lick at his chapped lips to provide some respite.

Blinking blearily, a low grunt leaves him as the sun through streams through the open curtains. A stray thought runs through his head that maybe he’d accidentally given others a show over the last six days.

At that, he glances over to his side and spys you, curled up into a ball on your side with your back facing him. He takes a moment to simply admire you, taking in the gentle curve of your waist along with the smooth expanse of skin along your back.

It’s currently littered with dark bruises that have been sucked, spanked and gripped into your skin over the last few days. A slow curl of pride slides its way around his body before he suddenly remembers, the slight twinge in his neck suddenly reminding him.

Pressing a hand to the still sore flesh, a shy smile takes over as his fingers trail the mark there and the pride erupts into butterflies of excitement and happiness. You’d marked him. You’d claimed him.

You were officially a bonded pair.

He’d need to take you to officially register it at the Mate Registry, to let everyone know that the two of you had claimed each other. It was like a weight off his shoulders, knowing that you felt strong enough about him to accept him for life.

Hoseok doesn’t even realise that he’s reaching for you until his hand is wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. A soft murmur of protest is all he gets before you blink back at him, eyes tired and your scent back to normal.

“Hi.” Is all he manages to get out, and he’d be more annoyed at himself if he actually thought that he could think of anything better to say. But he can’t.

It doesn’t matter, as your lips break out into a heart stopping smile as you wriggle in his arms until you’re facing him. The lack of clothing bothers neither of you, and he watches fondly as your eyes take in his appearance before resting on the still prominent mark on his neck. It would take a good week or two for it to settle down like yours, but he was proud to wear it.

His cheeks tint slightly before he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, hoping you don’t mind morning breath too badly. “Thank you.” Is all he manages to get out, causing your brow to raise.

“For what? Letting you fuck me into oblivion? You did really good by the way, well done on the toys.” You grin, patting his chest before letting your hand rest there, stroking gently in almost hypnotic movements.

“Not that you little demon. And you’re welcome, I did my research. Anyway no, thank you...for choosing me. It means...I mean...I didn’t think you would.” He murmurs out, cheeks going hot with a combination of shame and embarrassment.

At that, you lift your head back to rest on the pillow, brows turned inwards in confusion while you stare at him. “Why wouldn’t I pick you? You’re ridiculously dominant yeah, and that still wigs me out sometimes. But...you’re the sweetest guy ever. So kind, funny and supportive. And you never pushed, even though I knew it probably had to hurt to be bonded to me and know I could go anywhere. There’s no need to worry though, you’re my big bad wolf now.”

You grin broadly and lean forward to press a kiss to the mark, causing him to shiver slightly and he’s beyond surprised when he feels the slightest twitch from his groin. How the hell could he possible get it up after six days of non-stop sex?

Shaking his head, he lets out a sigh before giving you a loved-up smile. “I love you.” It’s the first time he’s ever admitted that. It had been so hard to keep those precious words inside, when they had bubbled up within him so many times. When he’d watched you giggle with your friends, smile lighting up your face, or the soft way your hair would blow when his window was open. They’d crawled up his throat when he watched you nap, the way your nose would twitch like a rabbits in your deep sleep or the way you bounce cutely when excited.

He loves you right now, even though you’re sticky and gross with dried sweat and cum, hair messy and just all around not great in reality. But god, does he love you passionately. You look at him with wide eyes, so round and innocent, and his chest swells until he can barely speak. The others would laugh at his emotional outburst, but he didn’t care.

“I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to let me continue loving you. I didn’t want to tell you in case you thought it was influencing you. You needed to come to that decision on your own. But, I’ll never stop letting you know, okay?” Hoseok whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, eyes glistening slightly before leaning forward to press a kiss to his mouth. He doesn’t expect a response yet, but he’s comfortable in the knowledge that he’ll get one soon.

A comfortable silence falls over the room, both content with just being in the grip of each other before you speak quietly. “I think you should take the Mancita City Pack role.”

He stays quiet before querying why you think this, letting his hand run over your back in slow and methodical movements. “Because you’ll be a phenomenal Alpha. And it’s what you deserve. Anything less is not doing justice to you.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile at that, nuzzling his nose into your hair before letting out a breath. “You think? I was thinking of taking it too. We wouldn’t have to worry about a place to live, and I’d be making more than enough to support us.”

At that, you lift up your head to look at him with a frown. “Can I work as an Alpha’s mate? Will they even accept me as a rabbit shifter?” There’s a tone of worry to your voice that has him frowning, his wolf demanding he console you and take care.

“Hey, hey. It doesn’t matter, Alpha’s don’t always need to mate with wolves. If anything, you’ll be the perfect mate as normally the mate of the Alpha is the one who is the balancing stone to them. I’ll turn to you when the pack is relying on me. And in turn, you can rely on me.” He presses a kiss to your nose gently.

“Trust me, you can work. I would never demand anything of you and I will 100% support you in anything you want to do. Whether you want to get a normal job, or start a business or something. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. Don’t think that just because I’m your mate, you can’t be independent.”

You stay quiet before your mouth creases into a smile, eyes lighting up in the morning sun and his stomach flips. “That...is why I chose to claim you. I’ll be your support hero. Just like you do now, when you’re feeling stressed or upset or tired when something is annoying you then just talk to me. Tell me. I’ll be your confidant, so that you can do your job properly.”

He laughs loudly at that, head flinging back on his pillow as happiness rolls through his body. “You don’t make me sound like a big bad wolf, you know that?” Hoseok teases, nudging your nose before pressing a closed mouth kiss to your lips.

You giggle and kiss him back contentedly, moving back before sighing. “You may not be, but you’re still my wolf.” The words sound familiar and it takes a moment before he remembers what he told you in the park when you both started dating, causing him to snicker lightly.

“Is that going to be our cheesy go-to line in our relationship?” He asks, teeth flashing white as a smile takes over his face.

“Maybe. But it’s a good line right?” You whisper, wrinkling your nose at him. Hoseok simply watches you, his heart in his eyes before nodding.

“Yeah, it is. And you’re right. I am your wolf. And I hope you never regret that.”

“Never. This little bunny, will definitely live happily ever after.”

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