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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 6! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEX. Some of it is on the rougher side. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 6858

A/N: This part is HUGE, y'all, a monster! So much is happening. I'm sorry, I just could not for the life of me pair it down or find a good place to break it up, so I'm hoping you're all okay with the ginormous size of this part!

And y'all-- your reactions, reblogs, messages, and comments--I couldn't believe what an amazing response I got for Part 5, like I actually teared up, no lie. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are rooting for our reader and falling in love with/getting hot for EP as much as I am as you read! I hope you like this part, too, cuz I've got some good stuff planned for them coming ahead. (I'm a sucker for angst and tension, if you can't tell!)

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks since now I know how they work lol)! I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(Listen, I chose this picture for very specific reasons for this part, so enjoy!)

The secret of it thrills you now, sitting there in the round booth with the other ladies before the show begins. The scarf still smells like Elvis, and each time you catch a whiff, it reminds you of his skin on yours. You smile inwardly at the thought.

You’ve shoved your earlier humiliation down as far as it will go, choosing to not let Jack ruin your night. Nothing really has changed, you convince yourself, things are only confirmed. You didn’t tell the others what happened, instead overcompensating, throwing yourself into having a good time, fueled by anticipation from the pink silk knotted around your neck and what might happen when Elvis sees it.

Finally, the lights go down and the crowd cheers. The Sweet Inspirations were a wonderful opening act, but you all know who you are really here for. The band starts playing and you feel your heart rate increase. The entire room is excited, though a nervousness underlies your own excitement. What if he doesn’t notice? What if it was all an act to placate you? What if he’s changed his mind?

You can’t dwell too much on it because Elvis enters and the room goes wild. He walks on the stage, in all black tonight, looking like a panther stalking the jungle, and you have to keep yourself from jumping out of your seat. Your heart hits your stomach at just how incredible he looks, and even though you can sense an initial nervousness in him the first few songs, he captivates the crowd immediately. He runs through all his old hits before heading into a breathless and charming monologue about how he ended up here, and somehow, he has you just as mesmerized, if not more, than the rest of the ladies in the audience.

He's obviously in good spirits, laughing frequently as he messes around with Charlie and the backup singers, changing the lyrics to some of his old hits to funny or naughty things, making the raucous, well-imbibed midnight audience laugh with him. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how he commands such a large room with ease, making every person feel seen even though they are just a sea of faces.

His voice sounds good, though maybe a bit tired with it being the second show of the night. He doesn’t let it affect his performance one bit, however. He is as energetic as ever and you become increasingly distracted by the way his body moves up there, thrusting in time with the drums, your mind unable to forget how he was doing the same to you less than 48 hours ago.

Heat flushes your body as you desperately squeeze your thighs together, because the more his baritone croons and the more he moves, the more you can picture him, feel him, on top of you. You are struck by how similar his performance seems to those intimate moments, just how turned on he looks playing and singing up there in front of the crowd. That mischievous glint in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches, how his lips pull, and that damn gritty whine in his voice the further up he goes in pitch—it all feels so very seductive. Even his fast, even vibrato has you shifting in your seat. You are thankful for the darkened room because you know your cheeks must be on fire and you can’t blame the unfinished martini sitting in front of you on the table.

You cannot tear your eyes from him, drinking in every inch, so captivated that you barely register when he brings the lights up to kiss his way through the audience during a rendition of Love Me Tender. Part of you feels a little jealous of all the girls, but as Elvis comes closer and closer, your heart speeds up and all you wonder is if he will have a chance to see you through the sea of women surrounding him. You fear he won’t, and prepare yourself for disappointment, reminding yourself that you’ll have access to him after the show anyway.

You need not have worried because he seems to sense you through the crowd, his blue eyes finding yours instantly as he nears the table. It is only for a second, as the barrage around him is intense, but his eyes flit down to the scarf and back up to your face, giving you a small grin and a wink before being consumed by the crowd once again.

You sit on your hands to keep yourself from leaping from your seat and attacking him right there and then. Just a few nights ago, you would’ve been absolutely mortified at this reaction to Elvis, but after everything that’s happened in the last few days, you can’t bring yourself to care, instead letting yourself get swept up by the feelings in your body. The heat flowing through you is intense, and you can’t seem to catch your breath. He saw you, alright, and now all you have to do is wait.

Which is easier said than done because your body is already ridiculously aroused. The more he sings and the more you watch, the more wetness pools between your legs. You have never in your life been aroused in a room full of people, and the more you try not to think about him, the worse it gets because he is right there, looking like that, seducing you without even trying.

Finally, he begins Can’t Help Falling in Love, bringing the show to a close, and Sonny rushes out to usher you all away from the table and get you backstage before it ends. You can’t help but fiddle with the scarf and the TLC necklace beneath it, both of which mark you as Elvis’, as you wait to see him.

You become increasingly aware, however, that you need to keep cool. Everyone is milling about, so any glances or words could be seen or heard easily. However, Jack is paying no attention to you whatsoever, making you somewhat infuriated but not surprised (though if he did pay attention to you in this moment, you might slap him in the face, so it’s probably better this way, you think). Pushing that aside, nervousness, laced with a little excitement at the danger of it, floods through you. It is all forgotten the moment you see Elvis walking towards all of you. You stand as casually as possible, attempting to make conversation with the ladies around you, waiting patiently as he greets everyone backstage.

He is drenched in sweat, blotting himself periodically with the towel around his neck as he slowly makes his way through the group. You feel that magnetic pull towards him as he lightly hugs everyone, a need that has your limbs tingling and forcing yourself to stand still. Then finally he gets to you, pulling you a little tighter, his hand gripping at your waist. You circle your hands to his back, the heat of his exertion rolling off him in waves, and you are overwhelmed by being so close to him again.

“Great show, E,” you manage to say breathlessly as he brings you closer.

He leans in quickly. “Wait for Jerry, baby,” he whispers so quiet in your ear, you almost question that he spoke at all.

Shivers rush through you, both in acknowledgement and anticipation. You squeeze him in a silent reply before he moves along.

Now you just need to figure out how to separate yourself from the pack without it seeming suspicious. But before you can think of something, Jerry is already pulling you to the side, as the others talk excitedly and make their way out. No one even seems to notice you’ve stayed behind.

You and Jerry look at each other for the first time since the incident with Jack earlier in the night. Part of you is suddenly worried about his judgement—it must be quite obvious to him what’s going on between you and Elvis, and he probably thinks it’s only a way for you to get back at Jack. You want to tell him it’s not, at least not just that, but he just looks at you knowingly.

“We have to wait until EP kicks everyone out of his dressing room before I take you back,” Jerry says.

“Jerry, it’s—” you begin.

He throws up a hand. “It’s none of my business, y/n, really. And I’m a vault when it comes to EP’s personal activities, so you don’t got to worry about that.” He pauses before continuing, “And after what happened earlier…well, you do what you gotta do.” He gives you an empathetic look.

“Thanks, Jer,” is all you can think of to say.

He only nods, then looks at his watch.

You can’t bring yourself to make small talk after that. After a few decidedly awkward, silent minutes, he motions you forward, leading you through hallways until you reach the door that says, Dressing Room of Elvis Presley. Your heart flip flops and suddenly you wonder if this is such a good idea after all. Doubt creeps in—how could Elvis, of all people, want to be with you when your own husband doesn’t want you? The thought makes your heart sink, but the part of you that is pissed off reminds you that Jack can go fuck himself.

Jerry listens at the door for a moment, then nods before letting you in. You know he’ll guard the door from anyone looking to enter, so you aren’t worried about that, but it feels a little ominous the way he closes the door behind you with finality.

Alone, at last.

The dressing room is huge, comprised first of this huge waiting room, which is currently empty, save for you. Further in, there is an open door leading to a private dressing area and then a bathroom beyond that. Elvis is not in this area, but the beautiful timbre of his voice, singing a gospel song, echoes from beyond, deeper in. You are drawn to it, slowly walking towards it as if hypnotized. The sound is so lovely it raises the hairs on your arms. Even though you just sat through 90 minutes of him singing, this is different, much more private, and it almost feels like you are eavesdropping. Suddenly, you feel an overwhelming swell of emotion for this man.

Pushing it down and clearing your throat, you alert him to your presence. “Elvis?”

The singing stops abruptly. “Come on back, honey!” he calls.

Nerves flutter through you as you walk back into the private dressing area. He’s not in here, so you place your clutch on a coffee table and straighten your dress, checking your reflection briefly in the vanity mirror before hesitantly making your way back to the bathroom.

You pause in the doorway, suddenly feeling rather bashful. Elvis is wearing a lush purple robe, his back to you, but sensing your presence, he turns immediately to face you.

He takes your breath away, even now. He’s positively glowing, most likely from the high of his performance, his hair still wet with sweat and plastered on his forehead. A grin spreads over his handsome features.

“You changed your mind,” he states.

“I did.”

“Hmm,” he muses. Then he fully takes you in, his eyes slowly roaming down your body in such a way that makes you flush from head to toe, your breath heaving in your chest. He glides towards you, cat-like in his smoothness, stopping right in front of you.

“That’s quite the little dress,” he says looking down at you, voice low, as his fingers toy with the hem. “D’you wear it just for me?” You can feel his fingertips lightly brush the bare skin of your thigh in the process and you can’t breathe. All you can do is nod.

The tension is thick, heavy, and when you look up at him (because how can you not), you feel like you are being sucked into a whirlpool. Those oceanic eyes take you in so quickly, you barely remember your nerves from a moment ago, the events that pushed you here, or even your own name.

His other hand plays with the scarf at your neck. “I’m glad you’re here,” he breathes, pulling you up into a kiss, his lips brushing yours softly.

You melt into him with a small sigh, your palms on his chest, clutching the front of his robe. God, you’re a goner and you’ve barely been here a minute. He smiles against your mouth, pleased by your response.

“I gotta shower, baby, then I’m all yours,” he says, kissing you lightly on the cheek. You must look disappointed because he chuckles, “Trust me, baby, ya’ want me to shower,” then he playfully swats you on the ass.

“Elvis!” you yip and squirm a little, as the arousal that’s been building in you the past two hours is nearly unbearable now that you are this close to him, now that you can smell and touch him. You are sure he knows this by the sly grin he gives you as he spins around and turns on the water in the tiny shower. When he strips off his robe, you gawk for a moment and then nearly follow him in the shower, and probably would have, too, except it barely held his tall frame, much less a second person. Though you soon have quite the view through the glass door as he lathers his body with soap, and suddenly, being out here isn’t so bad.

“You’re awful quiet, y/n,” he says, eyes closed, as the water streams over his head, then down his face and lean body. You bite your lip and lean back on the counter, watching as the rivulets cascade down his tan, perfect frame. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, desperate for friction.

“I’m enjoying the show,” you say. It comes out sultry, so much so that Elvis turns to look at you over the top of the door, wiping the water out of his eyes. He then looks down, realizing the door is glass, and laughs that beautiful laugh of his.

“You dirty, peepin’ Tom! Here I thought you were a nice girl,” he tsks.

“Oh, no. I can be quite naughty,” you reply, openly staring at his wet, naked form. The moment it’s out of your mouth, you can’t believe you said it, and based on the way his eyes widen, he can’t either. You don’t know what’s gotten into you.

Yes, you do.

Immediately, your cheeks are on fire, but then his eyes shift from surprise to lust and that warmth, that coil in your lower belly begins tightening in earnest.

“Pull your dress up for me, baby,” he says.

“What?”

“You heard me. Lean back and pull that sexy little dress up your thighs,” he commands. His voice is serious and deep, his eyes darkening. He’s never talked to you like this, but it sends a warm thrill right down your center, pooling at your core.

You can’t help but do what he asks and start to shimmy your dress up until your panties are almost showing.

“Further,” he demands, watching you carefully as you obey, your lacy, black underwear now on full display. Your heart thrums with anticipation in your chest.

“Hmm,” he tuts approvingly. “Scooch back on the counter and lean against the mirror.”

You follow his directions, hopping up, the marble countertop cold on the bare backs of your thighs. You watch as he slowly washes his body, taking his sweet time, a sexy quirk of his eyebrow telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing, though you aren’t privy just yet to the inner workings of his mind.

“Put your heels on the counter and spread wide for me,” his baritone vibrates, becoming thick with lust. You do as asked, feeling incredibly exposed. You don’t think your face could get any redder at this point.

“Good girl. Now, reach into those pretty panties and touch yourself,” he orders. At first, you think you must have misheard him, he couldn’t possibly be asking you to…

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he barks, though the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you all need to know.

Normally, you’d feel mortified at this, but he’s bringing out a side of you you’ve never encountered before. Slowly, bashfully, you reach down under the waistband of your panties, discovering quickly that they are already embarrassingly soaked and have been for some time. You find the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes flutter closed when you finally have that friction you’ve been aching for.

“Nuh uh. Look at me,” Elvis commands. Your eyes pop open and you see his attention is fixed on you, gaze dark and wanting, his body rigid and still, as you rub circles on your clit. It’s absolutely obscene and maybe the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Run your fingers down your pussy, then pull them out and show me how wet you are,” he orders, his voice gruff. You do as you are told, running your fingers through your folds and pulling them out of your underwear to show him. They glisten, sticky with your arousal.

“Tell me why you’re so wet, baby,” he demands with an eagerness that thrills you.

“Apparently, watching you perform for an hour and a half gets me all hot and bothered,” you reply honestly, demurely.

He groans then, turning the shower off. “Take them off. Take off your panties.” It’s still an order, but a little breathless, hurried this time.

You obey, but slowly, making a show of hooking your fingers, pulling them off your hips, and shimmying them down your legs before disposing them on the floor. You place your heels back on the counter, leaving your core completely exposed to him. He’s trying to keep his face serious, neutral to your advances, but you can see him start to crack, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip, his eyes ablaze.

“Look at me and pleasure yourself.” The command is heated, fierce, wanting, making your heart beat faster. You make a point of running your fingers through the ample wetness that has gathered between your thighs before setting to task on your clit. You nearly falter under his intense gaze, biting your lip to keep yourself with him.

Beyond the steam-fogged glass, you can make out when Elvis grabs his cock in his hand and starts to lazily tug on it, and that in and of itself sends a surge of heat through you that has you quickening your pace. A quiet, “oh,” escapes your lips and, seeing your arousal at his actions, he makes more of a show of jerking himself off.

“Use your other hand, your fingers, honey,” he utters, fully breathless now. You reach down, doing something you’ve never done to yourself before, and insert a digit into your weeping hole. It slides in effortlessly and you moan, unable to keep your eyes open.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough. You can’t reach the places you need to and only succeed in bringing yourself somewhat close to the edge. Your eyes fly open, and you watch him and his gorgeous, perfect self as he jerks off to you, and it’s not nearly enough.

“I…Elvis…I need you,” you finally whimper and that’s all it takes. He’s out of the shower and his long legs cross the space between you in an instant.

“I got you, baby,” he says, placing his wet body between your open legs before sliding two long fingers straight and deep into your pussy. You cry out loudly at the welcome intrusion, and his jaw clenches as he begins relentlessly thrusting, pumping into you, his other hand furiously working your clit. He’s so completely focused on you, his brow furrowed, and then he leans forward and begins sucking and lapping at your upper lip with his tongue.

Oh, god, that coil inside you, the one that’s been building for hours, is so tight, so ready to explode and he’s only just touched you. His wet tongue expertly mimics the motion of his fingers, and the sensation drives you straight to the edge of the cliff.

The wave of heat is building, building so high as he finds that one spot deep inside you, curving his finger the slightest bit. As soon as he hits it, that’s it for you—your entire body bucks off the counter, pushing him even deeper into your clenching heat. You can barely breathe, clinging to his wet shoulders as if your life depended on it, those stars from a few nights ago making a reappearance behind your closed eyes. Finally, that denied, coiled heat explodes inside you, your entire body shuddering hard, over and over, against him, around his fingers, with a strangled cry of release.

“Oh, yeah, baby. That’s my good girl,” Elvis coos in your ear as he pulls his fingers out of you. You are still flying high, high above, aftershocks of pleasure radiating through you, as he pulls you off the counter and into his still-wet arms.

“Baby, whatchur doin’ to me…need you so damn bad, and I ain’t got it in me to be very gentle ri’ now,” he mutters, accent thick and barely understandable, his lips dragging on your neck. You moan into him, and he flips you around, his hands roaming up and under your sequined dress. Quickly, he walks you forward a few steps until your breasts are against the bathroom wall. He moves in behind you until he’s pressing the length of his wet body into you, trapping you against the wall with his comforting weight, his cock hard against your ass.

Roughly, Elvis uses his knee to open your thighs from behind. You are delirious with him, the feel of him, still reeling and sensitive from your orgasm. Without warning, he thrusts into you from behind so hard you nearly see stars again.

“Ohmigod, Elvis!” you cry out, pushing back against the wall with your palms, raising up in your heels on your tip toes to try and accommodate the surprise of his length.

“Fuck, honey…why you gotta be so tight and wet for me, lil’ mama?” he murmurs into your neck, drunk on you, one arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him, the other hand next to yours on the wall. True to his word, he is not gentle: he begins to drive into you hard, his grunts and groans heated in your ear, the sound alone swirling down your body and reigniting your core.

Still reeling from your climax, you can’t help the punctuated, high-pitched sighs escaping you with each deep press of his cock into you. You are so full of him that it’s uncomfortable despite your wetness, but with each thrust, you adjust around him, taking all of him the best you can. Desperate for purchase, your fingernails dig and scratch at the plaster as he takes you from behind, fucking you into the wall.

Perhaps noticing your discomfort, Elvis pulls on your hips, walking you both back a bit until you are angled, palms sprawled against the wall, ass fully entrenched in his pelvis. It is somewhat more comfortable, and the grip he has on your hips eases slightly. He slows a bit, intoxicated by consuming you with each inch of his long dick.

“Look, honey,” he pulls your attention over your left shoulder. You see the two of you reflected in the large mirror over the counter, both panting and flushed, joined in the most intimate of ways. It startles you a little, how undeniably sexy it is.

“Goddamn, look atchu, doll, so beautiful and takin’ my cock so good,” Elvis breathes, watching you and watching himself fuck you in the mirror. He is so gorgeous, so completely aroused, that you can’t pull your eyes away. The way his pouty mouth puckers and his eyelids drop so you can see the fan of those long, dark lashes, how his body still drips with water from the shower. The sight of him taking you like this has tingles coursing through you, every nerve on edge and on fire. He begins to thrust harder, and your eyes roll back as he hits that spot, the one only he seems able to hit.

You can’t watch anymore because you are too overstimulated as it is with the feel of him plowing into you, hands digging into your hips. You begin to push back into him, meeting his thrusts now, your arms and legs starting to shake with the effort and pleasure. You don’t even recognize the sounds coming from your throat, a mixture of moans and the whisper of his name over and over, like a mantra.

With his deliciously relentless fucking, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold this position. Your arms are beginning to give way and your legs tremble uncontrollably. “E…E…I..can’t…hold myself…,” you breathe out in between thrusts.

“Sorry, baby,” he says apologetically, “Too excited.” He pulls out of you, brings you upright, and turns you around in his arms. You practically fall into him as he presses your back into the wall, using his naked body to support you. Grateful, you take the moment to look into his eyes, to push his dripping wet hair back off his forehead, brush the water from his cheeks. Your chests heave, mouths so close his breath mingles with yours, the tension still thick between you.

Then his lips are hot on yours, messy and wet and needy and all you can do is give in completely. Your body melts into his, dizzy with him, limbs weak. His strong arms wrap around you, keeping you against him, not letting you fall. He kisses you like you are the last woman on earth, like this is his last day on earth. In this moment, there is nothing else but Elvis and how he is making your body sing. Never in your life have you felt like this—so dangerous, untethered, vulnerable.

Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosting over your face, he whispers, “I need you, y/n.”

God, it’s so raw, so true, and you’re not sure if he means physically or emotionally or both, but in any case, it makes your heart fly.

You look deep into his eyes, so he knows you mean it. “Then take me, Elvis.” It comes out breathless, sensual.

He picks you up by the waist and lays you on the counter, nestling between your thighs, his hands massaging up them, lifting your dress back up to your waist. Brushing his fingers lightly over your clit, your wet heat, he teases you. You arch up in response, hungry for him, any part of him.

He knows it. Grabbing his cock, he slides it up through the wetness of your folds, using the swollen tip to draw circles on your clit. You gasp in response, still so sensitive, and he feels oh, so good.

“You like that, baby?” he purrs.

“Mm hmm,” is all you can manage to get out as you undulate your hips. You can see he’s struggling to be gentle, struggling to hold it together for you, so you give him what he needs, what you both need.

“Fuck me, please,” you mewl, moving his cock to your entrance.

Elvis growls, gritty and deep, as he plunges into you. You are ready for him this time, taking his length more easily in this position. The counter is cold and hard under your back, but you don’t care as you wind your hand between you and rub your clit in time to his unyielding thrusts. He looks wild above you, his raven hair dripping, eyes feral. You’ve never seen him like this before, and it sends shivers through you. They shoot down your spine, your arms, your legs, to your fingers and toes, curling around the unending heat that builds in your lower belly, encasing him within you.

You notice how his eyes dart up to watch himself fuck you in the mirror before looking directly at you, up and down, up and down. He can’t get enough of you, can’t get enough of watching himself get enough of you, and putting two and two together, it comes to you.

He likes to watch.

Interesting. But you don’t have time to dwell on it because then he’s putting his knee onto the counter outside of your leg (damn, all that karate has made him flexible), pulling you forward, and lifting your hips, gaining a whole different kind of leverage. His next thrust is so deep you feel like you are going to fly off the edge of the world. You vaguely hear yourself crying out his name but are so completely consumed, so fucking filled that there is nothing you can process other than his dick inside you and the frantic speed of your fingers trying to keep up.

Your orgasm hits so hard and so fast that you don’t even have time to warn him, your whole body just tenses so tight and then he hits that spot, and everything turns red hot before you shatter. A strangled cry comes from your throat, and you shudder, your walls squeezing his cock hard.

“Oh, jesus fuck, woman!” he groans, unprepared for the way your body flutters around him. “Huh, huh,” he pants, trying to hold on, but he can’t stop what’s coming. You feel your pussy milk him for all he’s worth as his hips stutter into yours with one last deep thrust. His mouth clenches, then goes slack jawed with an eye-rolling moan.

“Oh, god. Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, accent drawling, eyes closed as he stands over you. If you could speak, you’d likely be saying the same thing, but your body is rubber and you are speechless.

Finally, he comes back into himself, opening his eyes dreamily, looking down at you, completely sexed. You can only imagine you look the same, based on how you feel.

He pulls out and helps you to sit up. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” hums almost reverently, caressing your cheek, looking down at you through those impossibly long lashes. Then he bows down and kisses you sweetly.

The sentiment is not lost on you, even in your sexed-out haze. Elvis Presley thinks you of all people are beautiful.

Elvis hands you a washcloth off the counter, then dries himself off, running the towel through his wet hair, making it fluffy. You clean up and put yourself back together, pulling your dress down and straightening the pink scarf at your neck. He throws on his robe, and as you reach for your long-discarded panties, he swoops them up before you can grab them.

“Elvis, give me my underwear, please,” you say, putting your hand out and lifting an eyebrow.

“Nope, they’re mine now, woman,” he grins slyly.

“E, I need them!” you protest with a laugh, reaching for them. “I don’t have that many pairs with me here in Vegas!”

He just shakes his head and holds them up out of your reach. “I’ll buy you a thousand new pairs, baby, but these ones are mine,” he says, then kisses the tip of your nose.

“Seriously?! Elvis, you’re just gonna let me walk around the hotel with no underwear on with you…leaking out of me?” you vehemently whisper the last part. It’s completely scandalous to you.

He nods, “Precisely, baby.” Standing in the doorway, he makes a show of bringing the panties up to his nose and takes a deep, long whiff. The look on his face turns from joking to heated in an instant as he locks eyes with you and puts the panties into the pocket of his robe. “I’m gonna think of it all night long and into tomorrow.”

After what you two just did in the bathroom, you didn’t think you could blush any harder, but you feel your face heat up with the suggestion of what he’s saying. His eyes sparkle at you with that wicked grin on his face and you know you’ve lost this battle.

It doesn’t stop you from huffing a little, though. If he hadn’t just completely wrecked you and if you weren’t flooded with happy hormones, you might fight him on it, but you both know it’s not going to happen.

“Well, fine. I’m gonna to shower then,” you decide. Turning from him, you unzip your dress, let it fall to the floor, and unhook your bra to do the same. This leaves you in only the pink scarf that is still tied around your neck. You know your backside is on full display and you can feel Elvis’ eyes burning on you. Without looking at him, you make a little show of unknotting the scarf, holding it out to the side, and letting it flutter to the ground.

A wolf whistle comes from the doorway. “Remind me to take your undergarments more often, lil’ mama,” he jokes, but there is a passionate nature to it. “And damn if giving you that scarf wasn’t the best decision I ever made.” You just throw him a smile over your shoulder, grab a washcloth, and turn on the shower.

Your body still feels like rubber, and your back is a little sore from the hard counter, so you opt to take it slow, relishing the feel of the hot water on your muscles. You try to make sense of what’s going on in your head, but you just can’t, not yet, brain too foggy from sex. You’ve only had sex with him twice and Elvis is already expanding your horizons quite a bit in that area. It’s like you didn’t truly know what good sex even was before you experienced it with him. The aftermath leaves you a little lightheaded.

In your daze, you don’t even notice that you’ve started singing since it is just something you always do when in the shower (or in the car, or when you’re happy). You’ve always loved to sing, though you were usually shy about it unless you were singing with a group. Music is something that has always been a part of your life, especially growing up. You and your siblings all played various instruments, yours mainly being piano.

Part of what draws you to Elvis as a person is that shared love for music—feeling that passion behind the beat of the drums or the pull of the violin, or how a voice could invoke such pure emotion with interpretation and sound. Music has the power to make people cry or feel joy or take them back in time, which is just such an amazing thing, you think. And Elvis has the gift to draw people in with his charisma, but they stay because of the beauty of his artistry. His is a once-in-a-generation type talent—innate, raw, and self-taught.

Perhaps that is why seeing him live has affected you so much mentally and physically, you wonder. Of course, you’ve heard him sing and play at Graceland many times over the years, which was wonderful in its own right. You’d even played the piano for him a few times and chimed in with the others on some songs. You’d heard his records and seen some of his movies. But something about seeing him live with that full band and orchestra, seeing the excitement in him, hearing the growth in his voice and as a musician, it just does something to you beyond the norm.

As is evident by how you showed up here tonight, ready to eat him alive.

You step out of the shower, singing louder than you realize, lost in thought. Suddenly, a towel appears, wrapping around you out of nowhere, startling you out of your head.

Elvis’ arms circle around you from behind, his head burying in the crook of your neck.

“Now how come I never knew what a beautiful voice you got, sweetheart?” his raspy voice rumbles in your ear.

You are slightly mortified, blood rushing to your cheeks, realizing that Elvis Presley, one of the best vocalists on the planet, was just privy to your private shower-concert. Your embarrassment has you flustering.

“Oh, god, you’re just saying that to be nice,” you murmur, covering your face. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking...”

“Sorry? Oh, there’ll be none of that, honey. Don’t you dare apologize to me for singin’ your lil’ heart out,” he says sternly, turning you around to face him. He puts a finger underneath your chin, tilting it so you have to look him in the eye. “It was lovely. In fact, I think I’ll need to hear it more from now on.”

“Elvis,” you begin, disbelievingly. Your self-conscious heart pounds in your chest, wanting to shirk off everything he’s saying. But looking into those azure blues, you are surprised to see not an ounce of sarcasm or teasing. “That’s very kind of you to say. I’m just really shy about people hearing me sing,” you say quietly.

He nods in understanding, dropping his finger and wrapping his arms around your waist instead. “Y’know, back before I got big, I’d turn off all the lights and turn my back before singin’ or playin’ in front of anyone.” His eyes cloud a little, as if he’s picturing it in his head.

“What? Seriously?” you ask, totally surprised.

“Yep. And to this day, honey, I still gotta have someone push me out on that stage every night, I get so damn scared,” he tells you honestly. You think of all that nervous energy in the first few songs of his shows, and it starts to make sense.

“I’ll tell ya’—and don’t go tellin’ this to no one—opening night, I almost didn’t even make it out there. I was losin’ my mind so damn bad I thought I was gonna die,” he says, dead serious. His eyes look a little wild just talking about it.

You pause. “Well, I guess if you can brave a crowd of thousands, I can live with the embarrassment of having you hear me sing in the shower,” you say gently, “and thank you for sharing that with me.” You smile and, cupping his cheek, pull him down for a soft kiss.

“Mmm…Come on, honey.” He grabs your hand and pulls you back into the larger dressing room with him. There’s a huge, deep couch on the side of the room and he brings you down to sit, curling you up in his lap.

You melt into him, sighing in relief as you continue to recover (from both the sex and your embarrassment), leaning your head against his shoulder. He leans his cheek into the top of your head, just holding you close. You close your eyes and pause, trying to commit this to memory, this feeling, everything about him. Breathing him in, you notice for the first time that even without his signature cologne, he has a distinctly ‘Elvis’ smell—Neutrogena soap plus his own delicious, manly musk. His heart beats strong and steady under your palm. His hand warm and comforting upon your thigh. It’s all Elvis, and right now, he’s all yours.

How strange, you think, that you have known him for so long, and yet feel like you are experiencing him anew every day. You realize that you may have more in common with him than you previously thought.

He breaks the silence, interrupting your nearly meditative state.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back to me,” he says quietly, his hand gently weaving through your hair.

It’s so honest, so vulnerable, that you are shocked.

It is tempting to see Elvis as a man who never has to worry about someone coming to him because he is The Elvis Presley, especially when he projects the image of the confident, macho, self-assured superstar, sometimes very much buying into his own hype. However, having known him for as long as you have, you know that is mostly bravado and façade. You can see past all that ego to the shy, nervous, sometimes insecure young man you knew was beneath everything else. Someone afraid to disappoint his fans and those around him. Someone who cared deeply for those close to him. Someone who was afraid of being left alone.

You just never assumed he would think such a thing about you.

Fiddling with the stitching on his robe, you try to form a coherent thought. “I almost didn’t,” you reply honestly.

He stills, voice soft. “What changed your mind?”

You are not ready to share that, not yet. “It’s complicated,” you say, then move to look into his eyes, “but I’m here now.”

And the way he looks at you with those shining blue eyes, as if you are the only one that matters, makes you want to stay here in his arms forever. And it causes your heart to break a little because you know you can’t.

You know it’s not that simple, not at all.

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#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #Pink Scarf #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #austin!elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley imagine #elvis fic #elvis 2022 #elvis movie

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emotionalcadaver · 6 months

Text

A Brief Overview of Tommy & Lucy's Horses

Tommy and Lucy own many horses over the course of the series, so I thought I’d put together a little overview of them with their names, breeds, and some details about their personalities.

These are their personal horses that they keep at the stables at Arrow House or Charlie’s yard, and not the race horses that they have boarded with and trained by May. Many, if not all, of these horses will appear or at least be mentioned at some point in my Lucy x Tommy series, and I might add to this list in the future, but these are the ones I imagine them having at the moment.

I made an effort to keep this post spoiler free, so even if you haven’t read any parts of my series, you shouldn’t have to worry about getting anything spoiled.

Also please note I’m not an expert on horses, so apologies for any inaccuracies!

Wraith

Coloring: Completely black

Gender: Male

Personality: Standoffish, temperamental, distrusting, protective, secretly very affectionate

Other Notes: A stallion with a temper, Wraith was acquired as a very young horse by Tommy shortly after he returned from war. He was originally going to be put down, since his temperament made him too difficult for his owners to handle, but Tommy bought him and brought him to Charlie’s yard, where he worked with him regularly every day until Wraith grew to trust him. He suspects that he may have been abused at his previous home, resulting in the behavioral issues.

After Lucy arrived in Birmingham, she snuck into the stables at Charlie’s yard to get away from the rain, and fell asleep beside Wraith. When Charlie found her the next day, he was taken aback at how the usually distrusting horse had allowed her to snuggle up to him in the night, and how he grew protective of her when Charlie tried to approach them. This was in large part why Charlie offered her a job at the yard, and what initially intrigued Tommy about her after Charlie told him of the incident.

Outside of Tommy and Lucy, Wraith forever remains standoffish to most people, and is known to rear when carrying unfamiliar riders, or even try to kick them. But he has a particular soft spot for Lucy, Tommy, and the other horses. Of all the horses, he is closest with Sin.

Wraith is Tommy’s favorite horse to ride, and the one he has the closest bond with. He is the strongest and biggest of all the horses in the stable.

He is the horse seen at the beginning of season 5.

Sin

Coloring: Chestnut with a white stripe down her nose and a white back left foot

Gender: Female

Personality: Originally very skittish, after lots of work grew to be even tempered, playful, sweet, and affectionate

Other Notes: Sin was abused by her former owner, and when she was rescued and taken back to Birmingham by Lucy and Tommy, she was originally very skittish and fearful. It was with a significant amount of work that they were able to earn her trust, and she eventually became one of the friendliest and sweetest horses in their stable. She gets along with all other horses, but is particularly close with Wraith, who is intensely protective of her.

Sin is Lucy’s favorite horse to ride, and the pair are deeply bonded. She is particularly cuddly and grows very excited whenever she sees Lucy or Tommy, often trotting over to them if she’s out in the pasture, or whinnying happily if in the stable. She will also often cuddle or nuzzle the other horses, and is rarely on her own; sticking close to either Wraith or Mystery.

She is the most playful of all of their horses, and will often entice Wraith to play with her when out on the pastures. She is also the most emotionally sensitive; often the first to sense when either Lucy or Tommy are upset and making efforts to comfort them.

Mystery

Coloring: Dappled gray

Gender: Female

Personality: Wild, gentle, show off, frisky, high energy

Other Notes: Mystery is a retired racehorse. May had originally intended to take her on after hearing from a friend that she was being retired, but she was at capacity at her stables at the time, and so asked Tommy and Lucy if they would be interested in her.

Mystery has a wildness to her and a tendency to show off, which comes out particularly when she is out on the pastures and free to run about. She adores children and is very gentle and cuddly with them. Of all the horses, she is the one most willing to let anyone ride her, and she has lots of energy that demands she either been ridden regularly or allowed to run around for a significant part of the day. She loves games and will often play with Sin. She and Phantom are quite close, with Mystery's more hyper personality helping to draw Phantom out of his shell. While Wraith has never been aggressive towards her, he can grow annoyed at times over how overexuberant she can be.

She is the fastest horse in the Arrow House stables.

Phantom

Coloring: Completely white

Gender: Male

Personality: Calm, solitary, melancholic, shy, timid, intelligent

Other Notes: Phantom was retired early from racing after suffering an injury on the track. Lucy and Tommy took him in when May informed them that his owner did not want him anymore following the injury and the vet’s recommendation that he no longer race. At Arrow House they got him the best care and he made a full recovery.

While he gets along well with the other horses, Phantom is also more solitary, often wandering off on his own when let out of the pasture, and rarely playing with the other horses. He doesn’t tend to approach other people unless they have food to offer him.

Shy and timid, Phantom can be quite skittish, but grows more confident the more Lucy and Tommy worked with him. Mystery also helps to draw him from his shell, and is the only one of the horses that can get him to play. He enjoys stimulating games and toys, and Lucy often suspects he is secretly the most intelligent of their horses.

He is the white horse seen at the end of season 6.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #lucy winters #tommy shelby x oc #my ocs #horses #wraith #sin #mystery #phantom #my headcanons

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thewritingbeforesunrise · 1 year

Text

BALLERINA - Chapter One.

A Jake Kiszka AU

Pairing: Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character

A/N: As promised, this is the first chapter of the story about ballet dancer Iris and physiotherapist Jake. I apologize in advance for any mistakes and I really hope you like this. I had this idea in my mind for quite some time, I am so happy to finally be able to share it with you. This story is a slowburn.

Don't hesitate to let me know what you think about this!

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings for this chapter: talking of bad injuries and medical stuff (I am not an expert, so I apologise for any inaccuracies), poor mental health, talking of depression, death and suicide (only hinted at), panic attack, Jake is a sweetheart.

I think that's all. Let me know if I missed something.

If you are interested, you can join my general taglist here.

_________________________________

Dancing had always been one of Iris's biggest passions, ever since she was very little.

As far as she could remember, she always danced.

Even her mother told her so.

Even before learning how to walk properly, she would stumble around dancing to every kind of sound she heard.

Even the random advertising jingles she heard on television spurred her on to move in rhythm.

So it was obvious for Iris, and for everyone else around her, that when she had to decide which career to pursue in her life, she had chosen dancing.

She had to make many sacrifices, but the satisfaction she felt because of her talent and dedication repaid her for every night spent practicing and every party she had to skip through her teenage years, to pursue her dream to become a ballet dancer.

Iris absolutely lived and breathed dancing and she couldn't even imagine what would become of her if she couldn't dance anymore.

It was a wintery Saturday evening like many others.

It was very late and the weather was awful.

There was a thin layer of snow on the pavement that creaked softly under her every step.

Big cottony flakes were falling slowly all around her, making her cheeks sting every time one touched her skin, like invisible freezing kisses.

Iris had been practicing a very difficult part for an upcoming audition she had been both dreading and longing for almost three years.

And she was absolutely knackered because of how many times she replayed it alone in her practice room.

She was finally heading home, to her little rented flat.

It wasn't that far away but she was walking fast anyway.

It was cold and she just wanted to shower and go straight to bed wrapped up in a soft blanket.

She was crossing a road on the pedestrian crossing and, suddenly, she was blinded by white headlights that weren't there a second before.

She heard the loud screeching of tires and the sound of a car swerving onto the pavement and a loud crash.

Then darkness swallowed her and everything around her.

She woke up in an anonymous hospital room, after two days of complete unconsciousness. She knew this because a nurse happened to be in her room when she woke and told her with a grimace that it was Monday.

The last day she remembered something from was Saturday.

Her head hurt, but she could feel pain everywhere.

She had IVs in both arms.

She took a while to focus on her surroundings, also because her eyes kept closing. It was so difficult to keep them open for more than two seconds without having to close them, due to the bright light coming from the windows.

She suspected it had also something to do with the analgesic they were probably keeping her on, to make her pain somewhat bearable.

She didn't remember anything so started to panic because she didn't recognise her surroundings.

The nurse approached her immediately and tried to comfort her.

"Where am I?" She asked her feebly in a whisper.

"You are at Saint James hospital darling, you were brought here at two in the morning two days ago." The nurse replied gently, trying not to scare her more, treating her like a caged wild animal.

Iris tried to move, but felt a jolt of pain in her right leg.

"No no, darling, don't move," the nurse said, worried.

This time Iris asked her the question she dreaded the answer the most.

"Why am I here?" The girl inquired, voice shaking.

The kind nurse didn't answer her, but the sorrowful expression in her eyes told her everything she needed to know.

She panicked even more.

She could hear the heartrate monitor beeping like crazy on her left. She started to shift her gaze down her body and noticed that her arms were scattered with deep blue bruises and cuts.

Then, with a swift motion, she moved the covers aside and froze.

She had a big loose white t-shirt on that didn't cover her lower half.

It wasn't hers.

Her legs were covered in cuts and bruises, but what made her start crying and her stomach churn were the white bandages around her right leg, starting below her hip and going down to her calf.

The nurse was still next to her and Iris grabbed her arm strongly, stopping her before she could inject another tranquiliser into her IV.

She wanted to be conscious when the nurse answered her question. The girl watched her right in the eyes and spoke.

"What happened?" She asked again through sobs.

"Darling, you were brought here after a car hit you in the middle of the street on Saturday night. Now it is Monday afternoon. You were unconscious for two days." She said and Iris couldn't stand the pity in her voice.

She pressed her further.

"What happened to my leg?" She gestured down to it with a grimace, fearing her answer.

"I am going to call the doctor, he will tell you everything" and before she could stop her, she disappeared down the corridor.

Iris started sobbing again and she lightly touched the bandages.

She winced at the pain and retrieved her hand, immediately.

At that moment a doctor entered the room.

He was a tall, middle-aged man with kind

eyes.

"Miss, you are awake, finally" he said.

Iris didn't even answer his greeting.

She went straight to the point.

"What happened to my leg?" She asked, her voice was harsh and cold.

He watched her closely then answered honestly.

"A car hit you in the middle of the street a couple of blocks away from here. They left you there without calling an ambulance, but some people saw the incident and called the hospital. The doctors stabilized you and then brought you here. You haven't suffered any kind of brain damage, but you have a concussion and your leg was broken in two different places." He came closer and motioned to her bandages.

"You suffered the fracture of the femur and of tibia and fibula, here and here" he pointed at her leg but she didn't see him do that.

She didn't even hear him finish his explanation.

In the middle of his speech her brain had stopped working.

She was transfixed.

The word fracture was burning in bold letters in her mind every time she blinked.

She started to panic seriously.

She almost yanked away all her IVs and the nurses and the doctor had to physically hold her down to prevent further damages.

Iris felt something sting in her leg and the bandages started to soak with dark blood.

She was screaming horribly like a mad woman and they had to sedate her.

Everything around her turned dark again.

Once Iris re-emerged from deep induced sleep, she felt even more tired than before.

She couldn't keep her eyes open and her head straight.

She didn't even have the strength to speak.

She heard a voice next to her.

She recognised it.

It was the same nurse, she was telling her something she couldn't understand.

Iris felt her hand lightly brush away her hair from her face.

She felt like crying.

She remembered everything that happened and the physical and psychological pain immediately cleared her mind, unfortunately.

She didn't want to think about it.

She didn't want to think, at all.

At that moment, she wished that the car had killed her instead of leaving her like this.

Alive but damaged.

Deep down, she already knew she wouldn't be able to dance anymore.

A friend of hers some years prior had to quit for minor injuries.

Her heart was broken, her dream too, what was the point of living?

She didn't have one anymore.

She started sobbing and the nurse tried to comfort her.

Iris held onto her and she cried all her tears.

Once she didn't have any more tears left to cry, she fell asleep with the worst headache ever.

The next morning Iris woke up really early.

The nurses had called her mother and she was right by her side.

She told her that she was there for a brief moment even the day before but they sent her away because she needed rest.

The sun wasn't even out and Iris's eyes were already open.

She had still that terrible headache, due to the longest crying session she had ever had.

Her mother told her that she was going to get a coffee and asked if she wanted something too.

The girl told her no but her mother left with an expression that was telling her she was going to bring her something anyway.

Since there was nobody around, with trembling hands, Iris decided to push away the covers and inspect her injuries again, trying not to have another panic attack in the process.

She gasped loudly when she saw the clean bandages for the second time.

This time the length of her leg wasn't all wrapped up in white gauze, like the other day.

This time her skin was free, big white patches covered two points of her bruised leg.

She thought about the deep wounds that they were covering and she felt a little sick.

Right when she was about to cover herself again, the doctor arrived.

"Good Morning Miss, I didn't want to disturb you, but since you are already awake…I came here because I wanted to know how you are feeling today" he said with a calm tone.

Iris didn't know what to say so she opted for the truth.

"I am a bit in pain, and I am very worried" she told him and then she gathered the courage to ask him the question she had been dreading for the entire time she was conscious.

The one that she already knew the answer to.

"Please be honest with me, will I be able to dance again?" Her voice was so feeble she didn't know if he heard her right.

He sat down on the chair on the other side of the bed, facing the one her mother was occupying a few minutes before.

Her hands were visibly trembling and he noticed.

After a moment, he answered.

"You want me to be honest and I am going to be." He said, while touching his glasses.

"I don't know. All I can tell you is that, with a lot of rehabilitation, you will be able to stand and walk just like before, but I can't say anything about dancing. I don't want to get your hopes up, but I don't want to tell you you won't dance anymore, either." He said matter-of-factly.

Iris nodded at his words, tears already clouding her vision.

"Right now, you have to focus on starting to walk again and you will need a lot of strength to do that. You have to focus all the effort you used on dancing on walking, first. And I am here also to talk about this. We have a physiotherapist here that can help you. And..." He stopped as someone knocked on the door.

At that moment, her mother entered the room.

She had a small paper bag with her and she placed it in front of Iris. The girl thanked her and told her what the doctor said when she was away.

The doctor went on talking about the physiotherapist and he told her that he was going to bring him there to talk to her, too.

Iris was worried and scared.

He went out of the room to call him and she

waited.

After a moment, he reappeared on the threshold with a young man next to him.

They stopped there for a moment, talking quietly.

Her breath catched in her throat

The physiotherapist was very young and, honestly, beautiful.

He had long brown hair tied in a low ponytail, sweet brown eyes and a perfect smile.

They approached her and he smiled, making her blush.

He was gorgeous and she was beyond embarrassed by her reaction.

Iris was sure she was looking miserable and ugly in her hospital attire and messy hair, so she tried to get herself together as best as she could.

She heard her mother mutter something not very nice about his long hair.

"Mum, sshh" she hushed her with a sharp look.

Unfortunately, he caught the comment, she saw it in his eyes that he did, but he acted very politely and didn't say anything.

"This is Doctor Jacob Kiszka, he will be your physiotherapist. He will help you with your rehabilitation. He knows everything about what happened to you because he was in surgery with me when I operated on you" The doctor introduced him to her and the young man smiled kindly, extending his hand towards her.

Iris grabbed his extended hand. It was so warm and soft in contrast with her ice-cold skin.

It was over too soon for her liking.

She had to forcefully avert her eyes from his, his deep brown stare was too intense. The doctor left him there with her and excused himself to answer the phone.

When the young doctor started talking, a warm shiver ran down her spine.

His raspy voice made her fingers fist the white hospital linen in her lap.

"Hi, Iris. You can call me Jake, we are the same age, no need to call me Doctor." He said smiling and she timidly smiled back to him.

"I will take care of you and your leg, don't worry. May I inspect the wounds? I just want to see how they are healing, so I can tell you when we can start with rehabilitation." He said in a warm calming tone.

He was so polite.

She nodded and he grabbed the cover and pulled it off her body gently, exposing her naked right leg.

She wasn't wearing pants, so she was laying in front of him in her panties and a big white t-shirt. He seemed unfazed as he focused on the bandages.

"Madam, may I ask you to exit while I inspect your daughter's wounds, please?" He spoke to her mother.

Considering her mother's rude comment about him, he was still very polite towards her.

Her mother had to do what he said even though she didn't want to, because his tone didn't admit any contradictions.

When she was out of the room, Iris quickly apologized on her behalf and he laughed.

"Don't worry about it, darling" he said with a beaming smile and then spoke again, focused on her leg.

"Do you mind if I take these off?" He asked, pointing at her bandages.

Seeing the terror in her eyes, he quickly added "I won't hurt you, I promise."

"I am not afraid of the bandage" she told him in a whisper.

"I am afraid of what I am going to see underneath… but go on, I will be ok" Iris knew she wouldn't, but she didn't tell him.

He touched her thigh, his fingers brushed directly on her naked skin, making her shiver and goosebumps raise on her skin.

He started to peel off the bandage, very delicately and carefully.

Once he was done, Iris looked down and covered her mouth with a gasp at the sight underneath.

There was a very long cut down the side of her thigh, the black stitches standing out sharply against her skin. The wound was rimmed with slightly pinker skin. The bandage was clean, the wound was finally healing.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

She cleared her throat and answered with a timid "Yes".

He inspected the cut and, after a moment, he spoke.

"It's healing, but it should be a little more by now" he said, inspecting the wound closely.

"Oh, it's my fault, on Monday I had a nervous breakdown and it started bleeding because I tried to move and they had to sedate me". Iris told him sheepishly, casting her gaze on her hands, embarrassed.

He grabbed some disinfectant and dabbed at it lightly. She flinched a little because of the cold and he apologized.

"You don't have to apologize about what happened on Monday, ok? But, please, be careful with your movements from now on, since your wounds are healing very well. I was there when the doctor operated on you and the fractures looked horrible. Both displaced fractures" He tapped lightly on her thigh, then grabbed a big white envelope and showed her the x-rays.

Iris was shocked.

Her femur, tibia and fibula were snapped in a half.

"Don't worry, the doctor did a great job with your leg. This is the new x-ray" he said, grabbing another envelope.

There were many screws in her bones and it hurt just to look at it, but, at least, the bones were in one piece again. His hands went back to her leg and moved down on her knee.

There, he carefully took off the other bandage and inspected the other wound. It wasn't as big as the other one but still, she had at least fifteen stitches there. He dabbed a bit of disinfectant there, too, and then spoke.

"I think it is better if we wait two weeks before doing some rehabilitation. I am sure that, in two weeks' time, your bones and wounds will be fully healed." He said smiling kindly to her.

Iris was a bit disappointed.

She didn't want to wait two weeks before being able to see him again, but she nodded anyway.

"Now I am going to replace your bandages and then I will let you rest." He grabbed two clean bandages and he attentively put the first one right below her knee and the other one on her thigh.

Again, his touch made her shiver a little, his hot skin in stark contrast with her icy one.

He waved her goodbye and exited the room.

But, she already missed him.

His delicate touch, his beautiful hands, his kind eyes and his raspy voice occupied her thoughts very often in those two weeks, much more than she would like to admit.

_________________________________

Next chapter

Taglist: @why-ami-on-here @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #gvf fic #greta van smut #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #fanfic

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not---meat · 2 months

Text

Paradise: Chapter 6: Away She'd Fly

Pairing: Javier Peña x McKenzie Martel

Rating: A - Adult

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Javier reveals the truth

Note: This is an AU set in between season 2 and season 3 of Narcos sometime in the 90's. I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies!

MASTERLIST --- PARADISE MASTERLIST

There was so much anger. So much pain. It wasn't like McKenzie to raise her voice. It wasn't like her to spew out hate filled words to anyone but especially not to Javier. She was always so rational, so put together, that she rarely used charged words in order to hurt someone. She didn't like to hurt people, especially not the people that she cared about.

Now she wondered, though, did she truly still care for Javier? After abandoning her the way that he did, could she really and truthfully muster up that much care for him anymore? It was clear that she had moved on, that her life had moved on.

"You don't know me!" McKenzie screamed at him. It wasn't the words themselves that were hateful but the tone she used. Hateful. Her expression that of a stranger to Javier, one that he had never seen on her face and yet there it was as clear as day. Hate filled. Those emerald eyes narrowed, staring daggers into him as she stopped what she was doing completely. The idea of sitting down on her bed completely forgotten as she took a step toward him.

"You don't know a single damn thing about me, Javier!" She screamed at him again, "The girl you knew is dead!"

It seemed as though with every hate filled word Javier lowered his arms, his expression saddening further.

"You're right." Javier hissed under his breath, "Obviously I don't fucking know you anymore. Obviously the McKenzie I know and care about is not here."

"Then leave! There's nothing here for you anymore, Javier!" Tears welled in her eyes as she pointed at the door, beckoning for him to leave.

In return, in defiance, Javier took a step closer to her, shaking his head. "I'm not just going to give up on you, McKenzie. That girl is still in there. I've seen her in your eyes, Kenz. You just need to get over this phase and come back to me, Kenz."

"Fuck you!" She hissed, hands flying out and connecting with his chest as he moved closer to her, forcefully pushing him away. She stepped closer so she could push him away again, "Fuck you Javier! You don't get to come here and run my life after you ruined it!"

Hot tears streamed down her face, pouring from hate filled eyes as she pushed him away. Javier stayed silent, pain on his face as he swallowed hard. He kept his cool, gently taking her hands in his and cooing as if he were talking to a misbehaving child.

"Calm down, McKenzie." He cooed, rubbing the backs of her hands with her fingers, "This isn't you. This is the coke talking. Come back to me, McKenzie."

"Don't fucking touch me!" McKenzie exclaimed, pulling her hands from his grasp, she took a step backward, shaking her head. She wiped the wetness from her cheeks, "This is me talking. Get the fuck out of my life, Javier!"

"Kenz…"

"No!" She cut him off, "You wanted out? Good! You're out! Get out!"

"McKenzie… we…" Javier tried, stepping forward his hands out in front of him as if trying to approach a wild animal.

"We what?! We promised?? You broke that promise!" She screamed at him, her voice cracking. Her throat was burning. Her face was burning. Skin prickled and boiled from the heat of her anger. Her heart was screaming, breaking for him in ways she had never experienced before. She had felt heartbroken when he left and now? Now he was pouring salt all over the wounds that she already struggled to close.

"What about us, McKenzie? You can't throw 30 years away. Cradle to-"

McKenzie just scoffed, looking away from him and shaking her head, eyes narrowing once again as her gaze fell upon him. "Cradle to grave? You're going to pull that again? Fine! consider thsi the grave part of cradle to grave." She hissed through her teeth. McKenzie brushed past him, moving to the door of her bedroom, she opened it and gestured for Javier to leave. He didn't.

"I'm not leaving you like this, McKenzie. I promised to be there for you no matter what." Javier spoke. He didn't even turn to look at her. There was a defeated tone in his voice, as if the reality of the situation was finally hitting him. He finally turned to face her, sadness in his eyes, tears threatening to spill. "I won't leave you like this. We can fix this, Kenz. We can fix us."

Silence fell between them. Excruciating silence as they stared into each others pain filled eyes, tears still brimming his as they fell from her own.

It was McKenzie who broke the silence, her tone soft, cracking from the emotion within. "There is no us, Javier. There's you and there's me. There has never been an us."

His shoulders drooped, eyes flickering about her face as the harsh reality of her words sunk in. Javier didn't dare move, instead just having a staredown with McKenzie, trying to find the right words.

"I can't lose you, Kenz…" He whispered, fear and hurt in his tone.

McKenzies mind was floating now. She didn't hear a single word he said, the pain in her heart rippled through her body. She was shaking now. Shaking from anger, shaking from hurt. In that moment not even Javier would be able to quel the fire within her. The man that was once her everything broken down to nothing in her mind. The man who, wordlessly, was once able to sooth and calm her. Not even Javier could extinguish the flames of anger and hurt that burned throughout her.

Slowly, then all at once, Javier was coming to terms with that. His expression softening completely. A desperate sigh passing his lips as he stared at the burning inferno in front of him. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do, to fix what he had broken.

"You're killing yourself, McKenzie." He whispered, "You're poisoning yourself, can't you see that?"

It was a desperate attempt. Drawing the conversation away from their relationship and back to the reason they were fighting to begin with, McKenzie didn't reply, instead just letting out a huff of air as she waited for him to give in and walk away.

"Please, McKenzie. Don't stop for me. Stop for your dad. Stop for your brother. Don't make them bury you when you go too far." He pleaded with her, stepping closer to her, "Do it for Chucho, do it for you, do it for the people who love you. Please McKenzie…. This path you're going down will only send you to an early grave. Don't do this."

He reached out to her, brushing strands of coiled hair away from her face, his gaze meeting hers. She still refused to speak. She refused to move, her hateful gaze still locked on Javier, silently willing him to give up and walk away.

"Please don't make me bury my best friend. Forget everything else don't make us bury the most amazing person to walk this planet." Javier whispered, his hand resting on her cheek, wiping tears from her skin with his thumb, "Please?"

As Javier stared down at McKenzie, pain in his big brown eyes, pleading with her silently, McKenzie's narrowed eyes softened. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks and Javier continued to wipe then away with his thumb. The death grip she had on the doorknob loosened. She was falling from her high, floundering right in front of him.

"why do you care?" She whispered, eyebrows pinching together every slightly, "After all of these years of forgetting about me, why now?"

Javier shook his head, his other hand coming up to cup her face and wipe tears from her skin. "I have never and will never, ever, forget about you McKenzie. Never. You've never left my mind or my heart."

"Why?" She hissed through clenched teeth, "Why now after I've moved on? After I finally found a way to be happy without you, why did you even come back?"

"McKenzie…" Javier sighed, "I came back for you."

She raised her voice again, glaring up at him, "Why?! Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone!?"

"Kenzi please. Please. Hear me. I came back for you." He repeated, still cupping her face in his hands. McKenzie pulled his arms away, slipping out of his grip.

"Oh right. As if that makes a damn difference, Javier. You still cam back ten years too late! Why even bother, Javier? Why come back for me at all when you clearly don't give an actual shit about me." She hissed, slamming the bedroom door and moving away from him.

Javier groaned, rubbing his face with his hands as he turned to follow Kenzi while she angrily paced across the room.

"You're not hearing me, McKenzie. Hear me. I came back for you."

"No. I hear you, Javier. You cam back for me. Ten years too fucking late but you came back, right?" She hissed, "You should have just stayed in Columbia and forgotten about me."

Javier shook his head, stepping toward her. He took her hands in his, staring down at her as he spoke. "I couldn't do that even if I wanted to McKenzie. I couldn't just forget about you, please, you've plagued my mind for our whole lives."

"Plagued? That's comforting to know that you view me as a fucking disease, Javier. If I'm such a plague then maybe you should get the hell away from me, huh?" Kenzie ripped her hands out of his grip and moved away from him.

A low groan rumbled from Javier as he stepped toward her again, grabbing her arms, "You're not listening McKenzie!"

"Oh my god, Javier! Listening to what?! Listening to you spin in circles. You cam back for me, I'm a plague, but oh Kenzi I can't lose you, but also I did the right thing in fucking leaving you for ten god damned years and ignoring you. Treating you like we meant nothing to each other!" She yelled at him, wriggling out of his grasp again.

"You mean everything to me, McKenzie! God are you that fucking dense that I have to spell it out for you?!" Javier yelled back. McKenzie took pause for a second. Javier rarely raised his voice at her and yet there he was, screaming at her, like whatever he was going to say was more important than anything else.

"Spell it out, then, Javier. Because obviously I have no fucking idea what you're talking about." She hissed in response, narrowing her eyes.

"God damnit McKenzie!" Javier groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. He stared down at her, dropping his hands and using them to exaggerate his point. "Can't you see it? Do you not understand? I came back for you!"

"Great! What the fuck does that mean?!" She yelled at him.

Javier let out an exasperated groan, turning on his heel. He paced away from her for a moment, trying to keep his cool. He turned again, staring over at her. "It means I'm in love with you, McKenzie." He stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. A fact. Something that she should have known all along.

All McKenzie could do was stare at him, dumbfounded. Her stomach dropped, a pit of despair falling over her.

Javier moved closer, taking small steps toward her, "I'm in love with you, McKenzie. I love you. I have always loved you."

There was a silence between them as Javier waited for her to speak. The only sounds between them being their breathing, short and ragged as if they were both catching their breaths from the argument. Rain pattered against the window, a low rumble coming from outside, signifying that a storm was on its way. The room had gotten darker as gloomy clouds covered the sun. Still, the two of them stood there, gazes met as Javier had finished pouring his soul out, only hoping that McKenzie would hear the words he had to say. Hoping that she would still feel the same way.

Finally McKenzie broke the silence, staring up at Javier with wide eyes, her voice coming out as a soft whisper.

"No."

#fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #original character #pedro is daddy #narcos #javier pena x oc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Alright order up I got a scenario (Couldn’t find the tag for Casper so I’m going off on memory on what they’re like sorry if there’s any inaccuracies cause of it)

So if memory serves me right Casper has a habit of sort of watching the reader from afar for a while until they finally approach them, so I had the idea of what if when Casper is busy sneaking around to stalk the reader, the reader notices that some strange things are happening around their home. They’ll hear sounds of something outside in their backyard and when they check in the morning some things are out of place or there will be something placed there that they never had before, along with other creepy things happening around them. And while it does sorta creep reader out they start to think “Oh it’s probably just a stray animal” and they begin to leave out some things like food and maybe even toys out for this “stray animal” in hopes of seeing it and maybe even befriending it. And surprise surprise it’s not a stray animal at all it’s Casper, and they get really excited that the reader is actually giving them stuff and wants to return the favour, and Caspers gifts back just sort of escalate further and further until they gets the confidence to finally show themselves to the reader.

Apologies if this is too specific or it doesn’t fit btw it’s just what I came up with first, have a nice day :) - 👁‍🗨

(this was pretty specific so there's some derailing on my end. Hope you enjoy it though)

It starts with a rattle by the trash cans outside. The curious creature thought they could get aeaaeay with ease, but with a body as large as its that was a different feat. Stepping outside, your first thought goes to a stray animal or similar upon seeing the lid clattering to the earth below. Funny enough, everything was still in order, except for an old shirt you had tossed out after it had torn which was mysterious absent from the bin. You place the lid back on top, thinking little of it.

The following night you're greeting scratches on your front door. Whilst grabbing a late night snack, you hear the little nicks being etched into the wood. The moment you grab the door handle, they stop. As you look outside, there's nothing to see. Strange- though it stopped before you opened the door, you should've been able to see whatever it was before it got away. You inspect the frame, discovering thin lines in the wood. In a way, it almost resembles a smile. Mind on auto-pilot and assuming its just some wild creature, you pick one half of your sandwich off the plate and set it on the ground before heading off to bed. In the morning, both plate and food are gone - a single piece of candy sitting in their place.

Upon find the treat, you start to believe this isn't a stray animal; not in the traditional sense at the very least. Curious, you decided to continue this game of back and forth just to see if that's really what this was. You leave an old doll on your doorstep and comes the following morning, you find a blanket in its place. It vaguely reminds you of the one a neighbor had drapped over a plastic scarecrow passing out candy last Halloween before they moved away.

That feeling that's there's more to this growing, you leave a notebook on the porch. When you recieved it in the morning, you find nothing more than a few lines of the first page. A game of tic-tac-toe. Beneath the board is a small note.

"You first."

You draw an x in the center of the square. That night, your opponent leaves their mark in the form of a smiley face in the upper left corner. By the third night, your little game is over. It seems they took all paths that would avoid their own winning. Your opponent congrats you with a "You win!" and pile of candy on the step. There appears to be another bonus to your victory, as you spot an arrow at the bottom of the note.

Flipping the page, your stomach drops at the picture displayed. It was a drawing of a kitchen - yours to be more accurate. From lay out to appliances, your kitchen had been mirrored to the best of the artist's capabilities; you included. There were two discrepancies you noticed the longer you looked. A head poking through one of the windows, and a box on the kitchen table. The figures large, black eyes stare back at you through the paper. You can almost feel its gaze on the back of your neck.

The pit in your stomach becomes a bolder as you enter the kitchen. Just as the picture depicted, there's a white box sitting on the table. You look towards the window, feeling relieved upon finding it empty, but that still left the other problem at hand.

Nearing the box, you note a letter tucked beneath it. You choose to read it before braving whatever sat in the box, though common sense told you neither was a good option.

"Dear You,

I'm so happy. So very happy you like me too. I've watched you for a while now. Touched you too. Your skin is sweet. Sweeter than any type of candy. I normally retire at this time of year, but its much warmer by your side. Since you like me too, it would be fine if I stay, right? Writing this now, I know I still lack the courage to face you, but soon, we'll never part from each other. I've left you something, something that reminded me of you ever time it pulsed in my hands.

I love you.

-C."

You set the note again. Your fingers tremble as they pull the lid of the box upwards. You retch at the smell, near looking your control over your stomach as your eyes fall upon what lies in the box. It's a heart. Too small to be human, but a heart nonetheless. You quickly shove the lid back on and turn to flee from the house, and never look back-

And when you see it.

You hear it before anything else. Something scraping against the dark walls of your home. Its eyes slowly come into view; surrounding by a sheet of white. The splotch slowly rises from its low point against the ground, towering over you and hitting the ceiling. A hand grabs the kitchen wall, then another, untill four hands grasp ththe foundation of your home. As the figure drags itself from the shadows, what appears to be a large white cloth draps over its body. You can see the vague outline of a humanoid shape beneath, the fabric sticking as though it was another layer of skin until it reached its legs where it dangled free. As you stared into the dark pits of its yes, you saw a toothy smile mirrored in both sockets.

"I'm.. home."

#Casper my oc #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yandere horror #tw yandere

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dovithedarklord · 6 months

Text

Age of Mosters - Chapter Two

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

Finally, the small team enters the picture, and it becomes clear how Leona's failed escape attempt continues.

I apologize for any possible mistakes, but my eyes can't find the typos when I go through the text for the twentieth time... so sorry!

The chapter is still kind of an introduction... but everything will start over time ;)

Leona calls everyone by their last name, so it might be weird for a while if you're used to the characters' callsigns/nicknames. But for now, it didn't seem natural :)

(I proofread myself before posting, so sorry if there are mistakes! I write the story in my language first, and I translate it after. English is not my first language, so help is welcomed! Just be nice, please!)

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Two

..................................................................

I press my lips into a thin line as I stare at the door in front of me, my legs bouncing nervously under the table where I've been sitting silently for at least an hour now. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall feels almost ear-piercing in the silence of the empty room, and I feel my patience running thin with each click. I would prefer to run amok and smash the fucking uncomfortable chair against the wall, but my hands that are cuffed to the table stop me from doing so thankfully. Of course, I also know that my temper tantrum wouldn't make any difference because I successfully got caught anyway, and breaking and crushing things wouldn't change that. What I would achieve with it at most is that they’d get another dose of that very premium stuff, which got me here in the first place.

I spent at least seven of the last twelve hours completely knocked out, and maybe it was better when the outside world seemed like a distant nightmare. Because when I finally regained consciousness strapped to a white hospital bed, the memories quickly returned to my head and I realized that I was sinking into the shit I caused for myself. Even though I tried - rather stupidly - to escape by stunning the two enforcers, I should have expected that even if they didn't know what I was capable of, they wouldn't send just two people to catch an Extreme. If nothing else, the simple fact that it is extremely rare to find one of my kind justifies their caution. I should have known from the moment I saw the lab results. But panic clouded all my judgment to such an extent that I attacked and fled like a startled wild animal. It was embarrassingly easy for them to hunt me down.

My mind still fills with helpless rage and disappointment as I think back on the chain of events that destroyed my carefully constructed disguise, life, and everything, that I had built for the last twelve years. How could I have been so stupid to not pay attention to the camera on the other side of the street? How could I possibly be such a gigantic idiot that I didn't check how many friends the bastard had before I took him out for a snack? If his little friend hadn't been in a hurry to find him, there wouldn't have been a single problem. But then he came after his bestie, I killed him, and now I'm sitting in a fucking interrogation room, handcuffed to a table. Of course, no one said a word about what was going to happen, they took care of my injuries and transported me here in careful silence, I suspect in order to unsettle me and to make me agree as willingly as possible to whatever stupid offer they have in store for me. And as sickening as it is to admit it, they are not far from succeeding.

It was clear from the first moment after I woke up that they do not intend to throw me in prison or execute me, because then they wouldn’t have wrapped my injuries in gauze with such tenderness, and my pretty little body in a foreign uniform. Of course, I should be happy that my earthly career does not end so abruptly and early, but I know very well that if anyone walks through the door of the room and makes any "offer", I won’t be in any position to refuse. From here, the road only leads to an even deeper sea of shit. And now, for the first time, I regret that my lust for blood won and I hunted someone down because of it. I would have been better off tossing and turning in my bed, on the verge of unconsciousness. Then the ticking of the fucking clock wouldn't drive me crazy.

But before I could drive myself deeper into madness, the white door in front of me opens with a soft creak, and I stop my restless legs and straighten up in my chair with my light eyes on the arriving stranger. A woman in her forties enters the room, her hair resting in a neat bun on the back of her head, her hard gaze directed at me only shaded by her light locks. Her face says nothing as she looks at me while closing the door behind her, but it's very clear from her firm steps that she doesn't see me as a threat. And why would she? I’m like a snake whose venomous teeth have been pulled out.

My tongue unconsciously runs along the sharp curve of my canines, and it still fills me with a sense of loss that I'm not feeling the cheap plastic of artificial teeth. Perhaps the confiscation of the tools that served as my disguise affected me even more sensitively than my capture. By the time I woke up, both my contact lenses and veneers were gone, and I felt naked and defenseless for the first time in years. I’m not ashamed of any of my physical features, even those that are characteristics of my kind, but I hate that this intimate secret of mine has become a public spectacle and information. But after all, that's what happens when one plays with fire. When you burn yourself, your own misery hurts all the more.

Of course, I can't deny that it filled me with morbid joy when the doctors or the enforcers carefully avoided my gaze after they recognized the meaning of my vertical pupils. I prefer to feel like a predator than a prey. Even if here and now the reality couldn’t be further from it.

"Good afternoon, Miss Woods. How was your sleep?" The woman inquires comfortably, her voice surprisingly pleasant and warm, despite the serious expression on her features. A small ironic smile tugs at the corners of my mouth involuntarily, because I find it extremely comical how she starts with the kind of conversation normal between two neighbors when she’s about to interrogate me. I guess this will be the good cop, bad cop lineup. I just have to wait for the bad cop to appear now.

"Great. Thank whoever shot me with the splendid narcotic on my behalf. I haven't rested this well in years. " I comment while I keep a close eye on every little movement the woman makes in the meantime, searching for any sign that could lead to more information.

"Don't worry, you will have the opportunity to do it yourself." She answers, and I don't like the way an inexplicably sweet expression appears on her face, which makes my eyes narrow in suspicion. "My name is Kate Laswell. I'd like to say I'm glad to meet you, but I suspect it wouldn't be mutual." She continues, taking a seat across from me and placing a thick folder on the table. I take a quick glance at it, and just one look at the logo on it is enough for me to know that this lady did not come from the official government agencies. And this fills me with mixed feelings at best, because no privately owned organization that cooperates with enforcers has a good reputation, neither in this colony nor in the other fifty-seven remaining in the world. Because they are the ones who usually go on missions from which people return in several pieces. IF they return.

When she gets no reaction from me to her statement, she just opens the heavy file with a tired sigh to reveal such a quantity of documents that makes me wonder how much information the enforcers have collected about me in such a short time. It's clear that she's familiar with every detail that’s in it, yet she skims through the first couple of pages one last time, only to then lean forward in her chair with her eyes raised to me.

"I don't want to waste time, so I'll get straight to the point." She interlocks her fingers together on the table, giving the impression that what she is about to say is of great importance, which I do not doubt. "You have concealed your status as an Extreme Healer until now, which is not only illegal but also dangerous. Presumably, similarly to the current case, you illegally fed on civilians on several occasions, knowing that you could only officially do so under the supervision of Hunters and with their help. You refused your duty to Colony No. 17 and failed to fulfill your responsibilities as a Healer, thus hindering the work of the official bodies and the Hunters, which protect the colony. On top of all that, you committed murder and violence against official personnel. And there is reason to assume that it was not the first time."

"You summed it up quite nicely." I add appreciatively because I’m completely aware of the meaning behind every single word she uttered. I chose this path consciously and I have not regretted for a minute the freedom I have enjoyed because of it. She doesn't seem amused by the lightheartedness with which I responded to my criminal record, her face furrows in worry as she draws her elegant eyebrows together.

"Miss Wood, I wouldn't take these accusations lightly if I were you." She warns me sternly, with the same tone one would reprimand a messy child. There's an edge to her voice that tells me she's experienced in giving orders and is used to disciplining unruly elements like me.

"I’m not. But I won't argue with the facts." I shrug, leaning back in my chair because at this point I've given up on trying to put on any of my masks. This woman would probably see right through it anyway. Because she's been analyzing me in the same exact way I've been examining her ever since she came here.

Short silence settles in the room as we stare at each other, and I'm waiting for her to finally stop beating around the bush and blurt out the real reason behind her arrival. Reviewing my past actions served no other purpose than to clarify what cards she had to corner me. Under normal circumstances, everyone would be shocked when their lies and misdeeds are exposed and they are openly confronted with the skeletons hiding in their closet. But it doesn't affect me. Every day and minute, I was fully aware of every risk and sin. And they were all surprisingly easy to live with after a while.

"In this situation, unfortunately, you don't have much choice regarding the future." She breaks the silence and continues to keep her eyes on mine, and with this, she silently tells me that I better pay attention to what she’s about to say. I'll give her my full attention in return because ever since my fucking eyes opened in this damned place, I've been waiting for someone to fill me in about what's next. The insecurity burns me now more than any crime I had ever committed, the feeling of uncertainty akin to a rusty knife twisting into my skull, digging deeper and deeper into my brain. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You have two options. Based on the charges listed against you, one of them is execution." She attacks right away, and I feel the air stuck inside of my lungs almost painfully because I know that this would be the easier solution. This would be the logical, orderly, and fast route that I would deserve, and which might seem better than the other option. But I won't choose that. And she knows that exactly.

"And what would be the other option?" I inquire, and I hate how the barely perceptible, ridiculously faint fear moves into my voice, which no one else would be able to pick up, but I know from the expression on the woman's face that I’m not able to fool her.

"You join Liquidation Unit 141 as a member and official Healer to pay for his crimes." She strikes mercilessly and immediately hits the target because I freeze in silence and stare at her, like someone who’s seen a ghost. Of course, it would be foolish to say that I didn't know this was coming, but as her words fully sink in, the whole situation suddenly becomes reality. Even I am surprised by how, despite the gloominess of the situation, I burst out laughing, and I wonder if maybe I still have some of the drugs they used to knock me out in my bloodstream. The development of the events leading up to this moment seems so ironic, that just because I couldn't control my fucking hunger and chose dinner from the wrong menu, now all my efforts have been in vain. Because some stupid bastard was worried about his buddy and because karma put the only camera on the street that takes a sharp picture. Everything I've been trying so desperately to avoid is happening. What fucking luck I have.

"What’s your answer?" Comes the question from the woman, but I know that it doesn't matter what I say. Because we both know I'm not crazy and brave enough to choose death. I am selfish, and I would rather cling to life, no matter how sinister and unfavorable the future may seem. Because as long as I live, I have a chance to escape. Until I don't die, I have the possibility to be free again.

"I hope you won't regret this deal, Laswell." I speak up finally, and I don't need to explain any further for her to know what decision I have reached. "Because I've been on my best behavior until now. I'm not sure I'll continue to feel the urge to be a good girl." I lean forward, pulling my lips into a dark little grin, because the pride in me won't let me appear crushed and desperate as I go down and get defeated. And since she seems like a decent woman, I'll be fair. Better to warn her that it won't be an easy ride if it's up to me.

But when a knowing smile curls onto her lips, and for a minute I regret that I tried to provoke her. Because a chill runs down my spine from the unrecognizable sparkle that appears in her blue eyes.

"Don’t worry. I expected this and you will be in very good hands."

⃰*

If I had first doubted whether Laswell's threat was empty, I was now sure that she had no intention of leaving up to chance how well I would behave. With a frustrated sigh, I try to wrestle myself into a slightly more comfortable position in the back seat of the jeep, but it’s rather difficult because with my hands cuffed behind my back, no situation seems less uncomfortable than the previous one.

I might consider it a little excessive that she incapacitated me to such a degree, but I have to admit that I gave her a reason to be uncertain about my intention to cooperate. Of course, despite this, the mask that tightly covers my mouth, which ensured my silence from the start, still seems a little ridiculous. What did she believe? That I going to throw myself at her and rip her throat out? She should know that my kind doesn't bite just on a whim, because it is such an intimate and dangerous moment that I have rarely been willing to do in my life so far. It leaves an easily recognizable mark, but it isn't my first choice because of its other unpleasant side effects either. And now I can't let my guard down because of said side effects. It's not worth it all.

The whole journey passes quietly, which gives me enough time to reflect on the recent events. After our small talk, Laswell got into the car without wasting another word, stating that the sooner I got to my new home, the better for everyone. I managed to find out that the base where her unit was supposed to be stationed was located outside the colony, which immediately made me wonder how much better it would be for me to find myself outside the walls of the well-protected and secured city. But luckily, the woman was kind enough to reassure me that there was nothing to worry about, the base is in the yellow zone, so even though we have to venture outside the colony, the chance of mutants appearing is very small. And anyway. Her people have everything under control, there is not the slightest reason for concern.

It is really not that easy to explain this to someone who was already born in the green zone that provides security and has never left it. After all, you can hear nothing else from the radio, other than cautious warnings telling the residents not to leave the walls protecting the city, because only certain death awaits there. Of course, realistically, I know that the yellow zone is still close enough that there is little risk of attacks, but it is also close enough to the orange and red zones that the possibility of danger is not zero. And if the chance is not zero, it is not certain.

The car comes to a slow halt and that disturbs me from my musings, and as I look out the windshield window and see the long line of walls bordered by barbed wire, the nervousness caused by the hopeless situation that I thought had left my body awakens in me. But it seems that there are still enough surprises for me to get excited about. Hooray!

We arrive at the facility's only entrance, and after a brief greeting and presentation of Laswell's identification card to the guards, she drives on, and an almost irritatingly bubbly and busy-looking base opens up in front of me, and I wonder how many people do they want to entrust to my care. But after the first glance, I can tell that a significant portion of the soldiers are not Hunters, because they look too human and weak for that, and they lack the dangerous aura that can only be a characteristic of a Hunter. It's not like I've met that many Hunters in my life, but everyone knows exactly by what physical characteristics can you spot the heroic vanquishers of mutant monsters right away. And after the first Hunters "awakened" fifty years ago, such an amount of data has been collected that a picture of them immediately pops into one’s head after they hear the name.

"We've arrived." Laswell suddenly steps on the brakes, and I straighten up in my seat to prepare for what will follow. I ran a few possible scenarios through my head, evaluating just how difficult this job would be considering that the only other alternative left was death. And I came to the conclusion that the only options left are those with which karma will kick me where it hurts the most. If I'm fortunate, all I have to do is tend to the Hunters' injuries and regenerate them from time to time when they get close to insanity. If I'm out of luck, they can throw anything at me from annoying to deadly. So I'm pretty sure I can't expect anything good, but maybe I can be a little grateful that I'm alive. I'm sure I'll find something sickeningly beautiful even in this miserable shit. After all, hope and the motivation to survive are the last to die.

Laswell jumps out of the car, picks up her small bag resting on the passenger seat, and steps back, and as she opens the door for me, I am almost touched by how gently she grabs my arm and tries to make it easier for me to get out of the vehicle without my hands. She's certainly not only doing it because she still harbors that small irrational fear that my stunt with the enforcers will happen again, and I skip off. Certainly not.

"My team is waiting for you inside. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet everyone you'll be working closely with at the same time." She explains as she guides me towards the entrance of the huge building located in the middle of the base, and I decide that I will not give up my pride despite the tight spot I got myself in. I will not give anyone the pleasure of playing the role of a terrified little mouse just because I got caught in a shamefully simple manner. Therefore, I straighten my back and follow the woman with the posture of a confident bad bitch, raising my head high, throwing my brown locks back as if I had arrived at one of the red carpet events seen in the archives. After all, the soldiers loitering around stare at me as if a real star had set foot in their humble abode. And it might as well be the truth because I'm sure that even if the authorities stopped information from spreading about my fun little activities in the colony, news about me have already reached their ears. And if every wretched fool eyeballs me with such interest, I will give them the attitude that comes with this privileged position. Silly behavior, but at least guaranteed fun. And I'm afraid I'll have to entertain myself with these little pleasures for a long time.

It definitely should bother me how easily my stubbornness overcomes the fear in the pit of my stomach, but I think at this point it would be better if I let these unnecessary worries go. Because now I can't do anything else but let myself drift with the events. And there is nothing more comforting than delusional confidence. However, as soon as I get my hands on the right information, my brain can go into planning mode again, and I can start working on my escape.

The inside of the building looks like a complete maze, a long corridor after another endless one, rows of doors everywhere, and I try to look for easily identifiable reference points with furtive glances, although I assume that I will never be left unattended in the building if I just look at what precautions I have been treated with until now. It's not like I'll be able to just walk out the main entrance later, because a back exit, a hidden little window would be more suitable for my sweet escape. But unfortunately, I still have to wait for these delicacies. First, I put their suspicions to rest about the fact that these stray, sweet things even arise in my head.

Laswell suddenly stops in front of a door, and I know that now comes the main event, which makes the uncomfortable grip that is still settling in my stomach come to life again. Fixing my gaze on the back of my guide's head, I stop behind her as well, and for one last time, I repeat the mantra that has been circulating in my brain since I regained consciousness. I'll fix everything because I always have. There's no problem I can't overcome. And as the woman opens the door in front of me with a swift movement, and stands aside with a nod to indicate that I should get in, I obey and walk past her with light steps after I gain back my delusional determination from my small pep talk to myself.

I quickly scan the room, the huge screen on the wall, the large windows through which the afternoon sunlight shines warmly, and finally the huge table, at the end of which I find the people for whom I was probably brought here instead of the slaughterhouse. The door closes with a low creak after Laswell steps inside behind me, and with her hand, she gently nudges toward a chair at the other end of the table, and I lazily flop down in the crossfire of four pairs of eyes.

"You're late, Kate." Says the man sitting at the middle of the other end of the table, and as he raises his cigar to his mouth to take a puff in the most assertive way I've ever seen someone do it, the confident carelessness of a true Hunter radiates from him. But it doesn't escape my attention that the look of both interest and caution crosses his face framed by a thick beard as he studies me.

"Identification took a long time at the wall. It was not easy to bring our guest over." The woman nods her head towards me, and I only reward her explanation with a cursory glance, because she is indeed right. Everything was probably taken care of by the time we reached the gate leading out of the city, yet the soldiers standing guard there studied our documents with such fervor as if the woman wanted to smuggle something sketchy and of dubious origin. I felt sorry for her for a minute when she started a long argument with one of the guards, but this rare spark in my soul was fleeting, after all, I was much more occupied with my own misery. "Now I'm going to take off the mask and ask you not to do anything rash." Laswell turns to me, and I raise one of my eyebrows skeptically in response to her unreasonably cautious warning. Do I look like an absolute idiot to her?

As the woman reaches behind my head and begins to work on removing the mask that has been covering half my face, I take a closer look at the men sprawled at the table. Just as I could clearly tell in the courtyard that there was not a single Hunter among them, I can now state with the exact same certainty that all those present here are. At first glance, they are not just any Hunters, but all of them are at least S-class, it is enough to just observe their behavior. But as my eyes fall on one of the guys wearing a mask exuding a rather menacing and grim aura, who looks almost unbelievably huge, I realize that he must be an SSS-class big boy. In most cases, it is not possible to tell where a Hunter is between class F and A based on physical characteristics alone because over the years and with the development of their skills and their merits, they can rise between the levels. But only those who are born for it will rise to the S-class, especially to the SSS-class. There is no clear explanation as to what causes this anomaly, but the trigger of the appearance of the first infected mammalian lifeforms, or I.M.L.s, caused a stronger mutation in their case. Which made them more powerful, faster, and deadlier than their fellow Hunters. And from this sudden realization, for a moment, the wild joy I felt earlier wavers. As an Extreme I can kill with my ability, but the chances of me even laying a finger on any of them without their approval to use my little tricks is almost ridiculously low. No problem. I am here to be their Healer. And for that, they will have to let my sly little hands get close to them.

"Don't you think that you went a little bit overboard? What did you think I was going to do? That I'm going to bite someone?" I ask, squeezing every drop of irony into my voice, as the damned mask finally comes off me, and with my comment, I only get a reprimanding look from the woman.

"You’re here ’cause you’ve already done it, aren’t ya?" Comes the teasing question from one of the Hunters, and as I look toward him, somewhat of an eerie feeling starts to dawn in the hidden corners of my memories, as I run my eyes along his features. I would certainly remember it if I ever had the bad luck to meet a Hunter with a mohawk. Or any S-class Hunter for that matter.

"There's some truth to it. But I don't bite, I cut." I note cheekily, twisting my lips into a sarcastic little smile that has been waiting to appear ever since I set foot on the base. Of course, I know that I shouldn't provoke men who not only look dangerous, but undoubtedly are, but what are they going to do to me? In order for them to be able to use me, they need me mostly unharmed. Laswell, who may be in some leadership role, however strict she may appear, will not let them harm the new acquisition if she has gone through all the trouble to get it.

"You’ve already met Hunter MacTavish." Laswell motions her head towards the guy who is verbally trying me, and suddenly I get the feeling, like when the last missing piece of a puzzle falls into place and the picture gets complete. I immediately realize why his heavily accented voice sounds familiar, and as the recognition dawns on me, my face involuntarily breaks into a wide grin.

"You're the bastard who shot me!" The remark breaks out of me, and I can't understand why this causes me such joy. The fact that I'm in the same room as the person who's probably been tailing me since the very first moment after my slip-up just confirms the fact that Laswell tried to get a hold of me the minute the DNA test results were fresh and crisp. What could be the special extra problem with this team that makes them need a Healer so urgently? One, moreover, whom they are willing to save for themselves despite her status as a proven criminal. Interesting.

"I'm glad to meet you awake." The Hunter named MacTavish nods his head at me, with a grin on his face that makes me rightly assume that I'm not the only one who finds the situation morbidly intriguing.

"It reassures me that I didn't stand a chance. At least I don't have to lament on what would have happened if I managed to run off." I shrug as I lean back in my chair as far as my still shackled hands will allow. I'm serious about my little remark because it's now clear that I had no chance of escaping from the beginning. It's not like I had any brilliant ideas in case I managed to succeed, but would've found some clever solution.

"Don't even think about that now." Suggests Laswell, and for a moment she looks really worn out as she leans on the table with one palm and turns to my small audience. "We should rather spend our energy on getting to know each other. It's better to get over it as soon as possible. From left to right, Simon “Ghost” Riley." Begins Laswell, and then points to the man sitting on the far left of the table with her hand, who looks at me with his dark eyes so penetratingly that it gives me a visceral and instinctive feeling that something sinister is lurking behind his skull mask."John "Soap" MacTavish." For a change, the woman introduces my captor again, and the man continues to grin at me in an annoyingly good mood. "Our unit's captain, John Price." Laswell points to the guy with the cigar, who continues to puff, studying me, as if this situation were an everyday affair around here. "Kyle “Gaz” Garrick." Said person just greets me with a curt nod and looks at my modest person with cautious curiosity.

After lining up her small team, Laswell finally takes a seat at the table, with her job momentarily done, and from the bag she was carrying, she takes out the file again with which she had already delighted me earlier. However, instead of going through it probably for the thousandth time, she delivers it to the Hunters who are patiently waiting across the table with a firm push.

"Although I have already informed the team in broad terms about your situation, for the sake of completeness, I would like them to familiarize themselves with your material in detail. After all, you will be working with them from now on." The woman reminds me, and I pull the corner of my mouth with complete indifference as if this wasn't something that would determine the further development of my life. However, no matter how relaxed I may seem when each man takes out a page from my file and studies it with ever-deepening gloom, the restlessness in me stirs up again, which pushes my heart rate to unpleasant heights. If it didn't bother me before, how Laswell delved into the many misdeeds I'd committed, now it bothers me just as much as these dangerous strangers review the report that surely goes into every essential detail of my life. And maybe that's because while I was sure that I could take care of the woman at any time if the need arose, revealing my secrets would only put me at a disadvantage with those whose craft is killing. Up until now, I wanted to believe that they would still have blind spots regarding me because obviously, not a soul knows about the level to which I have developed my ability, but it is enough to focus on the furrowed brows of their captain, and it becomes painfully obvious that this futile hope of mine is about to come crashing down. Because this guy seems experienced enough to know when to dig deeper for answers.

A short but no less suffocating silence settles in the room, and to my surprise, Laswell seems much more worried than I am, although I'm sure that of the two of us, I have more reason to be on pins and needles. This again makes me wonder about what kind of unit it can be, where such detailed information is needed about a simple Healer, who in theory won't be responsible for anything other than nicely replenishing and pampering the Hunters when they drift to the brink of unquenchable aggression and bloodlust due to the exhaustion of their strength. You'd think it's a position that would require some reasonable attention, but not nearly as much as these five men are giving me right now.

"How did you manage to kill the victim found in the alley?" The captain asks, and I’ve almost waited in anticipation for him to start the interview. And after mentioning the incident, I'm overwhelmed with annoyance yet again. Of course, his interest is justified, because Healers cannot kill people, and according to general belief, neither can Extremes. But despite the fact that he asked this question out of curiosity for my nice little attraction, it still reminds me of the mistake that can only be attributed to my own feeble stupidity.

"I'm sure the autopsy provides enough information." I nudge my head at the stack of papers in front of him with a telling smile, and the man's eyes just narrow with beginning irritation at my answer. I don't really want to give out the rather sensitive data with which I still have a chance to surprise them, but I'm not so stupid to not know that the relatively friendly atmosphere can quickly take a strange turn if I don't start talking. I have no illusions that they can get what they want to know out of me if they want to. "I increased the pressure in his brain and caused him to have a seizure combined with a stroke, in which he died." I summarize briefly and to the point, and as they suddenly look at each other with a mixture of incomprehension and surprise, my twisted little soul fills with pride. Of course, I've never had the chance to brag to anyone about how I managed to perfect my skills through hard work and experimentation over the years, but deep inside, a pleasant warmth moves in my chest to see their jaws drop. Even though they will most certainly not let me near their body without increased supervision now.

"I thought Extremes were just Healers on steroids and were only capable of healing wounds and recharge Hunters." Garrick frowns in bewilderment, and his comment reflects the thoughts of his companions as well. It seems that even the well-informed Laswell is surprised by this newly discovered bit of information because her eyes meet with the captain's for a fleeting glance, and to me, this is just enough evidence that my dangerousness may not have been properly assessed by them. Of course, they could have thought that I couldn't be completely harmless based on the way I left the poor bastards behind the club.

"It's true for an average Healer." I lean forward with a mysterious smile because I would be in denial if I claimed that I don't gain any satisfaction from being able to momentarily shake such highly esteemed men out of their composure. I could be called an evil little pervert or a sneaky little bitch, but such small moments in life should be appreciated. "But in the case of people like me, the advantages also increase along with the disadvantages concerning nutrition." I sit back, as carelessly as if I wasn't still the biggest loser in the whole story. However, the fact that I managed to provide them with something unexpected does not mean anything. Because I just gave them one more reason, in addition to the countless other ones so far, to keep me on a short leash. I'm pretty sure I won't even be able to breathe innocently enough for them from now on. But if my freedom is already lost, let me at least have my petty joy.

"Would you elaborate?" Says Laswell, and I wasn't wrong in that she can hand out orders like a pro because the words uttered as a request sound more like an instruction. And before I speak, I contemplate how much detail I should go into. But considering that they already know how cleverly I can eliminate someone, there's not much point in hiding the details, because they'll figure out on their own that I can probably attempt more cunning magic tricks than this. And maybe it's better not to leave it up to chance because I have the sneaking suspicion that the more I leave everything to their imagination, the less time I will have to spend unsupervised from now on. And I don't like to give up my me-time.

"In an ideal case, even an average Healer is able to heal only by localizing injuries instead of full regeneration or regulating the energy they use to treat Hunters. Of course, they don't really like to teach this, because then, God forbid, they wouldn't be able to change the Healers every month, because they would be able to do their job more efficiently." I begin my little lesson, and I see how just by stating a simple fact I am straying into very dangerous territory, because the atmosphere of the room cools down in a minute, despite the heat of the incoming sun rays. It immediately becomes obvious that similar problems arise here as well. And suddenly I understand why they needed an Extreme with much higher endurance if the Healers are probably changed here as frequently as dirty underwear.

The generally negligent treatment of Healers and their lack of proper training is a sensitive topic for everyone involved, which both the Hunters and the government have tended to sweep under the rug ever since the entire system was set in place. And even though there are very few Hunters and half as many Healers, somehow no one is bothered by the fact that this is not a very successful story. That's why I've tried to remain invisible until now and to hide in the utmost secrecy because I knew that as soon as I immersed myself in this vaguely bubbling mess, I'd immediately be dragged up to my neck in it. Because it doesn't matter that I will last a somewhat longer, I doubt that they will appreciate me more.

"In the case of Extremes, I can only speak for myself. If I use my energy, I can accurately feel every organ, every muscle, bone, and every tiny vein, and control the flow, pressure, and density of the blood. Not only in Hunters." I continue my presentation, and the people present in the room show increasing degrees of surprise. "Of course, I can also use my energy to a greater extent than average Healers, for general and more complicated healing and regeneration. But perhaps everyone already knew this about my kind." I continue my explanation further, at the end of which I came close to the effect I hoped to achieve. Because I can see that I shut the words into them, if only for a minute, and this leaves me enough time to further study their reaction and wonder what they will do with the revealed information. And I don't have to be disappointed, because Price quickly adjusts his features and returns to the position that suggests that whatever happens, the control remains in his hands. How sad that my joy is always so short-lived.

"This is good news. We’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time." The captain folds his hands in front of his chest after briefly processing what he heard, and now it's my turn to carefully narrow my eyes. It's hard for me to imagine a reason that would make them believe that it's good news that they have to put their hands near a person who just turned out to be able to kill them in that exact way. "Based on experience so far, the unit's work has proven to be too dangerous for other Healers. I was afraid that we might have to deal with the same problem, but now we know, there is no need to fret. This makes field work child's play." He outlines the situation, and there is nothing sweet or charming in the smile he pulls on his lips. My fists clench nervously behind my back because I don't like it one bit that the confidence I want to feel the most radiates back from the man. Nevertheless, I hold his gaze, my mouth in a mocking smirk as I cock my head to the side because, even though they are slowly cornering me, I am not willing to back down with my tail between my legs. It's a bit like a dick-measuring contest because even though I don't have the necessary equipment, Price still wants to make it clear to me that no matter how sneaky I think I am, he’s the one calling the shots here. And that makes hot rage bubbling up inside me because I suspect that his promise is not an unfounded and empty threat and he really has such excitement in store for me. Healers aren't usually sent out into the field because it's more important for them to remain in one piece at least as long as their duties are fulfilled, but these people aren't scared that I’m made out of glass. Flattering.

"I look forward to receiving the honor." I reply, and I try to force all the calmness and false kindness into my voice. And the captain seems quite amused by this, and for some reason, I'm not thrilled that he doesn't take me seriously enough. Which of course is completely understandable, because we all know that as soon as I try something funny, they could kill me immediately. And the fact that this is so obvious to everyone only makes me even more furious.

"Of course, this will not happen just yet. The boys will give you training beforehand to help you get prepared for fieldwork. Since the unit does not only deal with the protection of the colony but also carries out special liquidation and crime prevention activities in several areas, you will need special training. For your safety, of course." Laswell interrupts our little banter, and my eyebrows rise to my hairline at this statement. I'm not crazy about the idea of being dragged on monster-infested trips by these so-called human tanks, but this idea and explanation might be even less to my liking. At least a thousand different situations appear in my mind about what funny and extremely deadly excitement Laswell's little team gets involved in, which does not bode well for me, to put it mildly. Until now, I knew that private units and squads were always involved in something nebulous and questionable if not outright deadly deals, but the fact that I just had to end up with one that, according to them, specializes in getting their hands dirty, squeezing my stomach like a lemon.

As the dream of my Healer position, which is relatively tolerable and definitely conducive to escape, begins to disintegrate before my eyes, I start to get more and more nervous. Of course, I should be happy that perhaps during the training I might acquire skills that will increase the probability of me being able to disappear at the first opportunity, like the father who went down to get milk. But I know very well that this will be more of a survival test and a cabaret than sincere help. I understand why it's good to be close at hand when shit hits the fan, but what the hell are these weapon-laden, super-fast, super-strong, super-whatever professional killing machines doing if I'm forced to huddle next to them like a squire? Why don't they just bring themselves back in one piece while I comfortably wait for them here?

"Don't worry, love, we'll be careful not to harm ya!" MacTavish grins widely, showing all his teeth, and I suddenly feel an irresistible desire to try to throw myself at him and strangle him despite my handcuffs. Because now he's clearly having fun at my expense, along with his stupid captain, and I'm cursing myself more and more for even thinking that fate would spare me. Of course, there was no doubt that they would want to use me as intended, but I didn't expect that they would find creative ways to make my life difficult. But, right, those who are stupid should die, those who have hope and may even be presumptuous should accept that others will mop the floors with them. Because I have no doubt that they will.

"Since you will be performing Healer duties to all four of our Hunters, therefore, of course, they all participate in your training. This will at least give you a chance to get used to the team better." Laswell continues her explanation, and as I grasp what this will mean for me, for the first time, my mood becomes genuinely sullen and a sour taste fills my mouth. My mind is slowly starting to process the situation, and now I can see exactly what kind of predicament I'm in. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be unthinkable for a Healer to take care of several Hunters, but since they are not trained for efficient energy management, they quickly reach their tolerance limit. So, in most cases, a Healer can take on a maximum of two Hunters, and they can only manage to do this if they're treated with a very gracious attitude, and if of course none of their little clients are ranked S or higher. And now these people seize the opportunity, and they throw all four tough guys at me, who I will cheerfully accompany to wherever their heroic adventures will take them after they give me lessons on how to take care of myself. I can safely assume that Laswell was on the lookout for years for an Extreme who can handle all of this, who due to their self-healing skill has very little chance of dying when her little boys drag them into a bloodbath. So, all this big fuss happened because her team wasn't able to take care of their toys that well until now. Their Healers at best became useless if not died, either during a mission or due to the high energy demand of healing injuries or regeneration. Of course, it's not surprising, because Healers are not designed for this action-packed lifestyle. "Of course, if a life-threatening injury were to occur in the case of soldiers occupying other positions in the unit, then you must take care of them as well."

I'm not even surprised by this addition, because it almost dwarfs what was outlined for me. I study the Hunters again involuntarily, and I can't shake the thought creeping into my skull on slimy and disgusting legs that this unit specializes in even riskier missions than what Laswell disclosed. Even government-run liquidation units sometimes get involved in crime prevention, but in none of these cases do the Hunters go on missions that are so long-winded or perilous that a Healer needs to be present to immediately patch up the little heroes. That's why I have mixed feelings about the suggestion that I'll get involved in potentially fatal adventures in the future, and this finally puts an honest seriousness on my face. Regardless of what I theorized as a possible outcome when Laswell first appeared in front of me, I think it's time that if the promise of a livable life is gone, I do something to at least make sure my chances of survival don't end up the same. Here, Leona, you ran away from your supposed duties for more than ten years, and now you are being chased into the dick-forest with your mouth open. Make sure you at least enjoy it.

"Marvellous. But I hope everyone is also aware that in order to perform this honorable task well, I will need blood." I warn Laswell, because at this point I feel that subtlety is unnecessary, and at least something beneficial should come out of all of this shitshow for me as well. And before the aforementioned could intervene, I flash my sharp gaze at her. "It's not optional, it's a fairly well-known fact. If I don't get blood, I won't be able to use my ability. And for a party of this caliber, I need more than just a taster. But liters."

"You don't have to worry about that. Now that you're here, you can officially feed under supervision." Laswell reassures me, and for some reason, in addition to the relief, I still have the feeling that this sounds much simpler than what it actually will be.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of ya'! " MacTavish speaks up again joining my encouragement, and it starts to become clear that the guy has a comment about everything, which he likes to let out every chance he gets. But he seems to be the one who gives me the least cause for concern, and who does not seem the one who intends to unnecessarily complicate my existence. How kind of him to reassure me many times that I didn't walk into a den full of wolves. The little liar.

"Great. Now that we've laid out the groundwork, let's talk about the details." Laswell begins with her formal tone again, and I, suppressing a tired sigh, fight my way into a more comfortable position, preparing to take in all further crap that is rolled in my direction. However, my light eyes are inevitably drawn back to the Hunters, who are currently occupying every one of my brain cells capable of thinking. And as my gaze meets that of the masked man, who has been silent since the beginning of the discussion, but no less threatening, the woman's voice fades into a monotonous murmur in my ears. Even though at first glance I thought that all Hunters exuded the same sinister and heavy aura equally, I soon had to realize that there was much more hidden in the dark eyes that shone behind the mask. Just a few seconds of Riley's undivided attention is enough, and I feel the little hairs on my back rise instinctively. Because it becomes quite obvious that he is a true predator and sees me as nothing more than his prey. And if he promises one thing right now, it's that he'll do everything to make sure I don't forget this wandering silent warning.

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sentimentalalien · 20 days

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""Elderly Palestinian couple looking at their former home, now occupied by a couple from Brooklyn. 🇵🇸" [@/RamAbdu on X. April 4th, 2024.]" Wtf is this? Like no source, nothing? Just a wild accusation with antisemitic rhetoric: "all israeli jews are American settlers from Brooklyn who steal Palestinian homes" from some random on twitter? This is why leftist jews distance themselves. That pic literally looks like a convo between neighbors over a gate. We don't even know their names. We don't even know if that pic is from Palestine. One day you will look back at all the weird shit you posted (with good intentions perhaps, but that doesn't erase the impact they have on marginalized people) that is so misguided and bigoted and you'll feel really bad. If I were you I'd delete that post but like Im not gonna stick around to find out.

it's just past 7am where I live, and I can already feel like maybe I shouldn't be writing this response, especially since it seems like you don't want to engage with me in a good faith discussion about the post

here are some links to fact checking that post in particular, and I will agree that there is context missing and the way the couple are attributed to being from brooklyn, i should have thought more of the rhetoric being used there but i didn't, and had you come to me expressing that sentiment or showing me these sources i've now easily found, i would have apologized, and i am apologizing now for it, and i would have taken the post down

but i won't be doing that here because even when i reblogged the post i did not think it was referring to the current genocide that is being labeled a conflict, it was indicative of how the palestinian people have experienced israeli occupation for so long the links i've provided show the photo is not in fact neighbors having a conversation, nor did any of the body language in that picture indicate to me this interaction was in any way friendly or neighborly, the israeli couple do now live the land owned by the palestinian couple's family before it was seized in 1948 by israeli occupiers, and when the israeli couple were asked how they felt about this they said they didn't feel anything i will be adding a comment to the post pointing out the inaccuracies and antisemitic rhetoric so i thank you for pointing that out to me

i don't have a tactful way of saying this, but i suppose it doesn't matter since you've already said you aren't sticking around so

it is possible for multiple groups to be marginalized at the same time

jewish people do not deserve to be viewed or treated as hatefully as they have been and continue to be

that does not negate the harm israeli actions have caused for palestinians

anyways i wish you well on your journey

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nofrndofmine · 9 months

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Hello, I heard you were the coiner of the bsoup last names !! I really like them but personally as a Tamizhan I disagree with Diya’s last name as Soma is not a traditional Tamil last name (more common in West India) . I was just curious where you had chosen the last name from. ( Sorry if my English is bad . )

Hi!! Yes I coined the most commonly used surnames for the main four!

I apologize greatly for the inaccuracies with Diya’s specifically. I believe I started looking for surnames summer 2020 to give them because I was tired of calling them all *First Name* Butterfly Soup. Diya’s I remember took the longest to properly research and find, but because I did this so long ago I won’t be able to find the sources I used.

I do remember specifically that I tried to find multiple sources for each surname that said each would be accurate. I knew at the time that I wanted Diya’s surname to start with an S, and I found some websites listing Tamil surnames. I remember finding both “Soma” and “Soman”, and I dug fairly deep to make sure “Soma” specifically would be okay and accurate, as there wasn’t a lot of information on it in general, but surname websites I feel are always kinda shady and I can never tell whether or not what I read on them is accurate information.

I just really liked “Soma” for her, and I’ll admit the lengths I had to go to to prove to myself it’d be an accurate one for her were lengthy and the websites that told me it was were certainly not the most trustworthy or reliable, so I apologize for my inaccuracy there! But I promise I tried my best and found some places that said it’d be accurate!

I hope this doesn’t come across as me trying to say you’re wrong, cause I believe you! Her surname specifically I was never sure was correct or accurate, but no one had told me otherwise until now so thank you for doing so!

I am afraid though the damage has sorta been done already? I never gave them surnames myself with the intent of them spreading as far as they did, but when I talked about them the fandom was very tiny, and my small circle of friends liked the surnames and started using them too, and it sorta spread from there? Between me using them in my own fics, and my friends using them in their own fics and fanart and whatnot, they ended up spreading pretty far across Butterfly Soup fans, to the point that people I’ve never even spoken to know them but don’t know I made them which is wild.

Would you happen to have any suggestions for more accurate surnames for Diya? Or know of any places that have good lists of surnames? Or if “Soman” would be a more accurate one for her? I remember that one came up more often than “Soma”. And I can try my absolute hardest to push the new surname for her on my Twitter where I have more bfs fans following me than on here if you’d like?

But thank you for informing me! I apologize again for the inaccuracy and also if I misspoke about anything here. I hope this provided adequate insight as to my process when finding the surnames and also more context behind them and how they spread.

If you wanna maybe dm me here or on twt or insta if you wanna talk about this further? I’m @/nofrndofmine on everything. Or you can comment on this post or send another ask or not respond at all, whatever you want really! Thank you and apologies again!

#and your English is great I promise!#idk if I should put this in the main tag or not I haven’t seen my surnames used on tumblr too much #nico speaks sometimes

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chimpukampu · 2 years

Photo

Here’s another AU art challenge but for BOTW Link!

I had a hard time picking which fics to draw coz there are tons of awesome BOTW AUs in AO3! And it’s a struggle to choose between Link and Zelda 😖

Below is the list of fics and its respective AO3 links (hehe):

Falling in Glove with You (T) by @ghostgirl19posts - This is my first modern-day Zelink fics that I’ve read, and also the first fic that made me squeal coz the author is one of my fave ML writers!

Flour, water, salt, yeast, love (T) by @zeldaelmo - One of my fave Advent Calendar fics, and I really appreciate how to author made a timely post on this

Honor Among Thieves (G) by @dawn-the-rithmatist - One of the best Zelink fics that has a combo of crack and angst, and I always look forward for its update

Hindsight (G) by @fatefulfaerie - This is my first Yiga!Link fic that I’ve read where Zelda disguised herself as a Sheikah, and even though the fic was a bit short, I actually enjoyed reading their interesting dynamics. Also Link loves bananas like a true Yiga lol

Antumbra (T) by @embyrinitalics - Reading this fic was pretty wild from start to finish, and the angst, oh man the angst...

Filling Graves with Ghosts (T) by @tallyacestories - I don’t have any BOTW-related AU yet, so I decided to use the Bonus slot to one of my face HWAOC x BOTW fics. I’m excited to know if Link and Zelda will ever meet their counterpart 100 years ago

I took some creative liberties on these btw so apologies if there are any inaccuracies 😣

#all of the fics here are Zelink #BOTW Zelink is one of my comfort ship and I'm not ashamed of it #botw #breath of the wild #loz breath of the wild #loz botw #botw link #zelink #loz art #loz #my art

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insane-fangirl · 2 years

Text

A New Soldier *Part 3*

Part 1 Part 2

DISCLAIMER (It has some semi-kind-maybe-not really- important info so please read)- the script I was using to write this was taken off the internet half way through me writing this so I apologize to the inaccuracy in dialogue and timelines. I'm just going based off memory so this is where things get a little sketchy.... I hope you still enjoy :) Also, momma nat is coming soon so don't worry, I know she hasn't has like any part in this yet. Sorry again that this took wayyyyy too long to get out.... Anyways this is a reminder that requests are open!!!

"They're unstable. He's erratic." A scientist pokes at y/n as she sits next to her father. He speaks to Alexander Pierce who has entered the room.

"Winter Soldier, mission report." he barks out. The man doesn't answer as he stares at a crack in the concrete wall behind the HYDRA agents.

"Glitch, mission report, now." y/n doesn't respond either, not knowing how to process what happened on the bridge. Her dad knew those guys, or rather those guys knew her dad. What did they call him? It started with a B... She cursed herself for not remembering.

"The man on the bridge," the Winter Soldier starts, "Who was he?"

His voice was gentle. It was not the same man who had just injured 19 civilians and was out on a murder mission.

Alexander shifts uncomfortably on his feet and readjusts his stance. "You met him earlier this week on another assignment."

"I knew him"

Pierce looks slightly exasperated when he takes a seat in front of Bucky. Y/n could see the thick layer of sweat that formed on his forehead.

"Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. We're gonna give it a push. But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves," Alexander looks y/n in the eyes before continuing, "This goes for you as well. You've done very well so far. But you are still lacking the skills that keep you from being as good as your father. Perhaps some parts of you are a little too human..." He trails off before looking at man beside her again.

"But I knew him" Y/n had never seen her father push Alexander, or any other superior, this much before. She knew there must be something special about this blue-eyed hunk. However she also knew that nothing good ever came from remembering.

Unlike her father, she didn't have anything before HYDRA. The things she remembered kept her in fear. She was never wiped because they never wanted her to be wiped. They never wanted her to forget.

Her father was kept obedient by forgetting, and she was kept obedient by her memories.

Alexander sighed deeply before getting up and turning to walk out.

"Wipe him. Throw her back in her cell. Or you may have your little play time. She was not a good girl today, was she?"

A guard roughly grabbed her by the arm to drag her into the hall. Before they shut the metal doors she heard her fathers protests muffled by the mouth guard. She could see his chest rise and fall as he took wild breaths.

As the HYDRA agent walked her down the hall, she shuffled her feet making him pull her arm harder.

"Come on you bitch, if you keep this up I'm gonna tell the other guys to just kill you since you clearly can't complete a simple fucking mission."

Y/n signed knowing there was nothing she could do to make this end. Her father, the one person who tried to look out for her, was being tortured just down the hall and she had done nothing. A hot bubble of anger was building in her chest.

It was directed at HYDRA for putting them through this and not giving her any shot at a childhood. It was directed at Alexander Pierce who was playing a double agent. But mostly, it was directed at herself for not doing anything. She felt hopeless.

She wanted to know what HYDRA had planned and she wanted to know why her father knew those people and she wanted to know who her mother was and she wanted to know now because the feeling in her chest kept growing and it had an infinite amount of hatred to feed on.

She sat down on the stiff mattress in her cell that she didn't remember entering. She, for the first time since her infant years, cried. She cried for the life that she didn't get to live and she cried for the life she was forced to live.

*2 weeks later*

Y/n mindlessly pulled the gloves over her fingers and grabbed a mask from the rack. A numbness washed over her in waves as she crept out the door. Her father had been wiped again which meant it was going to be another couple days or maybe even weeks until he spoke to her as more than a comrade.

This period of silence also meant that she had to prep for missions alone.

She scowled as she had to pull her gloves back off so she could braid her own hair. Wrapping the tie around the end of the braid, she placed her gloves back on and followed her assigned guard to the hanger.

Side by side they entered the jet and headed toward their destination. Since they had failed to eliminate Steve Rogers the first time, he had gotten into HYDRA information and revealed Alexander Pierce.

Their job was to stop Steve from stopping the helicarrier launch.

The soldier had been tasked with the personal assassination of Rogers while Glitch was only to stop the other 2 he had taken with them. She wasn't technically assigned to kill them, but HYDRA usually preferred methods of disposal that guaranteed that they wouldn't need to be dealt with a second time.

HYDRA got them to the first helicarrier with ease, predicting the plan of their enemies. Soon enough the Falcon was flying overhead with Captain in his arms.

As soon as they landed the Winter Soldier wasted no time tackling Rogers off the aircraft and jumping down to the next platform below.

Y/n leapt out from behind a cargo box and kicked the Falcon in the middle of his chest. He flew back a few feet before he thought to use his wings to suspend himself in the air. In an attempt to fight back, he pulled out two guns.

The fiery wind bit at y/n's back while she hid behind a metal piece of machinery. She could hear the clanking of the bullets against the metallic surface; the sound echoing around her. Eventually came the final click of the empty barrel.

The Falcon tried to cease the opportunity of y/n's lack of attention and flew off, presumably to help Captain. However, y/n managed to latch onto part of his suit and threw the man across the helicarrier, tearing off one of the wings in the process. With one final kick to the stomach, Sam Wilson was flung over the rail and fell to the ground.

The smell of tar and something burning was thick in the air. It burned y/n's nostrils as she took a deep breath to steady her heart rate.

She thought about helping the Soldier, but when she looked over the railing, the pair was no where in sight. Her mission didn't involve Captain anyways.

She set her feet in a new destination. She was on her way to find Agent Romanoff.

If you didn't read the disclaimer at the top... go do that please lol. I'm gonna start part 4 so maybe there isn't as long of a wait this time...

#bucky barnes #y/n #marvel #avengers #the winter soldier #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky x daughter #steve rogers #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #hydra #natasha romanoff #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natahsa romanoff x daughter!reader

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feralrunaway · 3 years

Text

Yrsa

Summary: A supernatural AU from this prompt: “Berserker Captain Syverson, and ‘I want to hear you beg for it’.” from @mrsaugustwalker’s Great Writing Challenge.

Pairing: Berserker!Sy x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, wild historical inaccuracies, mentions of slavery, SMUT, soulmates, primal sex, rough sex, oral sex, claiming/mating (consensual), dominant male, virgin reader, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, there’s probably more, just like…this fic is 18+, okay?

A/N: Okay so this prompt was originally meant to be just a quick, smutty “Hell yeah, Viking warrior Sy!” thing but noooo, I went completely off the rails with this so I’m just going to apologize in advance. I started writing this intending an inclusive second person perspective, but I did end up including some things that will not resonate with all. This is nothing like what I usually write, PLEASE heed the warnings. So, without further ado…let’s get weird.

———————

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

The man leered at you, the stench of his rotten teeth reaching you even through the bars of the makeshift prison fitted to the back of the slaver’s wagon. He cackled at your deep glare, holding the small tray of hard bread and day-old vegetables just out of reach.

“Got us another stubborn one. Don’t worry, pretty girl. You’ll come around soon enough, yeah? They always get hungry eventually.” He pawed at your ankle through the bars and you growled, kicking out at him but narrowly missing, and he cackled again. “Give it time, little bear. You’ll be begging for me to come back soon enough.”

You bared your teeth at him as he left, stubbornly refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you beg. You would rather starve to death than bend to the will of your captors.

“So feisty still. Don’t worry, yrsa. They will tire of the taunting when you give them less sport.”

You looked to the woman on your left. Likely a great beauty under normal circumstances, her long thick braids were slightly disheveled, her fine blue shift covered in smears of dirt indicating she had put up a fair few struggles herself before adopting the bored expression she now held. She gave off an air of strength, even in the cramped, miserable quarters of the cage. Fierce features and a regal air made you desire to lean into her strength, however feigned, but you resisted.

You huffed and threw yourself back against the bars before drawing your arms around yourself. The late autumn chill was seeping in now that the sun had gone down and you spared a brief glance at the fire the slavers were huddled around. You would not be jealous.

“And how is it you ended up in this mess? You look as if you could walk away whenever you choose,” you grouse.

She spared you half of a sardonic smile and lifted the hem of her dress enough to reveal heavy manacles latched to both her ankles and secured to a bolt below her feet.

“They learned quickly. Stuck here for the time. Besides, if…when I get out of here, my brother will have my head for letting my axe out of my sight long enough for these brutes and brigands to get their hands on me.”

You sniffed, feeling a bit chastised for your annoyance toward the woman.

“What about you, Little Bear?” she prompted with a smirk, looking over your attire, “You’re obviously not from here. Did your father owe someone too much money?”

You huffed again. “My father died when I was a baby. My mother too. I was taken quite far away and raised by my aunt. I was venturing into your lovely lands to find out if I had more family or any history here. Much to my current despair,” you finished, rolling your eyes.

The two of you sat in tense silence for moments, soaking in your venomous wrath toward the men who had taken you by surprise at the last village you had stopped at for the night. Brigands, both local and foreign to these cold Northern lands. The bottom of the barrel, operating solely out of greed for what they could profit on when pulling lone humans from their beds at each place they passed by. Violence and chaos left in their wake.

“Do you have any idea where they are taking us?” you prompted when the silence grew too heavy.

“South most likely, toward Hedeby. There is a trading settlement there. We won’t make it that far,” she expressed with a surety you envied.

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

Asbjørn Syversson stood before the forest’s edge, observing the small caravan. For the last seven days the Berserkir warriors had tracked the thieves, the last three of which they had kept them in their sights. Three days of concealment among the trees, observing their soon-to-be prey. Three days to delve into the rituals so vital to communion with the bear spirit within. To prepare for battle.

The brigands had stolen the king’s sister from the village she had been visiting. The idiots had no idea who they had among them, the danger they had placed themselves in. The king had called upon his Berserkirs to retrieve her and punish the men. They had no idea the hell that was about to rain down upon them.

Syversson shifted on his feet, suppressing the straining beast within. Something was different about this hunt. Something that scratched at his skin, woke his senses. A…scent in the air, one that got stronger as they narrowed the gap to the traveling party.

His men, sensing his tension, rose to their feet behind him, readying themselves to allow the bear spirit free reign of their bodies.

“It is time.”

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

“There, now you look like a proper Northwoman,” your companion laughed as she finished braiding your hair. You had learned her name was Bodil. She had quickly found that maintaining conversation was a fine way to distract you from your anger long enough to convince you to eat.

“Mm. Just in time to be sold like livestock. We seem to be getting closer to our destination,” you remarked glumly. “I’m sorry your hope of a rescue did not come true.”

Bodil chuckled. “Oh hardly, my sweet friend. They’ve been tracking us for days. I’m surprised you had not noticed them yourself.”

“I am no tracker. How was I to have noticed?” you replied, a sudden bloom of hope erupting in your chest.

She hummed in reply, avoiding answering.

Your eyes skimmed the perimeter of the camp as the brigands prepared their evening fires. You saw nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Bodil was just being hopeful, imagining a rescue that would never come. Or perhaps she was telling you such things to ease the worry in your heart until you reached the trading settlement.

“Rest now,” she said, obviously sensing your doubt, “They will come soon.”

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

You jolted awake to the sound of a deafening roar.

Disoriented, you cowered to the corner of the pen, trembling.

“Do not hide girl,” Bodil said. She turned to you, grinning like a madwoman, her eyes alight and fierce. “You will not want to miss this.”

You crept forward slowly and looked out between the bars. The camp was in disarray, men tearing themselves from their sleeping rolls to gather weapons, their countenances dripping with fear.

Another fierce roar vibrated across the land, and this time through your chest, down your spine, and down even to your toes. Your heart pounded. Your hands gripped the bars and you pressed forward to see. When your eyes fell upon the source of the brigands’ fear, your mouth went dry.

Perhaps ten men (if you could call them that, for they were the largest men you had ever seen) approached the camp at a swift pace. They wore no shirts, not a stitch of armor amongst them. They were bare from the waist up save for the skin of a bear draped across their shoulders, some with the pelt covering their own scalp and the face of a bear hanging over their foreheads. Every one of them thick with muscle and their eyes completely feral. These were more animal than man.

“What are they?” You asked, hating the tremble in your voice.

“Berserkirs. My brother’s prized warriors. Our most fearsome defenders. The spirit of a bear resides inside each of them. Part man, part beast. And very entertaining, if you understand me,” Bodil’s eyes were alight with both humor and fervor. This woman must be insane, you thought.

Their leader charging in the front of the group let out one more deafening roar, his almost-fangs on full display, the corded muscle in his neck pulsing beneath a thick tangle of beard. The sound rang through you again, causing every nerve of your body to leap to awareness. Then they descended upon the camp.

Axes and swords swung high, arcs of blood following in their wake. Some did not even bother with weapons, tearing into their foes with their bare hands. Men…well, parts of what used to be men…were thrown to and fro in their battle fury. An errant arm smacked against the bars of the cage that separated you and Bodil from the fray, before landing in the mud with a thump. You yipped in surprise, falling back onto your rump. The sound drew the attention of the man nearest you, their leader. His inhuman eyes locked onto your face momentarily, sending a jolt of lightening through your senses, before he tore his gaze away and back to the slaughter.

You turned toward Bodil to see she was still smiling, battle-lust strong in her eyes. Her fingers moving of their own accord as though she wished she was participating as well. Not that she would have had much to do, as the battle was quite brief, and soon you found yourself staring over a campsite of slain men. The Berserkirs stood breathing heavily amongst the bodies, each one of them covered in a spray of blood.

Their leader locked eyes with you again before moving closer. You felt rooted in place, your chest heaving.

“Asbjørn, son of Syver. Leader of my brother’s warriors,” Bodil identified as he placed his hands on the bars. He seemed not to notice the introduction, eyes roaming over you. He sniffed the air slowly. He may have been the most beautiful, most terrifying man you had ever laid eyes upon. His bare chest was covered in thick curls of hair that trailed down his stomach and below the waist of his pants. Your view felt locked upon him, drawn to his handsome features. As your eyes trailed back up to his face, he cocked his head to the side slightly as though in question. Suddenly the muscles in his chest and arms bunched, and the bars were torn away with a resounding crack that jolted you to your core.

“Yrsa,” his deep, gravelly voice caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine.

“What does that mean?” You asked, unable to take your eyes off the formidable creature devouring you with his gaze. You felt a heat blooming in your lower belly the longer he stood there, drinking you in.

“She-bear. His spirit recognizes yours, I gather. Have fun with that one, my little friend,” Bodil grinned wickedly as another of the men came over and hacked open the chain of her manacles with an axe and she leapt from the makeshift cage.

“B-but Bodil! Wait!” you tried, but she was already walking off, pausing only to pull an abandoned axe from the chest of a slain man and jauntily following the men who were now stripping the camp of any valuables and making their way back to the woods.

You had no option but to turn your attention back to the very intense, very intimidating stare of the warrior blocking your own exit from the carriage. Had this been a rescue only meant for one? It only occurred to you in that moment that you were still a stranger here. One who had been meant to be sold as property. Would these men have a similar intention? Perhaps you were quite stupid in that moment, but the thought made you angry, so you returned the intensity of his stare with a low growl in his direction.

To your complete and utter bemusement, it drew a slight smile from the man. He reached out toward you and you flinched back, earning a sharp look from him. But instead of his hand harming you, he simply ran one of your braids over his open palm in a seemingly reverent gesture. He then leaned in closer, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed in your scent. He hummed low in his throat, causing you to clench involuntarily.

It was then you lost all your senses. You dove under his arm out of the carriage and rolled through the mud to your feet, taking off at a sprint. To where, you had no idea. You likely had no hope of outrunning the man or his party, no idea why you even were. It’s not like he had harmed you, quite the opposite in fact. But the loss of control over your own reactions in combination with the brutality of the battle you had just seen take place had your primal instincts running high, so your only thought was to flee.

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

Syversson watched you scamper away like a frightened rabbit. He tamped down his instinctual urge to give chase. You wouldn’t get far in these unfamiliar woods.

He walked back to the woods to the camp where Bodil and his men waited, using the time to wrestle his own bear-spirit back into submission. He’d never felt anything remotely similar to the feeling that had clawed through his body when he laid eyes on you. Raw, fierce, visceral desire. Not just of the flesh, but an impassioned, soul-deep hunger had overtaken him. He needed to know you. Taste you. Feel your aromatic, soft skin under his fingers. But more than anything, he desired to mark you. In every way possible. To dominate and make you unquestionably his.

Tense, he crossed the final distance into the woods to where his men would camp for the night. Several pairs of half-golden eyes trained themselves to him as he approached, fading back into their normal hues as the men’s own spirits returned to the forefront of their consciousness.

“Return the shield-maiden to her brother. I will join you in the great hall in one week’s time,” was all he managed to grit out, before turning to gather his own sparse belongings and setting off in the direction you had run, Bodil’s knowing laughter fading into the forest at his back.

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

So stupid. Absolutely idiotic. You had made a mistake.

You had always had a fondness for the forest back home. You spent inordinate amounts of time trekking and exploring the trees near your aunt’s village. You had thought you would be fine on your own. How wrong you were.

These Northern woods were thick, unfamiliar, and disorienting. And so cold. You had wandered for nearly a day and a half and not found your way out. Completely lost and frightened, you sat down on the trunk of an overturned tree to soak in your own despair for a while. Fuck. You shivered, your kirtle was half soaked with frozen mud. You needed to find shelter or build a fire before the sun set or you would freeze in your sleep. You needed food. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Giving yourself a mental shake, you stood and made to trek on.

An hour later you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave, the darkness inside both intimidating and inviting. You wanted desperately to shelter inside and begin building a fire with the wood you had gathered. You crept inside the mouth of the cave, moving slowly. Once inside, you placed down the wood and set to work stacking it and preparing the fire, your unease drifting away as you worked. Relief hit you as the first small flames began licking up the stack of wood and you held your hands toward it to warm them as you knelt on the stone ground.

Within minutes your frozen fingers had thawed and you began wondering whether it was worth the effort to find food to gather as darkness began to fall outside. Perhaps you should sleep and worry about finding food in the morning light. You raised your head to assess the best place to lay yourself near the fire, and found yourself staring right into a reflective pair of eyes.

You gasped and fell back, scrambling away from the large grey wolf staring at you from across the fire. It began moving closer to you, its lips pulling away from its teeth as it paced slowly in your direction. You racked your mind, desperate to think of a way out of this situation as the animal drew nearer. Was this it? Rescued from slavers only to be eaten alive by an angry denizen of the forest? Your fear of the Berserkirs seemed ridiculous to you now. What you wouldn’t give to have that feral strength present in this moment.

You tried to slowly scoot yourself closer to the fire. If you could just grab hold of one of the flaming logs, perhaps you could scare the wolf away. At a snail’s pace, you crept your arm along the stone ground, reaching, leaning. Your fingers finally closed around the base of one of the torches and you tugged it lightly toward yourself. Weapon in hand now, you pulled yourself back just as slowly, desperate not to attract the wrath of the creature in front of you with any sudden movements.

But just as you brought it near, your plan was foiled as the stacked wood from the fire collapsed, popping and crackling as it sent a plume of embers flying toward both yourself and your adversary. The wolf, agitated and emboldened by the sudden commotion, launched itself at you. Its jaws agape, the mass of fur and claws signaled your bitter, sad end. There was nothing left for you to do but scream your last rebellious cry at the world as you swung the torch toward your own doom.

But you never made contact.

A roar reverberated through the stone walls of the cave, and something much larger and more furious made impact with the creature, throwing both itself and the wolf past the burning mess that was your fire. Two bodies made impact against the stone, growling, tumbling. Yips and roars of pain could be heard as your eyes made out the color of a man’s flesh tangled against the grey fur of the wolf and the deep, sanguine rivulets of fresh blood.

Syversson.

You watched, frozen, as the absolute beast of a man tore into his adversary. A battle between two animals took place before your eyes, fear and pity warring in your heart for both combatants. Another pained yip tore through the air and the wolf was thrown from the man. Clearly taking it as a signal to its defeat, the animal began a limping run toward the mouth of the cave. The man shot to his feet, clearly intending to give chase, but you had seen too much. You shot up to intercept him, and pressed both hands against his chest.

“No! Please, no. It’s gone. Please.”

You were sure that he could easily knock you aside, but not much could be said in favor of your sense of self-preservation lately anyway. But to your surprise, he halted. His near-golden eyes slowly swiveled to your face, then down to where your palms lay firmly against his sculpted chest. His massive ribcage expanded with a deep breath, which he expelled as a firm chuff in your direction, clearly intending to signal his displeasure. Your knees weakened considerably at the action, but you stood as firm as you could, setting your jaw and glaring into his eyes.

His eyebrows drew together as he observed your actions, his muscles dancing tense underneath your hands. It was obvious he was fighting for control over the beast inside himself. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest, making your toes curl against the rough stone floor. Your now trembling fingers pressed more firmly against him in an attempt to guide him back.

“You’re hurt, please. Let me help you.”

His eyes traveled to where yours indicated, a deep gash across his shoulder that now sluggishly leaked blood. Your tone was clearly soothing enough for the large man, because he relented, allowing you to push him back toward the rough walls. Guiding him to sit, you quickly tore and gathered what clean cloth you could from your underdress, the over being still covered in now-dried but only slightly less frozen mud from your journey. You carefully wrapped the cloth around the wound and up under the pit of his arm before tying it off. You prayed to the gods you would be able to find clean water soon to wash it, but this would do for now. He never once winced with your ministrations, just monitored your face continuously with those eyes that were slowly fading from gold to a striking blue.

“Are you…are you human again now?”

He chuckled at that. “Yrsa, I will never be fully human. But my bear spirit has settled for the time, if that is what you mean.”

“Why did you follow me?” you asked, “Do you mean to sell me like those men did?”

A fierce anger overtook his features at that.

“Sell you?! Never! I followed you because you are mine. Your spirit calls to mine, do you not feel it?”

You felt something, sure. But what was he talking about? Whatever you felt was surely just part of all the fear and exhaustion and bafflement at the entire situation you had found yourself in. “Y-yours? I don’t understand.”

“My mate.”

“Your…what? I don’t know what you mean,” you found yourself intrigued, but instincts had you moving back from him. You wouldn’t run this time, no. He had proven to be no harm to you, but you also weren’t sure what this mate business was all about and you weren’t sure what his intentions toward you were because of it.

“Perhaps it would be better if I showed you,” he said with a smirk, unfurling his legs and leaning forward toward you. He was an imposing man, all muscle and fur and gleaming teeth. Your breath quickened as he towered over your sitting form, moving closer until he hovered right above you. He sniffed at your hair, your neck, causing shivers to run the length of your body. You found yourself overwhelmed and unable to concentrate on anything but his own musky scent; earth, salt, and the coppery tang of blood lingered around him. Something primal within you reacted to it, causing you to inhale another deep lungful as your core clenched and you pressed your thighs together. His arm reached out, and you unconsciously braced for whatever he was about to do to you.

He grasped one of the logs from the fire and smirked at you again, then set himself to rebuilding the mess that had become of your makeshift camp. You watched, confused.

“You’re mine. Your soul was meant for mine. And mine for yours. I do intend to show you that, in many, many pleasurable ways. But most importantly, I will take care of you.” He gathered the furs you had seen him don previously and arranged them by the fire. “Come.”

You stared, unmoving.

“It is cold. You are shivering. Come.”

Your mouth gaped slightly.

“I-“

“Come.”

Your body drew you to him, unbidden by your own will. As though some soul-deep part of you begged to obey his command. You lay yourself down, stiffly at first, though you relaxed as you drew closer to the warmth of the fire and furs. Feeling nearly delirious as your own body and desire betrayed your stubbornness. Perhaps this is how it ends, a small part of your psyche whispered. Perhaps this is how it begins, whispered another.

“Yes, yrsa. You are safe now. Lay with me,” he whispered in your ear as he enveloped you in his large frame and drew the furs around you both.

And oh if his skin wasn’t deliciously heated against your own, which up until that point you had subconsciously feared would never be fully warm again. Fine tremors wracked their way up your spine as you allowed yourself to relax into the feeling of him pressed up against you. His massive, muscled arm came around you, the pressure just enough to make you feel tender and encapsulated without feeling trapped.

The sound that rumbled from his chest as he felt you relax against him was both delicious and foreign at once. The deep, guttural hum seeped into your muscles and bones like the drum of a war march and the tranquility of a summer rain simultaneously. Could you reach euphoria from a single sound?

Your eyelids sunk heavily as your pupils reached a zenith. A final shudder listed lazily through your being as you were drawn deeply into unconsciousness, feeling wholly, irrationally, for the first time since you were a child, that you were well and truly cared for.

_____________

It wasn’t until the dead of the night, when the fire had burnt itself down to embers, that you awoke.

You weren’t sure of the cause at first, until that blissful hum penetrated into your half-lucid mind. The son of Syver remained stationed in a protective cocoon around your frame, though he stirred now, the movements of his deep breaths pressing him against you. As if he sensed your return to the world of the living, he nuzzled against your hair. No words needed spoken as you cued into the change in him.

Heat,

weight,

…need.

Any slight movements of your body caused you to press against that ardent need. The errant desire that pulsed through you at the realization caused your head to lull back against the firm wall of his chest, a low moan escaping your lips. That was all the encouragement he needed.

His large hands began to roam your body, causing all concerns to flutter away like petals of spring flowers blown in a heavy wind. You were suddenly devoid of all but a certain theme of awareness, drugged by the touch and vocalizations of a near-stranger. One who was no stranger at all, you knew deep down, for you were aware of who he was, regardless of any stubborn desire to rationalize.

You sensed the tension in him. The rapturous fury held leashed. The strength with which he held himself at bay did nothing but add to the heated desire building within you. This was part of you, you realized. A deeply dormant, visceral need contained in your soul which you had only just realized.

“Please.”

A needy whisper.

He groaned, muscles tremoring.

“Are you sure, yrsa? For I will not hold back once I have started.”

His proclamation was emphasized by a firm grip of your fleshy thigh, the painful pressure causing you to gasp.

“I have no desire to be gentle with you.”

You moaned again. “Please!” came your desperate, breathless consent.

He growled his approval against the skin of your neck as you were roughly rolled to your back.

His tongue darted out from between his thick, plush lips as it traced your collarbone. You arched upward toward his hungry form, pressing your chest against his as his body drew over yours.

“Your scent…your taste. It’s intoxicating,” he rumbled as his mouth further explored your skin. He moved up, capturing your mouth with his. He was not a gentle man. It was an almost furious kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue pressed between your lips and began to battle your own for dominance. His heavy frame pressed into you with the most delicious weight, settled between your legs as he rendered you nearly thoughtless with his mouth upon yours. He pulled back, his chest heaving, and you nearly followed his mouth in desperation for more. “I must taste more of you,” he rasped harshly.

Rough fingers tore asunder the top of your shift, your small noise of protest only seeming to encourage him further as he greedily palmed your breasts. Each of your nipples was laved in turn, sucked into the warmth of his mouth, causing your body to undulate against his as a torrent of sensations flowed through your form and straight to your core. The urgency emanating from him did not allow him to stop there though.

His tongue and lips danced down your body, his beard tracing a burning trail along your skin, setting alight parts of you that you hadn’t even been aware could burn. You were desperately near begging when he finally pushed your skirts up, his eyes drinking in the sight before him.

“So. Beautiful.”

His words alone were enough to send a river of arousal dripping from you, but the awe present on his rough, handsome features nearly threw you over the edge before he had even touched you. Never had you thought your body was capable of such desire and need. A small whine escaped from you, causing his attention to finally snap to its target. As he lowered his face to your apex, you instinctually pressed up toward him. The hum of approval that fell from his lips as they met your wet heat vibrated through you and nearly made you delirious. His hands gripped at your thighs, the painful pressure only adding to your euphoria as his tongue pressed against you, lapping at your sweet folds rhythmically, firmly. It felt as though he were sending waves of pleasure through you, building to larger and larger cascades until they crested over an unyielding shore. You had never felt anything of the sort, and were nearly blinded as the pressure building within you snapped and you cried out in bliss, shuddering against him, though his hands held your hips firmly in place.

He rose back over you, one arm holding his weight from crushing you, the other reaching a hand to wipe his beard.

“You are…the most delicious, most amazing woman I have ever tasted.”

You had no words to offer in return as you fought to catch your breath. You stared up into his eyes as they devoured your countenance. The beautiful azure was slowly being tinged by gold. You watched in absolute awe as the stain wandered across his vision, not fully, but enough to tell you he was being consumed by instinct. The sight shook you to your very essence, and your legs spread unconsciously as your desire built again. His low growl signaled to you that his desire was just as strong, reverberating through your bones, sinews, and to your very core. His lack of movement told you that he was still containing himself. Waiting for your permission.

He had it. He had that and more. Whatever this was between you, you wanted to let him in, to let him own every inch of you. You reached up and began unlacing his breeches, his impressive length pressing taut against the leather. As you pushed the fabric open and down, over his hips, he shuddered, muscles bunching in his arms and chest as he fought his own instincts long enough to let you lead this small part of your impending union.

His revealed anatomy astounded you, your lips parting slightly in awe. It was somehow the most beautiful and frightening thing you had ever laid eyes upon. His heartbeat thundered visibly, apparent in the pulsing veins that wove thick and proud around his girth. You reached out and lightly, hesitantly traced a finger along one. His growl deepened significantly, pleasure and frustration spilling out of him in the waves of sound. You looked to his eyes, pupils lust-blown and dark amongst the blue and gold of his irises. One moment suspended in time as your eyes met. There it was. That mystery that linked your two souls. Your mutual desire, care, and need hung like a tether between the two of you, stretched taut. He saw the change in you as you recognized it, and with that, he moved.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he pushed his hips forward slowly. The intrusion was vast against your untrained walls. The stretch, despite his preparation, was both painful and pleasurable and you keened as he pressed into you, inch by deliciously torturous inch, tearing asunder your resistance. Your fingers clawed for purchase against his chest as he bottomed out within you, his moan of pleasure furthering your descent into a near-feral woman. He allowed you a mere moment to adjust before the dam of his control finally broke, and he drew back and began to thrust into you in earnest.

You cried out as his pelvis rocked against yours, his length jutting into your core, his ridges burning friction against your soft walls. The painful pleasure of his rigid lust consumed you, ate up your thoughts until you were nothing but a being of pure, animalistic sensation. His face pressed against your neck, lips giving way to teeth as he marked your body as his. His rutting form enveloped you, skin pressing against skin, the coarse hairs of his chest creating further friction against your exposed breasts and nipples. As you cried out again, he pulled out completely.

His strong, calloused hands moved to your hips, flipping your body with ease onto all fours, and he slammed back into you without hesitation. You barely held yourself up as your body tremored all over. One of his arms snaked around your middle, holding you in position, as his other hand drew a possessive line down your back. This was it. This beast of a man would own you completely. Mesh his own soul with yours. And you wanted it so badly you ached.

His hips hit hard against you as his thrusts became impossibly stronger. The punishing rhythm he set made you feel as though you were being torn apart and put back together anew. His hand tangled in your hair, dragging you by a fistful up against his chest. He pressed his lips to your ear, his ragged breaths skimming pure bliss across your skin, causing your eyes to roll back behind closed lids.

“You are mine.”

His grunted proclamation built the burning intensity in your womb to a blazing inferno. Set fire to your soul. You doubted any other words could ever cause such passion to flame within you. But as his next words left his lips, you learned otherwise.

“I.”

His thrusts grew erratic. You felt him swell within you.

“Am.”

Your walls clutched him. The head of his cock slammed against your cervix.

“Yours.”

You fell apart. Fell to pieces. Your vision went white with ecstasy as you shuddered around him and screamed out your bliss.

His accompanying roar tore you asunder. He set his teeth into your neck as he came with a final slam of his cock into your abused hole. You could feel his hot seed spilling against your battered walls, soothing the delicious ache. Your trembling legs gave out below you and he eased you down to the fur-covered ground, collapsing beside you after he softened and pulled from you. You could feel his warm fluids dripping out of you and you shivered.

Syversson pulled you to him, turning you to rest your head against his heaving chest. His hand dipped down between your tremoring thighs and he ran his fingers through your gathered essence. A sigh escaped you as he touched you. Pulling his hand back up, he pressed his fingers against your lips, nudging them open. You laved your tongue around and between them, gathering every drop you could, sucking them clean. His softening manhood twitched at your actions and he groaned, pulling you up to kiss you. Your tongues danced around the taste of each other’s pleasure.

When he pulled away, you lay your head back down on him.

“Rest again now, yrsa. Tomorrow we begin the journey back to the great hall.”

His deep breaths had almost instantly soothed you into a near-slumber, but you had at least the energy to ask.

“And what will become of me when we get there?”

He closed his own eyes and smiled.

“We will go before the king, and I will make you my wife.”

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A million hugs and smooches to @thelastsock for betaing this for me.

(Dec 11, 2020)

#captain syverson #au #berserker

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

Note

Dental whump. Just had a procedure done and my mouth didn't freeze properly. I felt some of it.

Yikes that sucks my guy I hope you're okay. Idk if you wanted a drabble for that but you're getting a drabble. Also i apologize for the quality because I am ill so we're a little woozy out here

Ingredients: tooth whump/gore (wow), nonhuman/vampire whumpee, starvation mention, dehumanization, probably some medical and/or vampire inaccuracies

"Let me go, you sick fucks!" he shouted as he squirmed desperately against the guards holding him. If he wasn't fucking starving, maybe he'd actually be able to escape these humans, but as he was now, he was powerless against them, and he hated it. His bare feet scrambled against the tiled floor for purchase, but even in the little instances when he managed to find it, the relentless pull of the guards made sure any leverage he won from it was quickly snatched away.

They threw him down into the chair, managing to get his wrists and ankles strapped down despite his wild thrashing. The tight leather cut into his pale skin, and he couldn't stop straining against them even though he knew it was useless. Before he knew it a strap snaked over his heaving chest, too, and another over his forehead, yanking at the strands of his sweaty hair. By the time that sadistic bitch they were calling his handler had wandered in, he was secured to the chair, the tight straps making his limbs start to feel numb.

"Well, well, look who tried to escape again. I swear, you just can't seem to accept your current situation." She looked down at him with pity in her eyes, the same way one might look at a dog that had just gotten its head stuck in a fence.

"I don't need to accept-I don't fucking belong here, you bitch! Let me go I'm not a fucking monster-"

"Really? Then why did you bite one of the guards in your little escape attempt?"

"Because I was hungry! You feed me next to nothing-"

"No, soldier, we feed you just enough to keep you docile until you can be trained properly." She reached over and pulled another strap tight, this one over his chin, keeping his mouth shut tight. "If you're going to be useful to us someday as part of our vampire forces, you've got to learn only to bite and feed on humans when ordered to. So," she pulled on a pair of latex gloves, letting them snap against her wrists, "every time you use those fangs of yours without permission," she picked up an instrument from a nearby table, holding it where he could see, "we're going to have to confiscate them." She lowered the pliers, tapping something with her foot that caused the chair to start tilting back. "Temporarily, of course, I'm well aware that they'll grow back." He felt himself start to shake, she wasn't going do that, right? She-she wasn't going take his fangs, was she? That was barbaric, fucked up, sadistic-

A far too perfect fit for this place.

Once the chair was leaned back enough that he was practically lying down, she turned a small crank that tugged the strap over his chin down, forcing his jaws wide open, so wide it hurt. "There's those troublesome fangs of yours." She tapped one of them with the pliers, a sound he felt more than heard. He shuddered as she gripped his right one between the plier's jaws, metal scraping against his tooth as he shouted in protest. But she paid him no mind, tightening her grip as she started to pull. The pressure was almost too much, his screams of rage morphing into ones of pain as she yanked the tooth free, the agony gripping his entire face as blood, his blood, dripped down his throat. A faint tink was the last he heard from his stolen tooth, and then the pliers were in his mouth again.

He tried to shake his head, to beg, to plead, but all he could do was whine and let the tears trail down into his ears as she started pulling on his other fang. The pressure was so much more intense this time, so so much that it might just-

"Oops!"

He howled, jerking against the restraints with renewed fervor as his whole face throbbed in agony, little pieces of his shattered tooth collecting in his throat. She set aside the shard still in the pliers jaws before reaching in and gripping the jagged stump sticking halfway out of the socket. He coughed and sobbed and shook and whimpered but she paid him no mind, roughly yanking out the last remnants of tooth from his irritated gums before reaching far back, so far that he gagged, his mouth full of the taste of metal and blood and latex as she grabbed those last little pieces of his precious fang, those final shreds of his dignity going with them.

She unbuckled the straps on his face, allowing him to close his aching jaw. Her fingers gripped his chin tightly, tilting it to face her, pulling up his lip with the blood-slicked pliers. "Gods, you look ugly. I hope this lesson serves you well, young vampire. If you won't use your fangs on the military's behalf, then you don't deserve to have them."

He just closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath, feeling the cold air rush past the gaping holes where his fangs used to be. He didn't know if he'd have the strength to face that kind of punishment again.

And that was what scared him.

#i wrote something #tooth whump #gore #mouth whump #vampire whumpee #dehumanization cw #starvation cw #wow an ask #anon #my brain is full of swirly #standing up is literally an out of body experience #in conclusion: unedited! writing

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bangtanloverboys · 3 years

Text

found again // jhs

summary - forever was a very long time to be alone, but it was the safeest way to save yourself the heartache of losing loved ones. despite that, you still find yourself falling in love with hoseok

pairing - hunter!hoseok x immortal female!reader

genre - fluff, angst; reincarnation au

word count - 5.0k

warnings - strangers to lovers, hisorical inaccuracies, reader is centuries old, takes place in late 1700s, “i can fix that”, falling in love, kissing, proposal, mentioning of harming self, major character death, dogs die, im sorry everything i write of hoseok is sad but happy ending!!

author’s note - another fic inspired by ABC Forever, because i love the concept and i miss it

After nearing three centuries of life, one would think they’d get used to being alone. To the quiet still air of an empty home, void of a family. But it never did, you could never get used to it. It wasn’t that you purposefully chose to live a life of solitude, but rather found it the best way to live. If you were alone, you couldn’t get hurt. With no roots, it made moving from place to place easier. The only thing that got you through it all was thinking back on your family.

They were long gone by now, but that didn’t change the fact you still thought of them often. More than once, you would dream of what they would have thought with each place. How your mother would move every bit of furniture until it looked just right, how your father would go on about how far it was from the village, or how your little sisters would run about the cabin entirely, claiming it was perfect.

Several times you would get so caught up in your daydreams, you would even call out to them, only for your voice to die out before their names could even fully fall past your lips. Each time you’d wince at your own foolishness, before sighing, returning to the task you were doing.

That was simply how you lived until the day that Hoseok arrived.

You were deep into the woods, picking wild berries when a rustling was heard from across the clearing you were in. Cautiously, you made your way over to the rustling bushes. Right as you were about to peek behind them, a young man popped out from behind them. You let out a scream as you stumbled back, tripping over your skirt and sending you tumbling into the dirt.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry!” The young man spoke as he rushed over to you, helping you back to your feet.

“What were you doing? Were you watching me?!” You exclaimed, pushing him away from you as soon as you stood up.

“No! I promise. I was hunting when my dogs stopped.” It was then you were suddenly aware of the two dog heads that poked out from the branches. “I thought they caught a scent of maybe a deer but uh, seems like they found you,” he chuckled nervously, before his eyebrows shot up. “Where are my manners, I’m Hoseok,” he said, holding his hand out for you.

You stared at it for a moment, before you gave him your name, placing your hand in his. Your hand in his grip, he raised your knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You swore your face grew hot at those words. It had been years since any man had shown you any sort of affection, even if it was the smallest bit. “What are you doing out here?”

“I- uh, berries.” You gestured to your basket that you left across the clearing. “Collecting some for a pie.” You’re unsure why you felt nervous all of a sudden, but with Hoseok’s gaze on your, it made it difficult to not feel shy.

“Berry pie? Oh that sounds delicious.”

Before you could even comprehend what you were thinking, you found yourself asking, “Would you like some?”

“Pardon?” He furrowed his brows at you.

“I mean,” you cringed at yourself before you started over, “would you like to come over? It should only take a few hours?”

A smile lit up his face, and you swear you don’t think you’ve ever seen a more beautiful smile. “I would love that.” The both of you walked across the field, picking up your basket as you reentered the forest, heading into the direction of your cottage. Glancing behind you, you saw the two bloodhounds following close on his heels. No doubt noticing how you kept glancing behind him, he introduced them. “Their names are Mickey and Ann.”

“They’re beautiful,” you complimented.

The rest of the journey back to your cottage was in silence, but it was not uncomfortable. Reaching your small little property, you felt uneasiness wash over you as you motioned to your small cottage. It was already several years old by the time you moved into it, windows didn’t shut right and it took a couple nudges to fully close the door; but it was home. If Hoseok thought any less of it, he didn’t say anything, besides ordering the two dogs to stay put at the front door.

Once inside, you began to prepare the pie crust. On occasion, you’d glance up at Hoseok who was staring at the small things you had collected over your life, mainly assorted coins from each country you visited and a few books. Picking one of them up, he began to flip through it.

“Do you actually understand this?” He asked, gesturing to the words on the page.

“Italian? Yes.” No doubt it was probably one of the first languages you learned when you discovered your affliction. Over the past few centuries, you found out you had quite the knack for picking up languages.

“You must’ve had some fancy schooling,” he whistled as he set the book down.

“Not really,” you flushed as you kneaded the dough. “Just knew someone who taught it to me.”

“Family?” He asked.

You shook your head no. A small Italian artist took you under her wing for a handful of years, deeming you her muse. In return for being the source of her inspiration, she taught you her language.

“Where is your family?”

The question had you cease your kneading. You should have known the question would’ve been asked at some point or another. Not to mention, you were somewhat of an enigma to the nearby village. A young well read woman from far away living in a small abandoned cottage, what could you possibly be doing all the way out here? No one ever said anything to you about it, but you knew they certainly thought something of it, judging by the stares you received when you’d walk into town. If he’d ever been, there was a strong possibility he knew of you already.

“Gone,” you answered, resuming your kneading. “Just me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” His voice was soft as he apologized, like he regretted asking.

“Not your fault, they’ve been gone for a while.” A long while.

The comfortable silence was gone, replaced with an air of tension. Like a string held so taught that the smallest movement would cause it to snap. The topic of your family always stung, no matter how much time had passed.

Quite possibly wanting to ease the awkward atmosphere he created, Hoseok quietly made his way over to you in your small kitchen. Standing beside you, he smiled.

“What can I do to help?”

Pushing down the butterflies that had erupted in your stomach, you stepped to the side and handed him the basket of wildberries you collected. “Make the filling?”

The rest of the afternoon consisted of both of you struggling to make the pie. Hoseok apparently wasn’t all that good with following directions as whenever you turned your back to do something, he would try and sneak a nibble at the filling. On occasion, he’d inquire about your knowledge of languages; curious to learn different phrases. It was only when you put the pie in the oven did Hoseok finally cease his linguistic questions. Sitting on a stool, you allowed yourself to catch your breath as you watched the young hunter, who’s gaze was fixated on your roof.

You were well aware of the shape your cottage was in, due to its old age it was in constant need of repairs. The most important one being the leaks in the roof, thankfully it was the dry season so you didn’t have to go about fixing them just yet, but you knew you’d have to get to it eventually.

“I can fix that.” He gestured up to the roof.

“Can you really?” You raised a brow at him.

“Consider it my way of repaying you for the pie.”

And that was the beginning of your friendship with Hoseok. He’d stop by every other day, tools in hand and work on sealing up your roof. A few times, he’d even bring in a few of his kills, offering it to you to make some dinner. Each time you refused, but he always insisted.

“A lady needs her food.”

A little over a week had passed and Hoseok finished the roof. It was then you realized how badly you hated being alone. You’d missed having someone to talk to, to cook for. Having grown so used to his presence in that week, you pointed to the old busted chicken coop that resided on your property. It had been empty since you’d moved in and you thought having fresh eggs from a nice chicken coop would be nice. Without hesitating, he agreed to fix the coop. And your front door, and your windows, and your fence. Each time he completed something, you found something new for him to fix.

While he worked on repairs, you’d either read or cook up dinner, not only for you and him, but for his dogs as well. Mickey and Ann were complete sweethearts, waiting patiently by the front door for their owner to come in and join you all for food. When he was working on your windows, more than once you saw him peeking through as you sat at your kitchen table reading as Mickey laid his head on your lap.

Eventually, the cottage was practically brand new. There was nothing else to be fixed and you had to prepare yourself to say goodbye to Hoseok. Your heart ached as he walked away from your home for the last time, his dogs trailing behind him. The following morning, you resumed your usual chores and activities; tending to your (new) chickens, work in your garden, and reread your books.

You’d been fighting off tears all day, and it was as you were preparing supper that the tears began to fall. Perhaps it was foolish of you to get attached to him anyways. No matter what would have happened, it would’ve turned out the way it usually did: with you disappearing.

A knock on your door, pulled you from your thoughts. For a moment you were confused, no one ever from the village ever came up to visit, you wondered what could’ve happened. Quickly, you wiped the tears from your eyes and made your way over to the door, where the unknown visitor knocked away.

“Coming, I’m coming!” You called as you swung the door open, revealing- “Hoseok?”

The young man was at your door, a handful of freshly killed quails in hand, and both hounds standing behind him, panting happily. “What, I’m not late am I?”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “that’s not it at all. I just- I wasn’t expecting you?”

“Why wouldn’t you be expecting me? I thought we had a nice little arrangement going on?” He questioned.

“We did, but I have nothing else for you to fix so I assumed-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off. Cupping your cheek, you had no choice but to look up into his sweet, adoring face. “I thought it was pretty obvious you wanted me around for some other reason besides being your handyman.”

Feeling your face grow hot, you slowly nodded.

He chuckled at you softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “So is it alright, I come over for supper?”

“Of course,” you breathed out. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy in so long.

So the two of you fell into a routine of sorts, he would stop by some meat for you to cook for your supper. Over the meal, you’d catch up on your day to day activities. By the time the food was gone, and you were with full bellies, Hoseok would excuse himself.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” was what he would say as he left your cottage for his own home, somewhere in town. A few times you’d stayed up so late that it was well past midnight, so you offered him your place for the night. Purely because you didn’t want him out so late, but each time he refused; saying it wouldn’t be right.

Slowly, your dinner meetings would begin happening in the day time. The last few days of summer were upon you and you wanted to spend it with Hoseok, having a picnic with him.

You dragged him up a tall grassy hill, basket full of bread, cheese, and jam. He laughed as he allowed you to pull him up towards the top, Mickey and Ann trailing behind at his heels, barking happily. Hoseok allowed the dogs to wander around the area, occasionally calling them back if they went too far.

All set up, you both sat down and enjoyed your lunch. It wasn’t long after you finished that you scooted closer to him, and closer until your hands were almost touching. You were about to slip your hand underneath his when Hoseok’s hand moved, taking your’s and placing it in his. His hands were rough to the touch, small calluses riddled his palms. A smile playing on your lips, you rested your head on his shoulder.

Neither of you moved for hours as you watched the day go by from that little spot on the hill, relishing in the late summer sun. Out of all the years you lived, you had to think that that moment there was the most peaceful. There was no need to run, no overwhelming sense of loss, just you and Hoseok.

“What was your family like?” He questioned.

Taking a deep breath, you began talking about your late family. “My father was a miller, he’d often take me on his runs to deliver flour, giving me a little sack to carry as well,” you smiled fondly at the memory, the villagers chuckling at you as you teetered behind him. “When I was even younger, I used to lay down by the fire and watch my mother sew. . . scolding me for growing up so fast.”

“Did you have any siblings?”

“I had two younger sisters, parents weren’t able to have anymore after the youngest,” you sighed, remembering how hard your parents tried. “They adored flowers, wanting to cover the cottage we lived in with honeysuckle and wild flowers.” Your vision started to get blurry as tears welled up in your eyes.

“They sound wonderful,” Hoseok murmured.

“Yeah, they were. . .” You sighed, blinking back the tears.

“Hey,” he pulled his shoulder away to look at you. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” Hoseok’s hand moved to cup your cheek, brushing the stray hairs from your face. “Your parents are looking down on you, so proud of the woman you are today.”

Meeting Hoseok’s eyes, you’re overwhelmed with the love and adoration pouring from his gaze. Never in your three hundred years had a person ever looked at you that way. As much as you wanted to give into his love, you were scared of the inevitable. One day Hoseok would begin to age and he would notice you still look the same as the day you met. He would grow old before your eyes, leaving you no choice but to leave him broken hearted. To love him would be selfish of you.

The sound of his voice calling your name pulled you from your spiral. You watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment, before he slowly leaned in. For the first time ever time felt like it stood still. There was no inevitable ticking clock, no fear or thoughts of the future. Just you and Hoseok, on that grassy hill on a late August day.

You should’ve known better than to have let him kiss you, as you knew as soon as you felt his lips on yours, there was no way you’d be able to let him go. Being alone for so many years, perhaps this time you could allow yourself to be selfish. One day you’d tell him about your curse, but until that day came, you were going to let yourself be with him.

As the seasons changed, your relationship with Hoseok only grew stronger. He’d visit you daily, bringing gifts of flowers, baked goods, and other assorted courting gifts. The two of you would spend all day together, reading or he’d help you take care of your chickens. Each night, he would leave, despite your insistence on him spending the night.

“I’m courting you, let me do this right,” he whispered once as he kissed you goodnight.

While you appreciated the sweet sentiment, he should’ve known your relationship was anything but orthodox. If your mother was still around, she surely would’ve been scandalized to hear you kissed him before you even married him. In fact the more you thought about it, the more horrified your mother would be at what you’ve done before marriage. But despite everything you may have done in the past, everything with Hoseok felt like a first.

Whenever Hoseok was with you, never did it feel like time was passing. Like it was only the two of you in your own little bubble of the world, frozen in time. Thoughts of your curse were far from your mind, but each time he left for the night, you knew you had to tell him eventually.

As the days grew colder, that ache you felt in your heart only became more apparent. Soon, you’d think to yourself, I’ll tell him soon. But it couldn’t come soon enough.

Snow soon covered the land, leaving you and Hoseok nothing much but to huddle yourselves inside your cottage. Both of you were huddled in front of your fireplace, desperate to keep warm. Hoseok’s dogs were curled up beside you as well, Mickey’s head resting on your lap as you lazily stroked his fur with one hand. You were rereading one of your novels, simply enjoying the warmth of the fire when you could feel Hoseok’s eyes on you. It wasn’t uncommon that he would stare at you as you did any sort of task, but there was something different about him. Behind his eyes, there was a particularly soft warm glow, making your body feel a thousand times more warmed than the heat of the fire in front of you.

“What are you staring at me like that for?” You finally asked, setting your book down.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Within an instant you felt your cheeks warmed by his words. “Yes,” you responded shyly, avoiding meeting his eyes.

Scooting closer to you, he took the book out of your hand, placing it off to the side. Both hands now free, he took them in his as he said your name. “I don’t know how else to say this but, I love you. I don’t know exactly when I fell for you, but I don’t think I ever want to stop.” Removing one hand from yours, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a delicate copper band.

A gasp escaped your lips as he held out the ring for you.

“It would give me the greatest pleasure, if you were to be my wife.”

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, yes!” You repeated as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Not even looking at it, you threw your arms over his shoulders. Unprepared for your sudden movement, you both went tumbling to the floor, the dogs whined as they rushed to move away from your colliding bodies. You pressed your mouth to his, smiling into it as he returned your kiss.

Until that moment, all your kisses had been brief. Fleeting kisses of hellos and goodbyes, never lasting more than a second. This kiss was different. His hands held your gently at your hips, keeping you in place on top of him. A fire ignited deep in you as you kissed him, you didn’t want to let him go now, not tonight. Keenly, you began peppering Hoseok’s entire face with kisses. His grip on you tightened as your lips traveled lower along the side of his jaw, nibbling at his neck.

“Wait,” his words came out in a groan. Calling your name, you only responded by moving back up to his lips, wanting to kiss him again. “No, not yet.”

“Hoseok, please,” you whined, breathless from the kiss.

“I know, I know, my love,” he panted as his hand came up to cup your face. “It’s getting late,” he sighed, noticing how dark the sky was outside once you were both sitting up again.

“You could stay the night,” you offered once again. Before he could protest, you continued. “Besides, we’re engaged now. What difference would it make?”

Hoseok rolled your eyes at the logic. “The difference is I would like my first time with you, to be with you as my wife.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you huffed as he stood up, gathering his things for him to leave.

Once all his things were together, he lowered his head down, kissing you one last time. “Goodnight, my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Hoseok and his dogs left just like they would any other night.

You stared at the door, waiting for the faint crunches of his footsteps in the snow to disappear. Now alone, you knew you had to tell him. Hopefully his love for you would trump any doubts he would have. While you could try to hurt yourself as proof, you doubt he’d want to see you harmed. Death was a jarring thing, no matter if you were to come back or not. Regardless of the outcome, you knew you’d tell him tomorrow.

The following day, you got up like you would any other. You got yourself dressed, and began your daily activities. Everything was the way it normally was, but something felt off. You couldn’t place what was, but you knew deep down that something wasn’t right.

Covering yourself with a thick shawl, you made your way over towards your chicken coop. Picking out the eggs from your hens, ready to make something for breakfast. Once you had enough, you made your way back over to your house. It was then you heard barking.

Turning your head, you saw the familiar faces of Mickey and Ann, but there was no Hoseok. Setting the basket down, you lowered yourself to the ground, ready to greet the hounds.

“Hey, hey,” you cooed as you pet the dogs, both of them clearly very distressed. “What’s going on? Where’s Hoseok?” As the mention of his name, Mickey barked at you while Ann whined, pulling at your skirts.

“Excuse me, miss.” A new voice called from across the way. Looking up, recognizing the face as the innkeeper. You’d seen him a few times in town and Hoseok spoke of him often, as he had been renting one of his rooms the past few months. “You knew Hoseok, correct?”

“He’s my fianceé,” you responded cautiously as you straightened up. You hugged your shawl tighter around you as the innkeeper’s eyes saddened at your words. “Why? What happened?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss, miss.”

“What?” That moment, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. Deep down, you wish it did. No, Hoseok couldn’t be gone. It couldn’t be. You wanted to accuse the innkeeper of lying, or perhaps he mistook someone for Hoseok. But the look in his eyes was clear: Hoseok was dead.

A ringing started in your ears as you stumbled back into your cabin, the dogs following after you. Barely able to hear any other word the innkeeper might’ve said, but it didn’t matter anyways. Hoseok was gone. There couldn’t be anything else to be said.

Alone once again in your home, you collapsed onto the ground. Opening your mouth, a deafening wail passed your lips. You had died a number of times by now; you’d been poisoned, stabbed, hung, shot, drowned. You’ve felt almost every measure of pain there was, but nothing compared to the pain you felt when you’d lost your beloved Hoseok.

You became a ghost of yourself after that day. Simply going through the motions of each day. Your only company was Mickey and Ann, who too missed their late owner. They were your only comfort, knowing that taking care of them was something Hoseok would’ve wanted you to do. Every night, they slept on your bed, curled up beside you as you lazily pet their aging bodies.

Ann was the first to die. 10 years have passed since you lost Hoseok. You’d moved out of that cottage a few years prior, knowing it was only a matter of time before the village had caught on to your affliction. The move was particularly hard on the two hounds, not wanting to move far from the only town they’d ever known. But you had no choice. It became very apparent that Ann wished to return, always sleeping by the door, hoping you’d change your mind. That’s how you found her one spring morning, lying quietly by the door, having passed in her sleep.

You buried her in your garden, under a bed of roses.

Having lost both his sister and Hoseok, Mickey followed soon after. He rarely left your bed, only getting up to eat or to go outside. It was only three months later did you bury him beside Ann.

The only reminder you had left of Hoseok was the ring on your finger. You rarely took it off your finger, fearing that one day you might forget it or Hoseok. Often you’d find yourself staring at the copper band. It was simple, bearing no special engravings or jewels, but it became your most prized possession.

Unfortunately, time didn’t stay still for you to wallow in your misery. You had to keep moving forward. But as time moved on, so did the world around you. It was strange how fast technology advanced, but as helpful as it was to the people around you, it became your worst nightmare. It became harder and harder to disappear, small towns and far away cabins no longer felt like the safe haven they once were. Which was how you found yourself deep in the city.

It was strange how easy it was to disappear, to simply become another face in the crowd. No one spared you a second glance, no matter how many times you may have seen them over the years, no one recognized you and your lack of aging. As long as you kept to yourself, you managed to stay hidden in plain sight.

Off the corner of 3rd street, you had your own little hole in the wall bookstore. You purchased the store from a sweet old couple a few years back, it was a quaint little bookshop, already having its own group of loyal customers. On occasion, you would get a few new faces, but it was usually the same ones everyday.

Until today when you saw a face you hadn’t seen in almost 300 years.

Per your usual morning routine, you were taking inventory of the store when you heard the bell over the front door ring. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” You called out, trying to finish the last few rows of books. Finished, you made your way back towards the front of the store, dusting your hands off. “Well, is there anything I can help you with-” You stopped dead in your tracks as you saw the man you had entered your store. His eyes were cast downwards and he looked over the titles of the front shelves. Hearing your arrival, familiar dark eyes faced you.

“I’m just browsing,” he said, lips curling into a smile you swore you almost forgot.

In front of you, was Hoseok. It was, had to be. He looked every bit the same as that cold winter night when you last saw him. Your mouth opened and closed several times, before you finally gained your senses.

“Well, just, let me know if there’s anything specific you had in mind,” you responded, smiling as you spun around on your heel, wanting to make a break for your back office.

“Actually, there might be something.”

Swallowing thickly, you turned back to face him. “Oh?”

“I’m thinking of getting into cooking, do you have any cookbook recommendations?” He asked.

“Y-yeah, follow me.” Quickly, you walked over towards your cookbook section, feeling his eyes on you as you walked him over to the shelves. Dragging your fingers over the spines, you pulled out the one you were looking for. It was an older copy, you recognized from the late 80s. Inside were recipes of different types of baked goods and other dishes. “This one, I think I’ve made just about everything in it twice,” you said, pulling it off the shelf and handing it to him.

As the man flipped through the pages, you found yourself fiddling with the ring that now hung around your neck. Long ago, you strung a chain through it, nearly losing it down the drain. You stared at him in front of you, still not able to wrap your head around it. After nearly six hundred years, you don’t think you’ve ever seen the same face twice. Maybe this was your second chance with him, to start over again. But at the same time, you knew it would be foolish. The man in front of you was a complete stranger, not Hoseok. For all you know, he could be completely different than your long lost fianceé.

Shutting the book, he nodded. “This is perfect.”

Shaking you from your thoughts, you nodded. “Great. I’ll ring you up over here.” Walking back towards the cash register, you both fell into a silence as you rang him up. “Alright, here you go,” you smiled, handing him the book.

“Thank you so much.” Cookbook and receipt in hand, he made his way towards the front door. He couldn’t go just yet, there was something you needed to know.

“Wait!” You called out right as he placed his hand on the door. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

That brilliant smile played on his lips again as he responded. “Jung Hoseok.”

#btsghostie #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #bts x reader #bts fluff #hoseok fanfic #hoseok angst #bts angst

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not---meat · 3 months

Text

Paradise: Chapter 4: The Sun Must Set To Rise

Pairing: Javier Peña x McKenzie Martel

Rating: A - Adult

Warnings: Angst.

Summary: McKenzie thinks of the past.

Note: This is an AU set in between season 2 and season 3 of Narcos sometime in the 90's. I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies!

MASTERLIST --- PARADISE MASTERLIST

It had been gloomy all day. Here and there it would rain but it wasn't anything too serious, not that Kenzi minded. It was a nice break from the heat and she particularly loved the smell. On days that it rained Kenzi would often open her window up just a crack so the smell would pour into her room and wrap around her like a warm cocoon. It helped her think. It made her calm and boy did she need something to keep her calm.

The brunch she had shared earlier in the day with Javier had left her all sorts of confused. She wasn't sure how to feel about their conversation. She wasn't sure about how to feel about him wanting to spend more time with her. Kenzi had gotten so used to being without him. Now that he was finally back in her life she didn't know what to do. There was always going to be a space for him, a void in her life that only he could fill, but it still felt strange.

As she stewed in those thoughts and feelings, Kenzi laid back on her bed, hands rested on her exposed stomach, legs dangling off the side of the bed. She stared at the ceiling, images of the past rolling through her mind.

The air had been sweet. It was warm but not too warm. She supposed thats why Lorraine had picked the day that she did, knowing that the weather was typically quite nice in this season. McKenzie wasn't about to complain. She was happy that she was able to be a part of the day.

Most women would do everything in their power to push away their partners female best friend. Jealousy about how well the friends knew each other more often than not at play as the couple grew closer. Kenzi had heard the horror stories of girls losing their best friend to their girlfriends. That had always been her biggest fear, losing Javier.

Perhaps that was why Kenzi pushed her own feelings aside. Perhaps thats why every time she saw him kissing her and that pang of pain hit her, she forced it down. She lived with it. Endured it. At the end of the day, McKenzie would be alright, after all. At the end of the day she was happier to have him in her life and she knew that a confession like that would only serve to push them apart.

That wasn't a chance McKenzie was willing to take.

It didn't take a brain surgeon to know that McKenzie was in love with Javier. His father had figured her out quite quickly. He had urged her to tell him before it was too late but McKenzie was afraid. Without Javier she was nothing.

So there she stood, fixing her hair because she knew that Lorraine hated it when it was so wild and she would 'ruin the pictures' if her hair wasn't Lorraines version of aesthetically pleasing. Kenzie wasn't fond of straightening her hair. Every time she did it would just get frizzy and slowly curl again as the day went by anyway.

But for Javier? Kenzi would do anything for him. Even if that meant dealing with her hair throughout the day so that he had his perfect day with his new bride.

She had her own room for the day. As much as Lorraine tolerated her, she was still distrustful of her. As if Kenzi would make a move on him on his wedding day. She wasn't crazy. Yet she still accepted the room gratefully. It was for the better at the end of the day. At least with her being in her private room Javier didn't have to see the tears in her eyes as she pulled on her dress.

Black. Because she had to match the tux that Javier was wearing. At least she was given the option of a dress, not that Kenzi would have fought wearing a tux. 'It wasn't ladylike' was all that Lorraine had to say.

Kenzi knew in her heart of hearts that Lorraine had tried to talk Javier into choosing someone else to be his best man. She could have pictured the conversation if she really wanted to. She didn't. She didn't want to think about Javier thinking of her as only his best friend.

It hurt to know that that was all he saw her as. All that he would ever see her as. Best friend. Cradle to grave.

When the time came, Kenzi went to her spot. She waited for her cues, she stayed silent, but she wondered where Javier was. It was his big day and she hadn't seen him once. Originally she had thought that he would have at least come by at one point to say hello, to get pictures taken, something.

But he never showed.

Perhaps he was late getting ready? Perhaps he had slept through his morning alarm and had a late start and was rushing to get to the church? The wedding couldn't start without him.

They all waited. Patient at first but anxieties grew the longer they waited. Kenzi sat in a chair in the little waiting area where the rest of the wedding party had gathered… well the rest of Javiers half of the wedding party had gathered. The other guys had been talking amongst each other, reassuring themselves that Javier was going to show.

Kenzi just sat there silently, staring at the wall ahead of her. Conflicted. Half of her wanted him to show. She wanted him to get the happily ever after that he deserved. The other half, though, the half that was fuelled by the little green demon that sat on her shoulder more often than not these days was hoping that he wouldn't.

The wedding was supposed to start twenty minutes earlier. Still no Javier. It wasn't until they hit the half an hour mark that reality started to set in for the people in the room. He wasn't coming.

It became even more real when the bride burst into the room ten minutes later. Forty minutes after the wedding was set to start, tears and mascara running down her face. She looked heartbroken and angry, her glare casted at Kenzi as if she had known that he wouldn't show this whole time.

Of course Kenzi had no idea. The accusations that were thrown at her served nothing but to lighten the load on Lorraines chest as she realized that the love of her life had walked away. Left at the alter, unable to even make it down the aisle.

Kenzi didn't wait around the venue. The bride and the brides family had both made a point that she was the one to blame even though Kenzi had no idea where Javier had gone. She went to the Peña ranch, using her key to walk into the house even though nobody was home. Everything seemed in order so obviously he hadn't been murdered or kidnapped.

Even his room looked in order at first as Kenzie walked through it, sitting down on his bed. It was confusing. Where had he gone? Where had he run off to? What was more important than the biggest day of his life?

Only the important things had been taken. The bag that normally rested against his desk was gone. Books that Kenzi knew were his favourite missing. It made sense. The things that he cared for the most had been taken and the rest left behind. He had run away but where did her go and most importantly… why didn't he tell her?

A last thought. Not even a goodbye or a note. Nothing. The only hint that he had thought of her was the empty spot on his corkboard where the friendship bracelet she had made for him when they were kids used to hang.

It felt wrong, so wrong, but secretly in the back of her mind Kenzi was relieved. At least this way she didn't have to watch the man she loved get married to another. At least this way she didn't have to hide the heartbreak that she felt. At least this way there was a chance that when he came back that he might have finally seen her. Maybe this was his fucked up way of sending her a message.

Hopeful thinking. Wishful thinking. Kenzi sat in his room for a while, arms wrapped around herself, lost in thought.

It was Chucho who found her, of course. He had been looking for her at the venue and when he realized she was no longer there it didn't take him long to figure out where she was. Chucho knew her well. He had watched her grow into the adult woman she was.

"He's gone." Was all she could say, an emptiness in her heart, a vacancy in her tone.

All Chucho did was nod. He sat beside her on Javiers bed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side so he could comfort her. The person who typically comforted her was gone, after all. Missing.

"It will be okay, mi niña, he will be back." Chucho spoke, however Kenzi could feel the doubt sinking through his tone.

It was then that her tears finally fell. Sure it wasn't her wedding day. Sure, she had no right feeling as heartbroken as she did. At the end of the day, though, Javier was still her best friend. The fact that he could leave the way he did without as much as a goodbye?

In that moment, sitting there on his bed in the Pena ranch, Kenzi worried that she may never see him again. That the last time she saw him was truly the last time. She couldn't remember what he had said to her last but she could remember his smile as they said goodbye for the night.

Tears rolled down Kenzi's face. The memories of that day still haunted her to her core. The hateful words thrown her way still rattled her. It had been ten years and yet the heartbreak she felt still would creep into her when she was least expecting it. It had numbed her for a while, eventually muting itsself as she went through her life just as normal. Relationships came and went, friends came and went. Nobody replaced Javier. Nobody ever lived up to him. Kenzi had accepted that. Kenzi had learned to live with that hole in her life.

A knock came on her door, pulling Kenzi out of her past and into the present. She sat up, wiping her eyes, and cleared her throat.

"Yeah?" She called out, knowing it was likely her roommate. She was right.

"Hey." He spoke, opening her bedroom door and peering in, "I got some snow if you want to come?"

"Yeah." Kenzi nodded, "Yeah. I'll come. Give me five."

#fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #original character #pedro is daddy #narcos #javier pena x oc #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena narcos

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magicalsalamander · 3 years

Text

Lacuna

Pairing: Jin ⇆ Reader

Genre: Law Students | Werewolf | Childhood best friends to idiot enemies to lovers | F | A | S

Summary: Lacuna(n): (1) In law, a non liquet (commonly known as “lacuna in the law”) is any situation where there is no applicable law. (2) An unfilled space or interval; a gap.

You are well equipped at handling whatever life throws at you. You had worked hard to erase the past and mold a new you, and the future were to become a lawyer. Well, everything was planned expect for your ex best friend who came back into your life like a crashing gavel. Just when you thought you could deal with his presence, he was now your partner on a case that was bigger than you had ever imaged.

Words: 21K

Warning: Mature; explicit themes, sexual content, and violence. Lots of law inaccuracies. Alcohol and club situations. Heavy angst with lots of arguing. Previous trauma of abandonment, harsh words and feeling unworthy. Knotting, cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of impregnation, soft dom Jin, marking/claiming, and possessive behavior.

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve put out something! I want to thank everyone for being so patient and always supporting me! Thank you @heyitsmee2 for reading over this early on. I apricate you!

*Story mildly edited due to time constraint, will edit further

You were no stranger to the game; surviving and trying to be someone in the charade of corporatism. It was all too important to be unemotional. You’d soon find yourself in Prometheus place than on the highest rock on Olympus if you let yourself slip and you were sure of your path.

Calculation leads to quantification—and it takes only seven second to make an impression.

Your throat narrows with altitude, but the breadth of your career expands.

The raspy voice of the jazz singer was a rich wine as she caressed the vintage microphone intimately. The soft notes of the piano and band follow in tandem with the slow, romantic song she sung. The dark golden hue casted over the ballroom from the multitude of chandeliers only perpetuated the elegance of the atmosphere. Parties like this were suffocating despite being in a room sized for a hanger. You wouldn’t doubt either than some of the patrons here own their own planes.

You down the rest of your wine nearly rolling your eyes at the romantic lyrics. When you were a little girl events like this were a dream, places like this gave promise of finding a prince charming. At least that’s what all the movies feed you and lead you to believe would happen until reality set in. This event wasn’t romantic in the slightest. It was to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the law firm. The entire point of the function tonight was to schmooze and be seen. As an intern, this was prime time for you. However, you suppose you were living the dream, just not a fairytale. You had worked hard to get this internship, nabbing one of the four spots that over thousands applied to. You had done what felt like to be the impossible—coming form a school that wasn’t ivy made it all the more surreal. Important business people, old and new money mixed in with ‘top of the food chain’ lawyers were all present and hiring opportunities post-graduation. That is if you don’t end up getting a job post with the firm, but a smart woman always keeps her options open.

The obligatory greeting and sucking up to had already passed and it was the lull of time where everyone was wondering who would be the first to leave. Your senses go off as you catch a two of four making his way through the crowd towards you. Standing up as if you hadn’t caught glimpse of Logan from your peripheral. You smile at those who you had shared the table with, names already forgotten, number three’s included, silently bidding them an underserved excuse me. You grab at the bottom of your dress and move through the crowd. You miss the scrunch in brow from Logan as he picks up speed after you. He was the typical American type of handsome with brown hair, strong brows, square face, shadowed beard, lean and tall. Logan was nice, made his name memorable by persistence, but the guy couldn’t take a hint. How he’s made it this far has been a mystery to you.

As you break the crowd going into the hallway, you hear him calling your name. Acting as if you couldn’t hear him, you ask a server where the restroom was and quickly headed in that direction. He began jogging to catch up with you. Your pace began to pick up too. You counted down the seconds, four, three, two—the bathroom was still to far to accommodate for your sudden pick up in counting.

“Y/n! Wait, oh, sorry, excuse me.” Timely a cart full of new hors d'oeuvre blocks his path.

Seeing his distraction, you abruptly turned and head down another hall from the main meant for staff. You reached for the first door and to your muttered curse when it was locked. You jogged to the second door which opened and closed it behind you as if fire was at your feet. Not bothering to turn on the light, you backed up further into the closet until you hit something. You had expected to hit a wall, but instead what you bumped into what oddly felt human, a large one at that. When they oofed, you scampered away. Fear thickening in you as you rapidly apologized under your breath. Instinct dictated you get out, as you opened the door to leave the heavy sound of footsteps outside had you closing it right back. The person with you murmured a beginning of a question but you quickly reached up, cupping the mouth of whomever was inside with you. Shushing them they quieted up instantly. The slight stubble under your hand indicated it was a man. At this point you didn’t care if they were someone important. You winced as you heard Logan calling your name again. The man murmured a muffled question that you couldn’t understand and you shushed them again until the footsteps outside quieted.

Sighing in relief you removed your hand from his mouth, using the same hand to search for a light switch. With an apology on the tip of your tongue turning to face the stranger, you froze, staring back equally as motionless as him in shock.

Kim Seokjin.

Number four.

Dressed to the nines in a black suit that clung to him tightly. His broad shoulders were pronounced, and with his height tall he took a lot of space. His thick, dark hair was pushed away from his face. His eyes flashed red before it disappeared back into its espresso color. He looked gorgeous. You’d never utter that out loud, but you couldn’t ignore it either. It irritated you even more. He irritated you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You drawled out the oh incredulously.

A smirk pulled at his thick lips. “Hello to you too.”

“I never knew you to be so forward, at least take me to dinner first.”

Looking around you realized you were in a janitor’s closet. The scent of bleach was thick, taking up as much space as Seokjin’s personality in the confined space.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while wiping the hand that was over his mouth on your dress not so subtly.

He shrugged, suffocating a laugh at your gesture. “Needed a break.”

That was hard to believe. Jin was a natural at talking to people. He made it seem easy. He always had this sense of composure and poise about him. Staring at eachother his eyes broke from your gaze as he looked you up and down. Suddenly feeling self-conscious you adjusted your dress. The black satin dress you were wearing suddenly felt tighter than when you put it on. Under his gaze you’ve always felt this way, vulnerable, but you’ve learned how to conceal it better over time.

“What?” You hissed at him when he still stared.

“This isn’t the first time you caught me in a closet.” Quietly he followed up with, “Reminds me of the first time we met.”

You don’t know what bothers you more, Seokjin’s casual reference to the past or the fact that you suddenly are placed back there. You remember being terrified, wrapping your blue, pilling blanket over your head only letting your head poke through. You had been reading under your blanket when you heard thumping coming from your closet. With your flashlight pointing at your closet you swallowed harshly as the sound came again. Your parents had told you that monsters were fake, but the sounds sounded real.

Your light was shaking on the white double doors. “H-Hello?” you bravely called out. The thumping stopped. You gulped inching closer. You were taught to be brave. Your dad said that monsters couldn’t hurt you, especially if you don’t show fear. Like the book you were reading, “Where the Wild Things Are”, you like Max, could confront the monsters too. You could become and make them friends with them. You were sure of it.

“H-hey,” swallowing hard, ”I’m opening the door, don’t bite me okay. I won’t hurt you.”

When no response resounded you breathed in deeply through your nose. Reaching out and yanking the door open you came face to face, inches away, from a boy hiding in your closet. A majority of your clothes were pulled from their hangers and piled on the floor which he was laying on. Similarly in equal fright from you bursting open the door, a shirt he had over his head fell off revealing furry grey dog ears. At the sound of your gasp, he gasped, and a tail that swept to the floor wrapped around his middle.

Buffering in the moment you stared at the boy who seemed to be around the same age as you. Recognition filters through you, “Max?” Your eyes lit up in wonder.

The boy squinted at you, almost upset. “My name’s not Max, it’s Seokjin!”

“Why do you have ears and a tail like him then?”

His brows furrowed, “Because I’m a—.”

You heard a knock on your door from your mother hushing Seokjin instantly. “Sweetie, are you still awake?”

The boy lurched forward cupping a hand over your mouth seeing you were going to respond. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

You whispered, “Why?”

“Y/N?”

His eyes gleamed as he silently pleaded with you, switching between the shadow from under your bedroom door and your eyes, bidding for you to understand.

Nodding in understanding, somehow you understood. Your mom from the other side of the door sighed, “I know you’re pretending to sleep, Pumpkin. Put the book away. I know its Saturday but remember lights out by 9.”

“Okay, Mom.” Finally speaking up.

“G’night.”

She walked away.

Seokjin studied you carefully, eyeing you skeptically. “You’re not scared?”

“No, should I be?”

He paused truly thinking. “Yes. You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m brave.”

He’s getting nervous and began muttering to himself. “You shouldn’t have seen me. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It just smelled so nice.” The last part was whispered out low enough where you couldn’t hear it.

“How did you get in?”

He pulled you into the closet down next to him, closing the door behind. The flashlight was between you both pointing towards the ceiling tightly grasped between your hands. His hands over you. His gaze serious and intent. “Promise you won’t tell anyone, swear on it! Swear on your life!”

You felt like you were being presented the ultimate challenge. This boy was trusting you with his all, maybe this was your adventure. Your destiny. You could be honorable. You nodded, “I swear, I swear.”

“What are you though? Why do you have ears and a tail? Are they real?”

“They’re real.” He said haughtily before pridefully confessing. “I’m a werewolf.”

Your eyes were sparkling, the blanket surrounding you long forgotten and dropped. “Oh, wow! Can I touch your ears?”

He nodded. Your reaction to his secret was surprising to him. He had been told by his parents and everyone in the pack that he should never real his truth. Humans had been enemies for centuries, hunting his kind since the beginning of time. Although, the kind had lived amongst humans for centuries, finding ways to blend in and look alike. The difference was the ability to shift into their natural form.

“Why are you not, like, you know—a wolf?”

“Papa said I can shift fully when I become a man.”

You carefully reached up and felt. He shivered at the touch. “Puppy.”

He growled at you, “Don’t call me puppy.”

“But you’re cute.”

He blushed, scrambling up and pushing your closet door open before heading over to your window. “I have to go.” He began climbing out of your window landing on the ground. Your home was one floor.

You stuck your head out of the window. “Wait!”

He turned around,

“Will I see you again?”

He looked around, nodding before he disappeared between the trees.

It was nearly magnetic the way you both clicked. It was nearly painful being apart from eachother after that night. He would come to your window and sneak into your room almost every night. The following school year you finally went to the same school, Jin having convinced his parents he wanted to change schools. That’s when you both became inseparable. Years later he still snuck into your room, even though he could come through the front door, and still hid in your closet just to scare you. Although, you learned to growl back at him.

It was your normal, but at some point things began to change.

More specifically you were no longer kids. Puberty hit and you were no longer innocent to the maturity that began to bloom in you both. You knew Jin was always touchy. He would hug you and sometimes his hand would linger on you longer than necessary. He would lean in sometimes to smell you, nuzzling his nose against your temple. Initially it had bothered you, the sensation ticklish, but he had explained it quickly it was a werewolf thing. That didn’t change the way your heart would flip each time though.

Jin grew taller than you towering over you, and signs of man began replacing the baby fat. Time was good to him. He found a pack and you no longer spent every waking moment together. It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome, the six boys in his pack were nice, but you had your own group of friends that you began hanging out with. You suppose that was the beginning of the unraveling of your relationship. Naïve and feeling lost you latched onto the first group that accepted you.

Even if they weren’t good for you. You were becoming aware of popularity and boys as it was the only topic they choose to discuss. You began to feel self-conscious because your friends all had boyfriends before, but you still hadn’t. When you introduced the girls to Jin, your presence was made solely into providing information about the boys. The pack were isolationist, but you suppose that’s what made them more attractive besides their looks to hormonal teenage girls. Only now do you realize they accepted you was because you knew Jin and his friends. Specifically, one of the girls, Jenna—if you could remember correctly, would always asking you about Jin.

The breaking point was when Jenny, who knew of your obvious unrequited crush, finally asked you. “You wouldn’t mind if I ask him out right?”

“Jin?” You repeated his name as if you were unsure you heard her right. Although you heard his name coming out of her mouth more times than you can count.

“Yeah, Jin. I mean, you don’t like him, right?” Like a snake she drew out the last words, expression full of pity to resemble comfort. It didn’t help when the other girls at the table all had a similar expression, encouraging her and cornering you.

“I-I—.” You were cut off as another girl spoke up.

“Be real Jenny, they’ve been friend since forever. If he liked Y/n, he would’ve said so already. He doesn’t see her that way.”

The other girl sitting next to her laughed, “Totally doesn’t.”

Blinking back the tears, her words weren’t wrong. Embarrassment flushes through you. Embarrassed that you had even believed that Jin’s affection towards you could ever mean more. The fact that he had made your heart skip a beat. Swallowing your heartache, with a voice more confident than you felt, “Yeah. We’re only friends.”

Squeals and laughter echo out throughout the table in excitement. “Oh my god! Then when you two start dating, you should introduce us to the rest of the friends. I mean Y/n hasn’t done it, but I know you will.”

You were quickly forgotten. The bell rang and the all of them got up as they giggled and walked away to their classes. Sitting alone at the table, you stare at your tray, food partially nibbled on. A single tear falls down onto the table before you suck up the other that threatened to fall. How could you be so stupid. How could you have misread things all along? You get up from the table in a hurry, nearly tripping as your foot caught.

As you step out of the bench of the picnic table you make eye contact with Jin who had been standing at a lunch table a few tables away. The rest of the pack moving around him, but he was still staring at you.

Your embarrassment flushes deeper, had he had heard it all? Your heart breaks even further as you force a smile at him and he returned the gesture. The simple response solidifies everything—you’re just friends.

You miss the way his eyes follow you out of the lunchroom.

The heartache only gets worse as Jin begins making excuses on why he can’t hang out. Claiming he has pack things to deal with. You also begin making excuses no longer hanging out with the girls, even though they don’t seek you out. You instead dedicating your time in the library. You begin reading the books tucked away in the furthest corner of the library, vintage leatherbound books on laws, just to distract yourself. It becomes your new solace.

A few months pass, the sudden silence between you became increasingly awkward. You hadn’t realized how Jin was entangled with every single part of your life. You grew annoyed because your parents would always ask where Jin was. The visible change was when you began noticing the extra portion at the dinner table for him was no longer there. The look they began to give you, seeing the distress in you began to wear you thin.

Deciding enough was enough you decide to confront him, but still cowardly enough to do it between passing. Walking through the halls you headed towards his lockers, knowing he’d be there. His locker just a bit in from an intersection of the halls. When you finally catch sight of him he stood there with two other boys form his pack, Jimin and Hoseok. You swallowed hiding behind the wall where you could hear them, waiting for the two to leave so you could get to speak to him alone.

“Come on hyung. Come on another run tonight.” You could hear Jimin asking

Jin closed his locker after switching out his books then leaning up against it. “I can’t tonight.”

“Why? Gotta go see your girlfriend?” Jimin teases.

Jin hesitated.

You couldn’t see his expression from your place. Your heart sunk, lower lip trapped between your teeth. Had Jenny finally asked him out? Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“No, fuck off Jimin, you already know why.”

Your brows furrow. Has something been going on with Jin? How come he hasn’t told you. He used to tell you everything. You miss the conversation slightly as you contemplate what you’ve been missing with Jin. You had so much to ask him. The question on the tip of your tongue too was –had he finally fully shifted? He had always told you that he had wanted you to be the first he showed his wolf.

Zoning back in you hear Hoseok question. “Come to think of it, haven’t seen Y/n in a while, she doing okay?”

“Normally you’re like a dog in heat around her.”

“No I’m not! I don’t see her like that.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t have time for feelings or emotions.”

You cover your mouth, swallowing your feeling. You suffocate the tears. Everything the girls said were confirmed.

Jin had been so engulfed in his protecting his ego, he hadn’t been able to sense you just around the corner. He then smells it. He smells you. His head twirled towards the wall where he knew you were hiding just behind. He knows your there. He clenched his fist, he wants to go after you but he can’t, it would only prove the teasing.

Clenching your books closer to your chest you run away. Your mind working a thousand miles an hour. Lost in your turmoil you miss that you’re walking straight into someone. Stumbling slightly you look up seeing the person you didn’t want to run into. You don’t pause to apologize or recognize her yelling at you. You needed to get away. The whole day you manage to evade him and everyone—you praise that it was Friday.

Coming home your parents were sitting in the kitchen, the only light on in the house was hanging over the dinning table. Your parents look up at you sadly. “Honey, we have some bad news.”

Your backpack slouched off your shoulders and onto the floor as you took a seat.

Your mother swallowed, placing her hand on top of yours. “We’re moving. I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I know you have so many friends here. Your father’s job is forcing him to transfer to the city, the plant here is shutting down.”

You remain stoic, processing the information. However, you smile, squezzing her hand back in assurance. “How soon can we go?”

Their expression registered shocked. Clearing their throats as they somberly told you, “We’re leaving next week.”

Nodding you get up from the table, leaving your parents apologizing to you. You dragged yourself to your room. Standing alone in the darkness, words found you again. “Not soon enough.”

You moved away, and soon what it was like to be around him everyday was forgotten. You became strangers. An unpleasant memory.

You had done college, and decided early on that you wanted to go into law. Those leather bound, vintage law books was the only thing you actively brought with you from the past. Law was consistent, but ever changing. It allowed you to find a voice, a place where arguments meant something—your voice meant something. It paved the way for a new you and when you entered law school you flourished under the pressure. Everything felt like progress, at least until the day you showed up at the internship. You no longer had the luxury of pretending. Standing in the attorney’s office was Jin among the two other interns. Seeing him first saw him again felt like all wind had been sucked out of you. It was like a ghost had aspirated and so did the sting of rejection. It was all accompanied by an odd sense of longing that passed through you. You saw the way his eyes widened with recognition when he saw you.

But you both made no motion towards the other, frozen in space and time.

Ironically, time should have done its job and all healing had been done, but scars were just thicker scabs.

The nostalgia quickly washed away as it twisted into the familiar shape of disdain towards him. He was brilliant and It was irritating, so you always were sharp with him, cold even, not willing to lose to him. A rivalry quickly evolved between you. He seemed to feel the same way as he would always retaliate back. You couldn’t last a few minutes without bickering. Words just as venomous and an amused smirk always followed.

“What are you doing? Did I mess up a secret meeting?” He throws your question back at you, grounding you back into the present.

Looking at Seokjin now, he had grown up well. He had grown in height, completely towering over you. His shoulders were broad tapering off like a V to a tiny wait. He looked great in an all black suit. Thick, dark hair pushed away from his face showed off his thick brows and symmetric features. You had eyes, but your mouth would never admit it out loud how good he looked.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Avoiding Logan.”

“Logan?” You missed the way his red eyes darken deeply as it looks black. He had heard the footsteps, but now he could put a name to it. “Are you fucking him?” He questions easily, never one for a filter.

Your eyes widen, the crudeness expected despite your aggressive bickering. “Are you seriously asking me that Seokjin?” The though was so absurd and ridiculous. Has he lost his mind. What more you had never even touched this type of topic with him before, who was he to ask about your sex life.

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks. “I don’t know, it’s just an obvious conclusion to draw. Considering he follows after you like a lost puppy.” He feigned a look of pity. “It’s pathetic.”

The tone he takes with talking about Logan surprises you. He never outwardly showed that the man irritated him. You had seen them chatting around the office even. Considering your desk were next to one another it was inevitable. Anger filled you again, was he calling it pathetic because he was pursuing you? Bastard.

Lazily he leaned up against the shelf, as if he was waiting for a reaction he knew he’d get from you.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” you groan, an onset headache coming on from how childish it all was. Growing frustrated and hotter by the second stuck in the closet with him. You turned to leave.

“Leaving so soon? Don’t you want to wait for him to come back around?”

“Seokjin, will you cut it out. What is with you right now?”

He shrugged, still measuring you with a hardened gaze and lips tight in anger. “Nothing.”

Why was he so angry? Earlier you had noticed that all the bigwigs were laughing easily at his jokes. Something you couldn’t deny about Seokjin was his charisma. It was easy be persuaded by him, you used to be stupid enough to be swayed by it too. Shouldn’t he be on cloudy nine, probably having already solidified a job post grad.

“Whatever. Enjoy your night Seokjin. Don’t suck off potential employers too much.”

That had him laughing. “Ever one to need footsteps to be followed. Lead the way then.”

You glare at him in what you picture to be intimidating at him. Pulling open the door. “Fuck you Seokjin.”

You stomped away, faintly hearing the laughing coming from the closet. Luckily, no one was in the hallway.

You had been aimlessly staring at an one of the many orange sticky notes you had tacked onto the glass pane between the desk. Pink was current deadlines, orange upcoming, and blue was for your frustrations. The low cubicles truly didn’t provide privacy, but it wasn’t permanent anyways so you didn’t really put effort into personalizing it. You were trying to read the orange sticky note with the date November 29th ominously written on it. You couldn’t for the life of you remember what was due on that date. The pink note next to it reading the date December 4th was a blaring reminder of the last day of your internship.

Awakening from your thoughts you heard Logan still been droning on to you about whatever he was talking about. You had stopped listening after he called your name, you hummed like you were paying attention, then zoned out. He was leaning on the glass, his desk situated right next to yours. Jin’s was situated across from yours, but he wasn’t at his desk at the moment. At least that saved you a headache.

Your phone rings and you answer it instantly, cutting off whatever he was saying. You give him a pretend fake smile, one to which he luckily accepts sitting back at his desk. Its quick as the secretary is hanging up on you before you can tell her that you’ll be there in a moment. Gathering your things, taking an extra pen just in case, you head towards the elevators.

Knocking on the door twice you let yourself in quietly behind you. Your boss was a passive man, preferring those to act than be told what to do. Turning around taking in the office before pausing noticing the back of someone’s head already sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. The chair meant to occupy your boss was empty.

Remembering where you are you and ignoring him as you stride until you plop yourself into the empty seat. You refuse to look at him, instead sorting out your tablet to take notes on. You just had to wait until your boss came in the room—you could be patient. You had a vague idea of what he may want to talk to you about, but with Jin here you were at a lost. What was he doing here anyways? Had the secretary gotten his appointments mixed up? It’s been two weeks since the event. You had spoken to him since, but it had been the usual bickering. Something had changed though, it was something atmospheric between the two of you, but you couldn’t place an instance on the beginning of the feeling. Oddly, you found yourself searching for him whenever you came to the office, which had brought its own set of turmoil that you’ve yet to unravel. Now that you were sitting next to him, somehow you felt the sense of pettiness overcome you again.

Finally looking at him you notice how great he looked today. He wore common slacks and a button up, but he made the ensemble look great.

Jin asked, “What are you here for?”

Crossing your legs over you flip open your notebook. “None of your business Kim.” You hate that you had done such a good job hiding the layers of hatred and anger, but you could even recognize the coldness in your tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Clue me in Seokjin.”

He shrugged, clearly wanting you to put the pieces together. Rubbing at your scalp muttering under your breath. “It’s too early for this,” checking your watch, “it’s only eight-thirty in the morning, I haven’t had my coffee yet, and I have to deal with guy.”

“That explains your snappiness. You do seem constipated.”

You audibly gasp, a retort on the tip of your tongue when the door burst open to reveal your boss. A grin already on Jin’s face knowing he got the last word in before he neutralizes it. Paying you both no mind he continued grumbling into his phone that’s tucked between his neck and ear as his other hand holds a cup of coffee and a stack of paperwork in the other. Min Yoongi, your boss, was a man of few words elusive at times, but his tongue was sharper than any knife. His mind was brilliant too, a legend amongst law students. you had heard stories of his infamous mock trials when he was in school and how he had won trails out like a daredevil. He was intimidating to say the least.

Jin’s gaze was still on you before he turned to your boss who plopped into his chair. He seems frazzled, tie a bit disheveled and dress shirt not as freshly pressed as it should be. The fact that you looked kept together in front of him was kind of embarrassing. It was common sense that interns should look that way. Did his appearance have something to do with the 29th? Shit, you really needed to figure out what event was happening that day.

He flung a thick packet in a folder over to you and Jin. You flipped open the folder and read the first page. Peaking over from yours to Seokjin’s you see he was given the exact same paper.

“I’m assigning this case to the both of you.”

“Mr. Min, I don’t mean to impose on your judgement, but I can handle this on my own.” You squinted as you read it over. It seems like a generic divorce case based on the short preliminary interview.

“Can you?” Jin quirked a brow at you. You already have insults on the tip of your tounge but he continued. “Look, I’m just saying because remember that one time—.”

You bark out his name before he can continue, already knowing what story he was going to reference.

“Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N.” You both instantly shut up. “If you both are treating this opportunity simply as some game between the both of you then I’m sorry to inform you that you may not be needed anymore. This is court of law. So tell me—do I need to provide this opportunity to someone else?”

At the same time you both respond. “No, Sir.”

The way he was glaring at the both of you had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Look, Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll admit you are smart, just as much as I think Mr. Kim is capable of handling his own cases. I need the both of you on it because this isn’t an ordinary case. It won’t only go to trial in court, but Kinds court too.”

The only thing you hadn’t expected to come to find out was he was also a kind. Kind being something they used in the human world to refer to their supernatural counterpart for political correctness. One afternoon not long into your internship, but months ago, you had called Jin wolf boy in the breakroom, not knowing your boss was walking in. Anyone else would think it was a passing comment, but the narrowed look that he gave you had you crystalizing. It had become second nature to you identifying when someone was otherly. Yoongi only commented as he walked out to make sure that you both keep it that only you knew.

Jin stiffened next to you, his gaze snapping up to look at Yoongi. An exchange of glances went between them that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Seeing as you already know about our kind Ms. Y/L/N, I would like that you both work on this together. Prepare it for the courts and depending on how it goes there the Kind’s will deal with it following. Frankly, we need you on this case to keep things right on the human end. And Seokjin we need you because you have the knowledge that comes with it. I expect the both of you can approach this and prepare a case that is thorough. We cannot risk the underlying truth getting out to the public. Dress it up how you have to, leave the kind out of it until human laws can punish as needed.” He centers you both with a stare that’s unwavering, even you feel the expressive. “Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes.” Simultaneously you both respond.

Yoongi finally sits back taking a sip from his coffee that was still just a little too hot. “Everything you need is in the folder. Now get out.”

Beginning to gather you stuff, relaxing your jaw just a bit, “Thank you Sir.” You stride out of the room without looking back.

You leave not bothering to hold it for him. He was right behind you, closing the door so it wouldn’t slam shut. He watched as you strut down the hall. He huffed realizing you weren’t going to wait to talk about the case. Calling your name does no good as you still keep towards the elevators.

When the door closes, you take a moment. Truth be told, the gravity of it is not lost on you. This was going to force you and him to be close again. Backing down would prove you and the grin that would be on Seokjin’s face knowing you gave up would be enough to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. You swear you could handle it. It is just Seokjin. Your career depends on this and doing well.

But why was your heart beating so fast?

Sitting in an empty conference room, you were going over the material again. It seemed like a regular case of infidelity and the wife was filing for divorce. After Min’s pressing of the importance of this case it felt like he was mocking you. This was a case that felt “practical”. In school you had gone over these types of cases a thousand times—introduction on legal fairness and getting the most for your client. Just because it involved the kind doesn’t mean the law will treat it any different.

At least that’s what it all seemed to be.

Standing up from your seat when you heard the door handle clicking open you put on a an air of professionalism. A short woman, who nearly curled in on herself shuffled into the room. Her blue cardigan nearly engulfed her being, but her maxi dress underneath disguised most of her petite figure anyways. A male followed behind her with a hand on her back. That had you breaking your professionalism for a split second as you lifted your brow. The way he held her was anything but platonic. You wondered shortly if that was the man in the ex-husband in question.

Extending your hand out to her in greeting. “Hello, Ms. West, I’m Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

In the softest voice she greeted you back. You turn to greet the male he introduced himself as Damien Caldwell. With your hand still out towards him, he refused to shake your hand. Mentioning something along the lines of scent tainting. Pretending you understood you signaled them to take a seat.

You all take a seat with Jin next to you and them across.

Carefully observing her you monitor that she was fidgeting a lot, clearly nervous.

Jin glanced at you and his expression was conveying, “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

You forced a smile in his direction, reading into his silent message. “Fine.”

Jin adjust himself, pen in hand gesturing towards them. “Mrs. Gloria West , can you please restate your case?” Although you both had the intake form in front of you, you needed her to state clearly what she was here for.

She begins fidgeting, biting her lip tears welding up in her eyes. Damien gently began rubbing her back. “You can do this. This is your story to tell.”

She nods, sniffling, finally looking up and you finally get a glimpse of her face. Her delicate features look worn out, dark circles under her eyes.

Your features soften, and you give her a genuinely soft smile. Handing her a tissue she thanked you softly. Dabbing the corners of her eyes she began, “My,” she licked her lips as if uttering the words brought bitterness to her, “husband has been cheating on me. I found out he has another family.” She reached into her purse pulling out a card that says Happy Father’s Day. “I found it in his underwear drawer when I was putting his clothes away last week.”

Jin followed up. “You’ve previously stated that your husband has claimed you, is this correct?”

“Yes.” She pushed aside the collar of her cardigan exposing the flaring bite marks where fangs met skin.

Pen pausing on paper you forced your jaw to stay closed. You hadn’t really prepared yourself for what claiming really meant. The primal signature was jarring. The two puncture wounds looked poorly scared, the tissue surrounding it somehow still rejecting the mark.

She covered it up again. “I was young and naïve when we first met, just out of high school and didn’t have much experience. He was five years my senior. I didn’t understand what it all meant at the time. I thought the butterflies I got seeing him meant he was my mate. I was hopelessly in love.” Tears brimmed in her eyes again, but she sniffled preventing them from falling. “He told me I was his mate. I believed him. I let him mark me.” She spoke the words as if they burned her. “We got married three years ago, right after he marked me.”

You were disgusted, stomach unsettled, forced marriage seemed so archaic. Your fist curled under the table. You didn’t understand the depth of what happened in the kind context, but it still irked you. You didn’t let it show on your face though.

Damien was getting restless, clearly irate.

Jin visibly tensed. You see his jaw clench. You fill in for him. “Daniel West, your husband, how did you know he wasn’t your mate?” The word sounded unfamiliar in your mouth. You had heard it spun around before, but never truly knew the meaning. Although you could conclude that it seemed to imply partner.

She looked to Damien and her face seemed to lighten up, dark circles diminishing, as she looked at him. He had the same look at her. Clearly you could tell they were in love. “I found Damien. I knew it was the real thing because it hurt being apart. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Just a touch and it felt electric. I can’t explain it, but I just…knew. I just knew he was it.”

“Is there any other signs of another partner or family?”

“He smells like her.” She swallowed harshly. “He smells like other women too, but her the most.”

“Is there any other factors that are telling? Like photo evidence?”

“No.” You tilted your head considering it over. You couldn’t use smell in court to prove infidelity. You breathed in harshly, slouching forward. How were you supposed to find evidence?

Jin hasn’t spoken the entire time, lost in thought and focusing on the incoming information. “Are there any children?”

She nodded.

“How many? Please identify them.” She goes on to list two children, one three years old and a newborn.

Jin stared at the Damien for a moment. “I know this is a sensitive question, however, I must ask this. Did you mark him?”

It seems Jin had already predicted Damien’s response as the sound of paper crumpling in Damien’s fist was loud. His fist shook form the strength of his anger. Gloria reached over grabbing onto his leg, and his grip loosened up slightly.

She apologized to him. His fist completely unclenched as both of his hands cupped her face. “No, no, no, honey. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. You know that right.”

She closed her eyes, calming and basking in the affection. “I know.”

You blushed yourself, feeling as if you had intruded in an intimate moment. You can’t help but follow your instincts telling you to look at Jin. You feel like you see Seokjin for who he is, not how you’ve constructed him. At the same time you find yourself suddenly reminded—he was different. Stern and cold, eyes empty of all the things that used to make him goofy. It was as if you had lost the dictionary. Unable to translate a language that was once native to you. His quirky awkward fillers and jokes have matured into standards. He holds punctuation in his tone, powerful. Calculating in a way you didn't know he could be. Your eyes follow the curve of his plump lips, the curve of his nose and then the entire profile. It feels intimate.

You pause and wonder if Seokjin has a mate. Did he look at them like that too?

You pause diffusing those thoughts, you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way. Focusing back on the case at hand you know mating is something that cant be proven scientifically. It’s a feeling.

She blushed, taking both of her mates hands into hers and placing them on her lap. With more confidence she turned back to you both. “No. I didn’t know then that it had to be both. Daniel told me that marking me would be enough for the both of us. I didn’t realize it until later. When I brought it up he told me I was wrong, that I didn’t know any better. That people were just trying to put ideas into my head and he knew best. I believed him, until I felt the real feeling.”

“You will have a trail before the elders after this, are you aware of that?” Jin says.

“Yes.”

With a thoughtful pause, Jin smiled reaching out to shake their hands. “That concludes questions for today. Thank you both for your time.”

Reaching out to Gloria, you shake her hand, “You’re very brave for this. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

She smiled, patting your hand. “Thank you.”

You help escort them to the door and they assure you they know the way out. Shutting the door with a click you find Seokjin hunching over his notes. All sense of comfort he offered earlier and professionalism drained form him.

Eyeing him curiously, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“This…this…this is worst case scenario.” He says.

“Can’t she just get rid of the mark? Things like this are reversable right? She found her mate,” you say the last word with uncertainty as its unfamiliar on your tongue. Logical solutions are the only way you can navigate.

“No, Y/n. it doesn’t work like that.” Voice accusatory.

You shrink, feeling as he had called you stupid indirectly. His fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting over the papers, unable to look at you. “The mark is permanent and can’t be undone. She’s bound to him, but he wasn’t.” He raises his voice towards the end.

“Why are you getting angry?”

When he looked up at you his eyes are red. “You don’t get it.”

You falter. His words hit hard and ring like a ghost putting you back into your old room. Those words engraved like a scar on your heart. Pulling back the scar you are put back in time.

Pacing more folded clothes in the cardboard boxes you glance out your window. It was a full moon.

You couldn’t sleep so you began packing, you were due to move out the following day.

Standing up, you went to the window, staring at the moon. Your eye follows the bush and thick trees that line the property. The night seemed to be so quiet and clear. You felt suffocated in your room, your thoughts making you claustrophobic. You pushed open the window, carefully to make the least noise as possible. Going back to your boxes you fished out a jacket and put on shoes. You slipped through and hit the grass with a thud. Closing your window behind you, you turn back towards the beginning of the forest.

Suddenly a wave of sadness fills you as you remember how Jin used to always come through the same bushes to see you. Clenching your fist and tucking your jacket tighter over you, you force the thoughts of Jin out of your head.

You push pass the bushes, the light of the moon enough to light your way. You follow a faint overgrown carved out path. In all truth you had only ventured out a few times into the forest each time with him. Jin had always warned you that it wasn’t safe, but he wasn’t here to tell you otherwise. You could make your own choices. Remembering that there was a small ravine nearby you began heading towards it knowing it was somewhere nearby. The sounds of crickets was the only thing you heard besides the crunching of your shoes on mulch.

The air grew noticeably heavier with a mist and you could hear the soft sound of water running. Heading down a slope you end up at the shore of a riverbed. The water was running gently over the darkened stones underneath, just a bit further down the river picked up, frothing as it hit protruding stones. You dip your hand into the spring water, the cold causing you to shiver.

For a moment you can imagine that it’s just you in the world.

Tomorrow this would be all but a dream.

From across the bed, along the other shoreline, twigs crunch. Ripping your hand form the water you freeze in place. Scanning the shoreline, you couldn’t see anything. Your mind pictured a thousand things it could be. Even in the dark you could make out red eyes looking at you. The being shifted to an opening on the shoreline before taking on the large silhouette of wolf. Its fur was black, dark as the sky.

You stayed put, afraid to rile it up by running despite all instincts saying to do so. It stepped closer, entering the water and trudged closer to you. You weren’t ready to die. It held your gaze the entire time. As it grew closer the wolf was larger than what you’d expect to be average, it was more comparable to a grizzly bear.

It kept coming closer and your heart even louder in your ears. You lost your balance falling on your ass with a shriek. You weren’t quick enough to recover as it was hovering over you. You could feel its hot breath fanning over you with its heavy breaths. It growled and your muscles tensed in fear. It just hovered over you, you wondered if it was waiting for you to make a move.

Willing your eyes to open, all at once you felt like you had recognized the beast. “J-Jin?”

Sensing your fear, it then whined. Then he is shifting, limbs elongating and spine curving as he growled through the process. You can’t bear to look at him as you hear the sound of bone cracking and popping. The sound having goosebumps pill your flesh.

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was deep and cold, lacking its usual warmth. When you turn to look at him you no longer see a massive wolf but Jin. His eyes were still red and you stare, trapped within the color. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. The tattered clothing that had stuck to his previous form manifested in torn pants, but he was shirtless.

Wrinkling your nose. Just when you thought you could get away from him, he manifest. “I can be here if I want. Who are you to say I can’t?”

His wolf hadn’t settled, taking your challenge personal rather than rational. “Its too dangerous.”

“We haven’t spoken in so long and the first thing you do is yell at me.”

His expression softened, but he still appeared stern. “Go home.”

“Really Jin?”

“Go home!”

“Do you really not care about me? What you said to Jimin, is it really true?”

When he remained quiet, you found your answer. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to suffocate the tears.

“You don’t understand.” He heaved.

“Obviously, so why! Why won’t you talk to me!” Your nerves finally snap. Tears were prickling at your eyes regardless of how much you fought to keep them down.

“Can’t you give me some space! You just need to give me space sometimes.”

“No! This isn’t you, you’d tell me everything. There are no secrets between us. I want answers. Is it that easy to you to throw away everything we have?”

He growled and stepped up to you, inches away looking down at you. Your neck was kinked back staring back at him with equal challenge. His nostrils flare as he takes in your sense. His chest rumbled.

“I don’t want you to know! I don’t want you know about that part of me. So stay out of it! Leave it alone and me alone. I don’t need you.”

Feeling so small, it hadn’t occurred to you that he didn’t see you as important enough. You hated how much you had relied on him. You feel like a child whining to a parent. Maybe the girls were right. Jin would never look at you like that. You were an outsider to his real world anyways. “Fine. You know what, you’re right I don’t understand and never will. I see what I mean to you now.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you swiped them away as soon as they broke.

“Y/n.” The anger melted away from his being instantly, realizing what he said. He wants to take it all back, but he can’t find the right words. He stepped towards you and you took two steps back. You wanted to get away from him.

“You’ll never have to see me again.” You laughed, but it wasn’t in humor, instead full of bitterness.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean leaving?”

“What do you care Jin? Aren’t you getting what you want? You don’t need me. You’ll never have to worry about me getting in your business or caring about you again. I’m moving tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.” You turned away from him. His red eyes imprinting in your memory like a branding. You swore before you turned away you saw tears, but you refused to believe it.

He had made his bed, now he had to lay in it.

When you remained quiet, Jin began packing his stuff quietly realizing his outburst. You can only assume he remembered the same thing.

Sighing heavily he tries to dispel the anger, his eyes flashing back to normal. “We’ll discuss things later.”

You hate that it makes your heart sink. You don’t like that he’s pushing you away. He had done it before, but he wasn’t going to do it again. “Of course I don’t, so explain it to me now.”

He ignores you and makes towards the door. Before he makes it you grab onto his forearm. “Will you listen. Don’t walk away from me.”

His body stiffens instantly, although his chest was still heaving. When he turns to look at you, you let go of him like you had been burned. You crossing your arms over your chest protectively. Knowing he no longer plans to leave you follow up, “Look, I don’t know as much as I thought. Don’t punish me for it. I just want to solve this case as you do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just…imagining someone claiming—.“

Your chest deflated too with his reaction it gave you an unspoken conclusion. He had a mate. You should’ve known better than to let your thoughts trail on earlier. Instead you focused on his apology. “We need to work together right? This is our last case here and we can get through this professionally.”

“Can we?”

You smirked, “I can behave if you can.” You straightened up, extending out your hand to him, “Let’s call a truce or something.”

He accepted it, but still held onto it which was something you didn’t expect. “Something?”

“I mean do you have a better status to call whatever this is?”

“Truce implies I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

The way Seokjin looked at you felt like he was truly looking at you. You almost felt paralyzed as you couldn’t look away. His words felt—genuine. But you refused to lean into that, you didn’t want to read into his words too much. You rolled your eyes, unconvinced pulling your hand out of his. “Okay, alright, I said behave”

“Really. I don’t.” Weakly he smiled.

“So truce or not?”

“Okay.” He answered.

“Okay.” You repeat back.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Give me your phone.”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He saved his phone number, calling himself, before handing it back. “Don’t abuse it now.”

You scoffed, nearly choking on your own saliva. Unable to stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. “You wish.”

He genuinely laughed, the high pitch sound unique and squeaky. Turning to leave, he paused in the doorway looking over his shoulder. “Another thing.”

You hummed, looking at him expectantly. You saw the cheeky smirk before it bloomed. “Keep the messaging to during the daylight hours, alright.”

“Seokjin!”

He closed the door quickly behind him, evading your spitfire.

He isn’t sinking back into your life. You aren’t even friends. You both were going to go your separate ways after the internship, and you were never likely to run into him again.

You had nothing to lose.

Truce.

Shutting the door behind you a bit harder than necessary, you toe off your heels and hook your keys up.

Your roommate, Mia, was already sprawled out on the couch. Slumping right next to her and crowding her out. The sounds you emit sounded like a deflating air mattress as you groan.

“Yikes, that bad of a day?” Shuffling to adjust herself again on the couch.

Closing your eyes you nodded. She laughed, clearly not buying the way you played victim. “What did he do today?”

Mia had been a friend you made during college, and quickly became your closets friends. When you both graduated you found yourself needing someone to roommate with while job searching and grad school stuff. You had found out about her being a Kind early on in your sharing of home. She was more surprised to find out that you had already known about it. That’s when you told her about your childhood, leaving out names, all until recently where she was too smart and connected the dots. Wolves and their intuition.

“Okay, first off, not everything isn’t about him. And secondly, how dare you be right about it.”

She laughed, her laptop nearly falling off her lap. You loath her, her and her perceptiveness. She was smart, but sometimes too smart for your own good. “It just—he’s so irritating! I just said one wrong thing today and he exploded. Then we had a truce and get this, he said he didn’t hate me.” Confessing all on your own, you felt accosted just by her silence.

Her eyebrow quirked at that, followed by a cheshire grin. “You two getting along now then? Is that’s what’s upsetting you?”

“No. It’s just—he played the good guy and it made me feel stupid. I have been doing my best and then he comes along and makes me feel—ughh! It’s just this case is stressful. I feel way out of my depths.”” You have your hands in the air scratching at the air.

“Leave then.” She shrugged, stating the obvious solution. She already had let this type of complaining go in one ear and out the other. Since the beginning of your internship you had come home and vented about your day, mostly revolving around him as the topic of choice. How he irritated you that day, or simply breathed the wrong way. Even to yourself, the amount of time he has been able to rile you up lately has become annoying.

“I can’t just leave, you know how hard I worked for this. You know how important this place is. Besides, I need it to graduate.”

“Well then, why were you arguing anyways? What does this have to do with your case?”

“Everything to do with it.”

She nodded. Realizing it must not be within your realm she opens up, “Need insight?”

You shifted on the couch tucking your legs underneath you. “What’s marking or ‘laying claim’?”

She turned to you, “Are you serious?” For the first time in your friendship you saw her blush. She was always forthcoming with sexuality and whatnot, so this was out of character for her.

“Yes.”

“Did he ask you about it?”

You squinted at her, “No, why?”

She cleared her throat, waving her hand, “No, nothing.”

“Well its not PG-13.” She licked her lips.

“Well thank goodness I’m not a virgin maiden in waiting. What is it? You’re stalling.” Her reaction made you infinitely more curious.

“Okay, well honey, when two mates, who love eachother very much—.”

“Oh god, stop it, please be serious for once!”

She laughed. “Fine. It’s a sacred ritual that connects two mates together. Or in layman terms, two soulmates together via a bite mark. It acts like rings? But its more than that. Its hard to explain.”

“Soulmates?” You suffocated the scoff. Out of all things she said to be appalled at. “That doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at you. “They do! You humans just don’t believe it because you’ve corrupted the system.”

“So it can’t it just be anyone? You know, fall in love and just know that person is it, the one?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s this instinctual feeling. This soul connection. You’ll know it when you feel it kind of thing.”

“Ugh, that’s what she said too.” You rubbed at your temples. “I can’t use a feeling as evidence.”

You sighed, “I can’t tell you about the case, but hypothetically if this happened. Hypotheticals only.”

She suffocated a laugh, rolling her wrist in a circle, hand gesturing for you to continue.

“So hypothetically, the client was hypothetically marked by someone other than her mate. What does that mean—hypothetically?”

Her face sobered, “Are you serious?”

You nodded.

Fiddling with her fingernails, she looked genuinely troubled. “How can that even happen?” She mumbled to herself before she turned to you. “I don’t know of any worse punishment. The pain that comes with that either is unimaginable. It’s violation of not only culture, but its inhumane. The human equivalency of forced marriage, but even then that equivalency doesn’t compare how bad it is. Murder, maybe?”

“What would happen to the one who bit the other…hypothetically?”

“Normally, death. There would be a match between the actual mate and the one who bit until death, but times have changed. The punishment is still severe.”

You take pause realizing how serious it all was. You weren’t sold to the idea of love, or soulmates, but being forced in a marriage the idea made you sick. You finally could see why Seokjin was so upset earlier. Sighing heavily you let your head fall back on the couch onto the cushion stared at the ceiling. How could you find evidence against this guy then?

“We gotta make him pay.” Looking towards her. “Do you think a guy who has a separate family would leave a paper trail?”

“You just need to find his social accounts. Cheaters usually have multiple accounts under different pseudonyms. Their downfall though is that most guys are stupid enough to not undo the geo tag or take the photos all in the same place.”

“I’ve already looked into it. He only has one account. It’s pretty generic, nothing telling.”

“But have you?” She gave you this side eye. “He must have a fake account then. Probably all his closets friends follow it, so we just have to find a similar name that seems to be a generic account.” The whole time she had been speaking to you she had been doing the research.

“Done.”

Your jaw dropped. She did that so fast. Could you blame her though, as an IT specialist she knew the ins and outs of things like this.

“You evil genius!” She pulled it back to herself, you scooching to sit next to her so you can watch what she does. Scrolling through, she squinted. “Seems he recently was on this page.” She clicked on link bringing up a page to a club named Fluxx. Scrolling through you both catch a comment under an event from West. The DJ who was playing there apparently was his favorite, him and his boys were going to be there to see it that weekend.

She turned her laptop towards you. “You’d think he’s in college still.”

“What if…what if I go. I’m sure he isn’t going to just party with his friends. I’m sure he’s going to be there looking for his next victim.”

She shut her laptop, scowling at you. “No. Absolutely not.”

You pout, “Why not? You realize this give me the evidence I need to proof the case.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a club for others. Humans can’t get in here unless you’re someone’s play thing or—.”

“Or what?”

“With someone who is.”

You stare at her expectantly.

“No.”

“Come on!” You whine, tugging at her sleeve.

“No, this is dangerous!” She set her laptop on the coffee table, moving away from you so you couldn’t provoke her. Getting up form the couch she headed towards the kitchen. You sigh following after her. She reached into a cabinet for a mug.

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

She slammed down her mug, and you jumped. You had never seen her upset. She turned to you with a look of disbelief. “Child? This isn’t a game, y/n. You apparently don’t what kind of shit you’re getting into. My kind have to live in the shadows, and do you know what happens in the shadow.” Her comment was rhetoric.

You kept your mouth shut.

“Humans are no longer the superior race in there. Not all kinds are what you think. You’d get eaten alive the moment you let your guard down.”

“I didn’t go through all this trouble to find a good lead to get scared away by the what ifs. Besides, you’ll be there with me, right?”

“They’re not what ifs, y/n.”

“Yes, they are. You went there before and are standing here today.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. I understand okay! I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I’ve heard it before and I don’t need to hear it from you!”

She turned to look at you with a pointed glare. You stood your ground.

She huffed preparing herself a drink. You stared at her back. For a moment you held doubt. What if she was right. What if you were getting yourself in something bigger than you anticipated. Picturing back to earlier in the day to Gloria and the amount of fear she had regarding her husband had your stomach sinking. The look that Seokjin had, the anger in him, and now hearing of the significance. The sense of justice found itself rooting in you even thicker.

“Alright.”

Pushing off the counter you were leaning on, Mia dropped the spoon she was using to swirl her drink in the sink noisily.

“You’re planning on going anyways aren’t you.”

Painting her with a look of exhaustion and resolve. “I am.”

“How?” she tossed her hands up in the air.

“I don’t know, I always figure things out somehow.”

She picked up her mug pushing past you then picking up her laptop going into her room. She slammed the door.

You slumped back onto the couch. Biting on your thumb. How were you supposed to get in now?

She came storming out of her room thirty minutes later. Rubbing her temples with a look of distress.

“Can’t you just hire a PI or something?”

“No, you yourself said being a kind is a secret. I can’t hire someone to watch him.”

She bit her lip, “Do you have to be this stubborn?”

You chuckled. “Yes. A woman’s life is going to be decided if or not I can prove her husband is a dick. Even if that means putting myself out there to prove it. I really want justice for her.”

“God, I really hate you sometimes.”

You smirked sitting up. “Does that mean you’ll get me in.”

“I swear to God if you get hurt—.”

“We won’t, I won’t.” You rushed towards her wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you, this means a lot. You know I wouldn’t ask something form you if I didn’t mean it right.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“You owe me big time!”

“Whatever you want darling, the world is ours!”

Finding yourself back at the office after finishing all your classes in the morning. You were exhausted. The week, on top of the internship, had been exam heavy. You found it difficult to raise your head from your desk. Luckily for you, the office was nearly empty including of the other three. All others were at their campus or otherwise. You purposefully came on this day to get your work done.

Your phone pinged, notifying you got a text. With your hand you blindly searched for your phone dragging it so you could look at it form your lap with your head still on the table.

You sat up when you noticed who had texted you. You blink at the ID a few times.

Partner in Crime [2:07 p.m.]: We should meet up to work on the case.

You knew enough to deduce it was Seokjin.

You [2:09p.m.]: Who’s this?

Partner in Crime [2:10p.m.]: Are you serious?

You [2:10p.m.]: I’m at the office now.

Pain in the ass [2: 12pm]: Can you meet me at my school’s library in thirty? The office is nearby. I’ll buy you a coffee.

Location sent.

You contemplate. You just wanted to go home. Deal with the case more after this weekend after going to the club. You want to present all your finding and seal the deal all in one session. However, the thought of coffee was convincing enough to have you texting back.

You [2:20pm]: Okay. Be there soon.

Pain in the ass [2:21pm]: I’ll meet you outside.

You found yourself standing outside of the library half an hour later, staring up at the towering building. This was their library? This looked more like a historical site. Well it explained why the tuition here was so expensive. He went to the ivy school, one of the best, if not the best, law programs in the nation. You eyed things with envy. You had applied for this school too, it was a dream of course. But you suppose going to state university granted you only so much prestige.

“The clouds telling you something?” You jump when Jin comes up next to you.

You glare at him. He’s laughed. “Sorry, you looked so lost in your thoughts. Didn’t actually think I’d scare you. Here.” He handed you the other coffee in his hand.

You accepted it gladly, fingers feeling frozen, but pause. “You didn’t poison this right?”

“No, that’d be too easy.”

You nearly snort into your cup. “Spoken like a true soon to be lawyer.”

You miss the endearing stare he gives you as you begin walking up the stairs. He quickly catches up with you putting a hand on the small of your back when a large group of students come your way. He guides you up the stairs keeping you close with the abundant of students pouring in and out. You suppressed the squeak you wanted to let out. His hand was large and warm, the touch radiating through your coat. Your mind tells you you should move away, but you don’t. He leads you to the lower floor where to your surprise was just as magnificent as the base floor. The gothic architecture feels almost as if you’re entering a cathedral. The tables were dark oak wood and heavy looking ordered in long rows of five. Green banker lamps were in the center of each table basking the old scratched up wood in golden light.

Leading you to a table secondarily inward, he took a seat next to you.

Finding it odd, you debate on moving, but you neglect to comment on it. He settled into the seat looking none the more comfortable. Settling in you pulled out your laptop plugging it into an outlet underneath the table. You needed a second to re-center yourself. You didn’t like that you instead of revulsion like you expected to, you felt his presence give you a sense of security. It’s all dangerous, the feeling all too close to the ease you used to have with him.

“Have you come across any new leads?” Jin asked.

You quirked you head, having been so lost in your thoughts. “Huh?”

“New leads?”

“Oh, yeah.” You bring it up a on your laptop and show him. “I found his secret Bookface account. It’s even under a different name, Ethan Miller. He must have many identities and more accounts than this one.”

He brought his arm up resting it on the back of your chair, bringing the both of you closer. You flush thinking nothing of it as his thick thigh brushes yours as he leaned in.

“How’d you find it?” He clicks through the photo album. Pictures of ‘Daniel’ and children appear that look very much like him. Children who were not his with Gloria.

“I know people.”

He looked mildly impressed. “I see, if you tell you’ll have to kill me kind of scenario.”

Shrugging with a bit of pride you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned on the desk. Lamely you shot a single finger gun at him. Realizing how lame it was you quickly tucked your finger back into your fist and crossing your arms. When did you do lame things like that ever? He laughed, and you tried to ignore the embarrassment.

“Anything else?” He was so close to you when he looked up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his lip for a second as he mouthed the words. You quickly brought them back up to his eyes, the dark chocolate color another vortex. Heat rises to your cheeks and he could probably hear your heart picking up in pace. It didn’t help that from how close he was you could smell the cologne he wore, which made you want to lean in and press your face to smell it from his skin. Heat flushes even hotter through you, how brazen of your thoughts were getting.

Remembering he asked you something you answer more breathier than you would like. “No.”

When he straightens up, you were glad he didn’t comment on it. You contemplated telling Jin where you were going, but you keep your mouth shut. You could handle it on your own, all you needed to do was bring the evidence.

You cross your legs attempting to move away from him.

He nodded, taking screenshots before moving on. He finds the photos of his other family just like you did, and the other woman too. He carefully zoomed in squinting at the image of the woman.

“She’s wearing a scarf and in a majority of them.”

“Didn’t take you to be in the fashion police.” That has him snorting a laugh before he goes back to the page. He looked around, finding no one in any of the other rows, you both completely had the basement floor to yourselves. “He must’ve marked her, or newly marked her when they took these photos. She’s trying to cover up the bruising.”

“Is that so abnormal?”

“Well, not necessarily. We just heal rapidly, cuts heal within hours. Marks do take a bit to heal, but it usually heals within a day if cared for properly. But just the way she hiding it and the bruising, It means she’s human. Kinds know marks aren’t meant to be covered up. They’re something sacred and to be worn proudly.”

“So…?”

With his head propped onto his hand he turned to you, eyes boring into you. That feeling arises in your stomach again. The way he was looking at you felt deeper than just a simple glance. You think back to when he said he didn’t hate you. The words still feel impossible.

“Human mates are rare.” Without letting you question it he says, “Bruising could mean it never healed because her body is rejecting him.”

“Wouldn’t he be feeling some repercussions too? It’s a two-way thing right?”

“Yes, but it seems that he’s not being affected. Gloria would have mentioned illness or signs of hyper aggression.” He scrolls over the images. “You’d expect this kind of behavior from—.” Again he pauses, lost in though.

“From what?”

“A rogue.”

You squint. “English, please.”

He smiles at you. “An exiled wolf. When we don’t have a pack for too long our sense of direction becomes distorted. Signs are aggression, loss of humanity and morality, eventually they lose their its ability to revert.”

“And you think he’s one?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It’s plausible.”

“Let’s go through his account and gather more evidence. I can began transcribing the interview. We can do case search too if we have time.”

He nodded his head. You send him the link to West’s account and begin sectioning out the work. Surprisingly, you had worked quietly next together, no bickering. It was—pleasant.

“How’s school going?” His husky voice breaks you out of your concentration. He was still looking at the laptop and writing down notes.

You hummed. “Getting by, you?”

“Same.” He hums back and the lull begins again. You bite at your lip, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why did you decide to go to law school? Weren’t you going to become a chef?”

He had always told you when he was younger, he wanted to become a chef. “Duty called.”

“Let me guess, pack stuff?”

He nods, not missing the way you said it. “I’m expected to become a council member when I graduate. I’m going to take my father’s position and practice in the kind’s court.”

You didn’t know much about his family, things were always surface when you were younger. Playtime and other things taking precedence. You had no idea his father was a lawyer. You had only spoken to his parents a handful of times. His mother was the one who spoke to you mostly, his father was a stoic man.

“But, your dream?”

“I still cook, I just don’t do it professionally.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, I’m happy.”

You thoughtful consider his words. It pains you a little to know he gave up his dream.

“How are they, your pack?”

A fatherlike smile comes on his face. “They’re all well, Namjoon is to be the next pack leader. The others are all doing their own thing, but they’re doing great.”

You smile, the fond memories of the boys resurfacing. “I miss them.”

“Why’d you leave then?”

There it is. The conversation the both of you had been avoiding this whole time. You had asked him something so personal and now he was returning it. The implication of the question wasn’t only why you left town, but him. You knew that, both physically and emotionally. You don’t know if you could offer him that though.

Abruptly your smile leaves you. “My dad got a job here in the city. I had no choice.” Your tone was frigid despite how much you wanted it to sound neutral.

“That’s the only reason?” He didn’t buy it. Based on his tone he sounded hurt. Knowing there was another reason. You hated that he could still read you.

You shrug, maintaining your stance. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.” His voice comes out clipped and sharp.

“What other reason would I have Seokjin?” Willing your voice to stay leveled, you begin using a voice you only use in professional settings.

“You left me.” He spoke the pain that he had held within. When you look over to him his eyes are red.

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted to remain unaffected, but you wanted to reach out to him. You felt the urge to touch him, but your anger kept you steady. “I didn’t leave you, you weren’t there. How can you say I left when you weren’t there.”

“You know that’s not true.” He accused, gaze darkening.

“It’s true.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t answer.”

“That’s bullshit Jin and you know it. For months you ignored me.” Using his words back at him you choked on your words towards the end. You want to say, ‘you didn’t need me’, but the word hung heavy on your tongue, too hurtful even to yourself. You know that you didn’t try to reach out because after what those supposed friends said, it was made true when he just suddenly left. The prioritizing of his pack over you. All your feelings for him were crushed. Heartbreak was easier to deal with when you didn’t have to see their face.

He growls out, “I had things in the pack to handle.”

“Good excuse.” You knew he avoided you for other reasons, it was beginning to urk you that he wasn’t voicing it.

“I couldn’t help it. I was being initiated and had my first complete shift. It was a lot.”

“It’s different and you know it. I—forget it.” You wanted to say so much more, confess how you used to love him. Those feelings feel trivial now, even if they still exist in the present. The realization of the words, even though spoken in your mind had you reliving the pain all over again.

He falters and you almost feel guilty. A darkness spreads over the atmosphere. You spend a moment staring at one another. There is a tension between you two. Yet you can’t deny it’s like magnets. You feel drawn to him despite it all. Always have been. The knowledge of that has you shattering inside.

You stand up. “I’m going to look for a case study.” The wooden chair screeches against the floor. You needed to get away, to cool down. The sound of your shoes echo with the emptiness of the library.

Slinking between the bookcases you keep walking until you are deep within, feeling far enough where you can breathe again. Leaning against a bookshelf you sigh heavily. How come he had this much effect over you still?

Suddenly you feel heat overcome you as Jin suddenly towers over you. Softly his chest rumbles in hushed growls as he caging you in.

“Seokjin, leave me alone.”

When he doesn’t move you attempt to escape, placing your hands on his firm chest and pushing him. Unsurprisingly he doesn’t budge, but he shifts to keep you within his outstretched arms on the bookshelf. His gaze is intense, the red seeming to glow. “No, why do you run away when the conversation gets difficult?”

Humiliation clouds you. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Seokjin I’ve never run, it was you. I stopped chasing when I realized you had other priorities then and I wasn’t one of them. You said so yourself. Simple as that.”

You see him register the memory. His expression turns bitter. “That’s not true.” Gaze narrowed, his hands turn white as he clutches the shelf behind you. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose. Things were complicated and there was a lot I didn’t understand yet.”

“Good excuse.”

“It isn’t!”

“So what?”

“I realized something that—.”

“You didn’t need me.” The words come out of your mouth quietly finishing the sentence for him.

“No!” he growled.

“Keep telling yourself that.” You bit back the feeling of tears. “What do you gain Seokjin from this, huh? Reliving the past? It’s not then anymore. The us, whatever it was, is not now. And nothing will change that.”

The bookshelf creaked under his grip. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that.”

“What? That I’m no longer that young naïve girl? The one that used to follow you around? The one that used to think you were—.” The word mine dies on your tongue. “I don’t need you anymore and haven’t for a while, face it.”

“Please don’t cry.” He looked at you sadly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying. Attempting to wipe your tears, Jin hand took yours holding it while he caressed your face with the other wiping it away for you.

“Please don’t. I can’t handle it.”

He lowers his head and kissed you. The first press of his lips was gentle but deep. A small whimper escapes you; he rumbles in response pressing you closer to the bookcase. His hand dictates yours onto his shoulders while it wrapped around your waist pulling you close to him. It was making you dizzy with how good it felt.

He pulled away warm breathes of quiet between you two. You slowly open your eyes meeting his fiery ones. The warmness and adoration of it catching you off guard. The boyish loopy smile that followed had your heart melting. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours. His lips press against yours again unyielding. You had imagined this before, but this felt better. He kisses your jaw down to your neck. You shiver. The implication of it is not lost on you. He trailed back up finding your lips again in a harsh mesh. With a sigh he pried your mouth open. He moans your name.

Bringing you back to reality. “I—We can’t.”

This wasn’t right on many levels, but most importantly, didn’t he have a mate? Why was he kissing you? You had messed up, messed up big time. How had you caved so easily when he kissed you. You hate that you liked it so much too. You realize from the moment you both met again that the feeling you worked so hard to suppress came back strong. This was a mistake from the beginning. He still makes your heartbeat like it used to.

Seokjin’s arms were still extended towards you. “Why not?”

“I can’t—we can’t.”

You do what you do best. You run. Your heart breaks again for the second time.

Standing outside in line in the dead of fall would have to be the last place you wished to find yourself. The bombing bass thumped through the walls and neon lights outlined the vicinity. Other patrons in line to the club seemed at ease with the near freezing temperature. You suppose its a caveat of being human that your body didn’t run naturally warm. You had been to clubs throughout your college days, but they were far in between. Except this wasn’t any regular club, Fluxx was meant for the underworld. Those of the other kind.

Crossing your arms over your chest you attempt to conserve as much heat as possible. The fire within only kindled by the fact that you are only doing this for the case. The dress you had borrowed form Mia after she had deemed your choice to tame barely covered anything. It was too tight and you were sure that everything underneath was outlined.

Your phone vibrates in your clutch. You step away from Mia, although she was distracted chatting up some guy in the line. You answer it without looking at the ID.

“Hello?” Plugging your other ear with your finger.

“There’s something you need to know.” Jin’s voice comes through. You startle looking at the phone to check if it really was him. After what happened yesterday you hadn’t expected to never speak to him so soon.

Putting it back to your ear. “Can it wait?” You hiss.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“I talked to Yoongi about him being a rogue. It all checks out. I don’t know how much longer before he turns.”

You bite your lip, heart pausing in your chest. You stare at the club for a moment contemplating what you are about to do. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, entering territory still uncharted to you. However, this was the best way to get more proof.

“Y/n? Y/n did you hear me?”

His voice comes back into your ear, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Are you out right now?”

Form the corner of your eye you notice a bouncer going down the line, eyeing those standing in line. Mia grabs your elbow pulling you back to her. You hadn’t told her what happened yesterday. Unable to articulate it either. She mouthed to you, “Everything alright?”

“Where are you?” Jin asked.

You nodded to her.

“I gotta go.”

“Y/n, wait—.” You hung up on him tucking your phone back in your purse.

The bouncer scanned you over before looking to Mia. The smile that bloomed on his face was a bit salacious. “Go on in ladies.” Mia grabbed your arm pulling you to bypass the line. Going through the entrance, the dark narrow hallway, you focus on your footing as it was hard to see. The deep house thumping grew louder until it opened to a large room. Strobing lights were made opaque by the hazy air, thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies were moving to the music as Mia pulled you towards the bar. You were nearly knocked twice by people too drunk to notice or have body awareness.

Mia had already given you the rundown of what to expect. She had spent at least two hours lecturing you on what goes on. These clubs were not just host to one kind, but all. The fact that you were human would send off a few sense and mixing alcohol in the situation it makes things a bit more dangerous. It had already been decided early on that you both would split up.

Mia leaned in at the bar catching the bartender’s attention and ordered for the both of you. Without turning back.

“Spot him yet?”

Scanning the crowd, you look over the bodies, none of them striking familiarity. It isn’t until you scan the private section where the tables are do you find him.

Mia receives the drinks, handing you the soda. Stealthily she looked over spotting the area of where you were looking.

“I’m not getting good vibes Y/n.”

You nearly snorted into your drink. “It’s a club of course you don’t. This place is grimy and full of fuck boy energy.”

Her lips lift in a smile, but it doesn’t stay. “I’m serious.” Biting her lower lip in uncertainty, leaning in she spoke into your ear, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” An important detail you left out was telling her that he was a rogue. You knew that just like Jin she would talk you out of it. To her he was just a douchebag and you were just an ordinary girl hitting on him.

“I’ll come find you. Don’t do anything stupid okay.”

You nodded. She disappeared into the crowd weaving into the swaying bodies dancing seamlessly, leaving you at the bar.

You spotted him leaning into a woman, holding her by the hips and grinding to the beat. She wasn’t any woman you had found on his social media before. You snuck photos pretending to take selfies then going through a few other apps. Seeing him move away from her at the change of the song you took your cue. Moving through the dance floor you approximated yourself. Your heart was beating in your fingertips, fist tightly clutching at your drink. Steps beside him you went into action. Stumbling slightly in front of him, you spilled your drink on his black slacks. He growled as soon as the cold liquid spilled all over him.

Trying to swipe off the drink, “What the fuck!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You played up to the image of innocence and a naïve human.

He paused in his attempt at brushing off the liquid. “A human. What are you doing here sweetheart?” When his eyes meet yours, they don’t just look they linger. The girl he had been speaking to completely forgotten. His eyes flicker down from your face to your body, lingering in erogenous zones before meeting your eyes again. Pretending you didn’t notice, you suppress the urge to smile knowing he’s playing into it.

Now that you were closer you couldn’t deny that the guy was attractive. It made sense how he was able to play so many. His tousled hair was dark and silky. His eyes were piercing and intimidating.

Seokjin’s words ringing in your ear again. Don’t know how much longer we have until he turns. Why did you have to think of him now at all times.

Touching his leg over the stain you squeezed it suggestively still pretending innocence of attempting to clean it. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a clutz.”

“Hold on princess. Take me to dinner first.” He grabbed your hand, but kept it over his legs.

You couldn’t explain it, you felt his touch turning nausea within you.

“Can I pay you to get it cleaned?”

“This thing? I got twenty more, its fine.”

You leaned in, putting your hand on his chest. “Is there another way I can repay you?”

That had him quirking his brows before a twisted grin bloomed on his face. “Got any ideas babygirl?”

You leaned in, playing with a button on his button up. “I can think of a few wolf boy.”

He growled clearly taking on the challenge. “My names Daniel and don’t forget it baby girl.”

He leaned in to capture your lips but you turned to the side. You whispered into his ears, chuckling, “Don’t tease me baby. you’re going to bring the beast out in me.”

Pretending his words were stimulating, you giggled, tossing your head back. Biting your lip you gave him a doe eyed look, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” Blinking up at him, “Please.”

He took your hand leading you through the crowd. You didn’t have time to search for Mia in the crowd, but you had hoped she saw you. He moved towards the back towards an exit door. He pushed open the door you were pulled out into the back alley. As soon as the door closes the noise of the club softened, and Daniel’s labored breathing is the loudest sound. Fog had settled in over the city, and you could see a group of guys lingering just at the entrance, the ember of their cigarette light.

Stepping closer to you he caged you against the damp brick wall. His overwhelming smell of alcohol was suffocating as he leaned in with a smirk on his lips. He leaned in close enough that his breath fanned over the side of your face. Moaning and humming, “You smell like a bitch, hard to believe your just human baby girl.”

“I’ve always had a bit of wild in me.” You smirked.

Throwing his head back as he laughed, then lowering his head following with a groan. He bit the bait. He presses himself closer to you, enjoying the soft curves of yore body against his. Leaning in to speak with hot breath into your ear, “I can tame you. You’d like it if I’d put you in your place right.”

Goosebumps pimpled over your whole being, except it wasn’t because of him. Something changed in the air. Your heart began beating faster in your chest, like a radar beeping when a target was nearing. Breaking eye contact with Daniel you turned towards the alley where your instincts were indicating something was coming. In turn you exposed your neck to him. Daniel rumbled contently in appreciation at your action. He leaned in sniffing your skin, trailing his nose along the column. The action having your stomach twist in a sudden nausea.

The radar in your chest pinged its loudest as through the dense, grey fog you saw red eyes. A shadowed figured, large and imposing, began taking form of the owner of the red eyes. They were heading towards you at a face pace like when a predator locked in on its prey. A harrowing growl comes from the shadow sends a shiver down your spine. Daniel was so lost in your scent he didn’t realize the figure coming at breakneck speed.

When the figure was close enough you finally caught a glimpse of the shadow.

In a whisper, “Jin.”

Fire burned in his eyes, as he struck like a missile. It all happened in a blur of motion; Daniel was ripped from hovering over you. The vicious growls that came from both beings was terrifying. Jin’s anger had always been cold and blunt. You had only seen it once before, but even then, that time feels minute to what happened in front of you. You had never seen him fight before. Fist struck and the sound of bone cracking was like thunder. It was gruesome.

Daniel lost his balance, his eyes turning red as well. Their heavy breathing steamed around their mouth, their fangs elongated to their lower lip. Daniel twitched seemingly resisting shifting fully. However, Jin was the larger of the two, his body partially shifted. His muscles bulged against the fabric of his clothes. The buttons of his dress shirt barely maintained against this broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up, veins pulsing against his muscular forearms. He was out for blood.

“What the fuck man! Get your own bitch!” Daniel growled at Jin, still maintaining his goal of getting you. When Daniel’s eyes shifted over to you, Jin charged him as the scent of lust filled the air. He grabbed at Daniel’s throat, moving backwards until he slammed him to the wall. He held him growling out words you couldn’t make out until he felt Daniel fall unconscious. His heart was still beating. Released him and let him slump to the floor, hovering over him like a predator.

“Jin.” The quiet whisper of his nickname has him coming back down to earth. He whipped around finding you leaning against the wall, knees weak. Your eyes were wide taking in his face. His eyes the deepest red you’ve ever seen, fangs over his lips, and body near feral. However, as soon as he sees that you, it dropped from him and he looking more like a puppy. He hurried over to you. Instead of greeting he grabbed your chin and angled your head to the side to get a glance at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still more wolf than man at the moment. He leaned forward and whined. Your heart stopped in your chest. His body was warm sending a shiver down your spine. His scent was comforting. You hate how good it feels, you hate that your body relaxed instantly when he came to save you. As if you already know everything was going to be alright. To trust and rely on him felt so foreign, but so familiar.

He pulled away but you were so close you could make out his eyelashes individually. He growled, “What were you doing!”

Suddenly what you had been trying to forget comes back full force. Why was he acting like he cared so much? You curled in on yourself, the pettiness returning. “I could’ve handled myself.”

“Oh really? You were just going to let him mark you?” He seethed with an anger like wildfire.

You tried to remain indifferent. “I don’t see what the problem is. It’s just a bite, it’ll heal. I’m not one of you.”

Ignoring him, you pulled your phone out from your pocket showing him that you had a recording going. “I got it.” You pressed pause and saved the file. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking, the adrenaline of it all still coursing through you.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I recorded everything. I even took pictures of him with other women. We can use this as evidence.”

“Y/n?” The moment shatters and you search for the familiar sound of your name.

You see your friend stumbling drunkenly through the door out into the empty alleyway.

“I’m here to save you!” For being a kind, her alcohol tolerance was low. She turned towards you, squinting her eyes. “Whoa, who’s the hot guy? Was I interrupting something.”

You pushed Jin away from you slipping past him to support her as her ankle kept rolling due to the uneven asphalt.

Jin didn’t bother smirking or returning the understanding. He was still beyond pissed.

She looked down to the passed out man, “Holy shit.” She looked to Seokjin, seeing the remnants of his partial shift as he hadn’t bothered to transition back. There was a silent understanding of one another between them as he could tell she was the same as him.

“You were supposed to keep watch, how could you get drunk?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was feeling really nervous about all this. I needed to calm my nerves, so I had a few drinks.”

“We’ll talk in the office.” You directed your words to Seokjin before you began walking away with Mia.

“No, I’m taking you home.”

Mia wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you stay forever?”

You shushed her, bewildered by her behavior. The intense glare he was giving you had you agreeing. “Fine.”

Walking towards his car in silence. She squinted, then her eyes then widened thinking she was whispering to you, “Oh my god is he the one you’ve been talking nonstop about.”

You hush her. “Shut up.”

Through the walk Jin had shifted himself back. A black Audi RS7 beeped as Jin unlocked his car. Mia whistled, “He’s rich.”

“Mia!” You whisper yelled at her. “Please, behave!”

She nodded holding her hands up in an apology. “I’ll behave. I’ll behave.”

You slip into the back with Mia. Her head falls on your shoulder. You gave him your address. He presses the car to start and pulls away. Not long your friend falls asleep, her head falling asleep on your shoulder. You caught him looking at you a few times through the rear-view mirror, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

Pulling in the parking lot of your complex, Jin got out first then opened the door for you. He helped you with Mia and supported her up.

Going to the first floor of your apartment complex you made sure Jin was following you with Mia. Shoving the key in your door you let him in, leading him through your apartment to her room. He laid her down onto her bed. You began helping take her shoes off, Jin leaving to go to the living room. Taking a moment to help her clean up and ready for bed. She smiled at you partially awake, partially asleep.

“What?” You smiled back.

Giggling, “He likes you too.”

You froze, staring at her incredulously before you played it off as she was too drunk to know what she was talking about. “You’re drunk go to sleep.”

She shook her head. She grabbed your hand staring you directly in the eyes. “No, I’m sure.”

“He already has a mate.”

Her eyebrows squinted. “No he doesn’t. He doesn’t smell like it.”

You refrained form rolling your eyes. “You wolves and your weird olfactory fixation.”

She sighed then let go, allowing her eyes to close as she fell asleep. You remained crouched by her bed, trying to decipher her words. Jin, didn’t have a mate? And liked you? She must mean that he tolerated you, civil at most. The kiss the other day meant nothing, you were sure of it. It was spur of the moment, high stress and you both didn’t know what you were doing.

She was drunk what did she know.

Standing up with a click to your knees you groaned, you were exhausted. The adrenaline finally wearing away of what happened earlier. Seeing Jin standing in your living room was awkward. He was looking at the photos on the wall. Specifically staring at a photo of when you were younger and Jin was also in it. You both looked so happy, with paint on both of your faces and white shirts.

You hesitate, weirdly feeling as if you were caught with something you should be. “Kinda hard not finding a picture of the old days without you in it.”

He looked at you, putting his hand down from touching the edge of the frame.

When he says nothing you clear your throat, “Thank you.”

He turned towards you, sticking his hands in his pockets, humming in acknowledgement.

“I’ll format all the recordings and photos for the—.”

He cut you off. “You looked happy here.” He pointed to the photo next to the one he was touching. It was of you and a few friends at the beach. It was taken the last year of college.

You smirked. “Hey, I know how to have fun. I’m not all business.”

He smirked, “Would’ve fooled me.” You knew he was poking fun. This time you enjoyed it. Turning to you. “You even turned our night off into a work night, at a club no less.”

You couldn’t argue there, in steading biting your bottom of your lip. He follow the motion before looking up. Clearing your throat you changed the subject. “He said that I was his mate.”

His whole body stiffened. “Impossible.” He crossed the room closer to you, just stopping a foot away.

You looked up at him, the sudden hostility throwing you off. He scanned you over once more. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t touch you?”

“No.” You fought off the blush that threatened to rise to your cheeks. The attentiveness he was giving you was doing things to your heart that you promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen again. You flush suddenly remembering how soft his lips feel.

Nodding seemingly distracted with his thoughts. “I’ll look into that.” He began making his way towards the door and you followed. He stood outside your doorway.

He hesitated before nodding, as if he had contemplated something. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You returned the words in a soft whisper.

He began walking away towards his car.

“Jin.”

He turned around.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

He paused, his face clearly. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when a smile, an expression you haven’t seen on him. Jin looked like his old self. “I just went where the wild things are. I knew I’d find you there.”

You laughed, “I hate you.”

A smirk came back to his lips. “Don’t go soft on me now, Y/n.”

You watched him slip into his car before going inside. Alone with yourself you felt unsettled. Lately, it had been happening more. You chalked it up to being stressed, but stress was a constant in your life. This emotion was blaringly obvious to you, but you didn’t understand. Why did him leaving leave a hint of sadness.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, totally. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Logan pulled a face saying he wasn’t convinced. The others had already gathered their stuff and were heading towards the elevators. Yoongi suddenly threw his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

You couldn’t help but smile biting back laughter. Yoongi was a man of few words, but he always knew when to insert himself.

You turn back to your desk when they’re out of sight. In all truth you didn’t want to go. You wanted peace, and despite wanting to follow the social cues it was the last thing you needed right now.

Accompanied by the lone light from your desk, the silence of the office greets you in full embrace. The electronic whorl of central air kicking on. You busy yourself with “last-minute” paperwork you had purposefully withheld on doing, knowing this celebrating was coming. The case had gone incredibly well, it was easy to prove the divorce with your added evidence. It was set to go to secondarily trial within the kind’s court. You just needed to give yourself enough time to know they were out of the building and you could go home.

“Y/n?”

You looked over your shoulder. Seokjin stood there, you could see wear of the day on him but it somehow painted him like oil paint. His hair was disheveled, and the top buttons of his white button up were undone.

“I forgot my wallet.”

You hum. It’s a bit awkward. Watching him round the desk to his in silence. Ever since you had turned in the case over to Yoongi, you had distanced yourself from him. There had been no incentive to not go because of him. It had been a looming idea over your head though that after this you weren’t going to be seeing him.

He held up his wallet, “Found it.”

“You found it.”

He swallowed tucking it in his pocket. He rounded the desk standing just near yours. His hand was clenched in a fist, words on the tip of his tounge.

“Well, it was great working with you Y/n.”

Standing up you extend out your hand. Staring at it for a moment his eyes soften taking yours in his.

“The truce was sufficient after all.” He joked.

“Don’t get too soft on me now.” You joked back.

He smiled. The handshake had long outlived itself, but you still held his and he held yours.

“Well, this is goodbye.” When you tried letting go his grip tightened. “Jin?”

“I can’t. I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“Pretending I’m okay with you walking out of my life again. Pretending that I’m not effected by you. I can’t. I can’t handle it for the second time.”

His logic was flawed. You didn’t allow your heart to pick up pace, fall into his words. “What do you mean? You said you didn’t need me.”

“I lied. I never meant what I said then. I never wanted to hurt you or push you away.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, looking for signs of deception but couldn’t find it. “Then, why did you?”

“I couldn’t control it, I couldn’t control my wolf. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Jin, you wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“No, I would have. I couldn’t control it back then, the urges were too intense. I’m weak when it comes to you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do though. I was weak, and whenever you would come near me it became harder to control. The night I found you I couldn’t think straight. Now though, I can’t deny it anymore, I know what I want. And I want you.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you have a mate, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well don’t you?”

“I’m not seeing anyone or have claimed anyone—yet.”

You pausing looking at his distraught face.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His touches were romantic.

“Well I still don’t see what this conversation has to do with me.” , “Look, I’m not here to get mixed up in whatever.”

“Are you really that oblivious? Do you really not see it?”

“See what?”

He groaned rubbing his hands over his face. “Y/N, you’re killing me here.”

“It’s you. You are my mate.”

Everything froze around you.

Your hands trailed up his chest to wrap around his neck.

“My mate.”

“What?” You freeze. Attempting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together none of it makes sense to you. “You said so yourself humans can’t be mates.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. You aren’t bound by the same instincts or rules that I am. I was worried, I thought it was only me who felt something. But it’s you, always has been.”

He pulled you closer, and you didn’t fight him.

“Please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to know. Do you feel the same?”

You swallowed hard. “I do.”

His body melted. “Do you mean that?”

You rolled your eyes. Your hands were around his neck, pulling him down and your lips crashing onto his even before he could finish that sentence. The sudden softness in the midst of the charged tension had you even more sure that you wanted this. The electricity just a kiss from him confirmed it all. You did feel the same way, have for a long time. He reciprocated gripping the sides of your waist and lips moving in tandem with yours. All the built-up tension from before exploded as your tongue brushing against his.

You push him away needing to breath. Tucking his head into your neck he presses kisses into your skin not wanting to part from you. “Why were you so worried? Didn’t you know that I was your mate before?”

“No, we can only begin to find our mates after we’ve fully shifted.“

Finding a place between your neck and collar he nipped at the flesh causing you to moan and shiver. Appreciating the sound he dug his hand deeper into your hair angling your head so he could access it better. “I knew it was you for sure after I shifted, but you were human and I didn’t understand. I had always been told that a mate couldn’t be human. But its been you all along. My elders had tried to talk me out of it, they had tried to keep me away from you. It didn’t help that I had so much to learn after shifting. It didn’t change anything, I kept looking for you. From the first time I found myself in your closet, I was too young to understand destiny, but its always been you.”

You didn’t realize how much you wanted to hear those words from him until he admitted it.

“Why? Why were you so mean.”

“I couldn’t get your attention otherwise.”

You giggled into eachother mouth. “Dumbass, all of this could have been avoided.”

He pinched at your side causing you to shriek.

“Let me take you home.” His voice is low and sweet, and drips like honey.

It takes a second to register what he said, awestruck by how much the words feel common place. “Okay.”

He chases your lips before pulling you along with him. “Wait! I need to get my stuff.”

You laugh at the whine that comes form him as you collect your things form your desk. When you turn around he has his hand extended and you tangle your hand in his. You can’t get the smile off your face. The next movements are rushed as you find yourself in his car. His hand tangles back in yours as soon as he’s in the drivers’ seat.

It takes all about fifteen minutes to get to Jin’s apartment. The moments in between getting there were filled with tension as his hand no longer was just content holding yours but clenching over your thigh and kneading the flesh. Upon reaching his unit he fumbled with the code for a few seconds. When he finally had you inside he pressed himself to you. He no longer appeared to be completely human. His fangs were extended, eyes gleaming red, and he at you like a man starved. He rolls his hips to your center, letting you feel the evidence of his erection tight against his slacks. “Tell me what you want. Anything you want, you can have it.”

“Jin.” You moaned at the feeling of him pressed against your center. You wanted all of him, but you didn’t know how to voice it all. You wanted to feel his weight on top of you, feel him within you and to hold him against you. You wanted more than just that though, but words felt unfulfilling besides his name.

“You really don’t realize what you do to me.” He grabbed under your thighs lifting you up so that your legs rested over his arms while he supported you against the wall. He grinded into you again, his hot breath fanning over your face before he sloppily kissed you.

“You turn me into a beast.”

He shifted so that your legs were wrapped around his waist and he held onto you tightly as he moved towards his bedroom. It all happens so quickly. You were pressed down on his bed with him hovering over you. He tugged at your shirt silently asking for permission to remove it which you give him happily. He pulled it off you delicately, as if you were an art piece he was afraid of breaking. He reached behind you an unhook your bra, tossing it.

He stared for a few moments. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest but he stopped you.

“Beautiful.” He swallowed harshly. He leans down trailing his nose along your sternum before nuzzling at your breast. His hand trailed up the side of your body before reaching your breast and kneading the flesh. His thumb traces over your nipple until they pebbled. With the other his mouth sucked marked into your flesh before taking your nipple into his mouth. You release soft gasp at the gentle pleasure. He switched showering each breast with kisses and small bites until they were both marked.

He propped himself up as he moved his mouth down from your chest to your stomach, caressing your sides. He moved until he was nestled between your legs. Sitting back on his heels he reaches for the waistband of your skirt again asking for permission. Intoxicated on the feeling you nod at him lazily. He pulled it down landing somewhere with your other clothes.

He spread your legs wider fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet that the fabric of your panties stuck to you. Using the slick he traced his finger over your slit, focusing on your clit. Your back arched off the bed, bowing towards the ceiling. It was a simple touch, but you were hypersensitive to his touch. With his face between your legs he looks deliriously in bliss.

The dichotomy of his nature made him an anomaly. He was domineering but tender in each of his approaches. Each motion was made with love, but eagerness to feel you. No partner you’ve had before had been so attentive, trekking your body as it was meant to be explored and learned.

“Shit, Y/n, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

You gasped his name when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clit. He chuckled, “Is my name the only thing you can say now?”

You flushed, “Stop teasing me.”

He pressed a kiss to your knee soothing the teasing.

“Fuck, you smell so ready for me.”

“Please.” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Just a taste, please.”

You nodded threading your hands through his hair. He hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down tossing them somewhere in the room. Yanking you forward and closer to him he spreads your legs for him putting you on full display. Kissing up your thighs moving closer to your center. When he places a kiss on your mound before he begins to gently. He sighed against your folds. “Delicious.”

He taste you longer than just a sample as he buries his head between your legs. The sounds of your moans and mewls awaken the cavernous part of him. He growled, the sound sending shivers down your spine and making you even wetter.

“Jin!” you gasp, as he eats you out. When he pushes a finger inside you can’t help but tighten your grip on his hair. It felt so good, the stretch was sending your sensitivity to overdrive. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex with someone, but your cunt was accepting his finger easily. He worked you up and slipped another finger inside you, the stretch causing you to screw your eyes shut. Letting out a pained cry of pleasure and a bit of sting from the stretch.

“Doing so good for me Y/n.” His fingers moved to spread you open, to let him in. He watched you from between your legs as he increased his pace when he felt you relax a bit around him.

He was driving you crazy, the sounds he was admitting as if he was enjoying it more than you was such a turn on. No one had ever made you feel this way, as if he wasn’t just touching your body but your soul. Your pressing your hips upwards, feeling your end coming near. Your pussy clenches around his finger when he keeps stroking that one spot within you. In combination with his lips on your clit and him finger fucking, you had never felt so much pleasure before.

“I’m—.” Your body tenses and you can feel yourself just on the edge.

“Come for me.” His words commanded you and like a band you snapped. Your walls pulsed around his finger as he kept you through your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. When he seems your release dripping down from your entrance he leaned down licking it up. He pressed his tongue inside you. The action surprising and jerk, but you couldn’t move away. His tongue moved languidly and rhythmically within you until he was content. He continued to lap of your sweet release until you pushed him away.

He crawled over you. “So good for me. Fate couldn’t have chosen a better mate.” His words were possessive but you didn’t mind it. The word mate fell off his lips so easily.

You came down from the high gradually, chest heaving, and eyes

You see that he was still hesitant to let it through. You reached up cupping his face, gently tracing your thumb. “Let go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your collarbone.

Your fingers make quick work of his shirt. You pause to admire his broad chest. It had been .

He grabs your hand before you reach for the button of his pants.

“Do you really know what this means. Know what I mean when I say you’re my mate and want you?”

“Yes, mark me. Claim me. I want you. I want all of you.”

“Even if it means forever?”

“yes.”

He allows you to undress the rest of him, he kicks off his pants and underwear and he’s completely bare before you.

His endowment makes your thighs clench. His cock was hard, thick and throbbing, the tip ozzing.

Coming down to his elbows he fits himself snuggly between your thighs, cock brushing your pussy. He reaches between you gathering your slick before spreading it over his cock. He teases your pussy by teasing your entrance, and with your slick he coats his cock with it.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum y/n. Knot you so none of it spills out.” He rubbed your hips. “You’d look so beautiful swollen with my pups.”

You couldn’t help but tremble, excitement filling your veins. You wanted to be sated, to feel him inside you already.

“I want it Jin.”

‘Anything for you, my love.”

That was the last warning you got before he was pressing into you. He watched your face as he filled with you with this thick length. You cried out, as you fisted the sheet under you. “Oh my god.”

His grip tightened on your hips enough you were sure they were going to bruise later. He was trembling just as much as you were. Slowly sinking in you he pumped until he was full seated inside you.

“Holy shit, this is way better than I’ve ever imagined.” He paused allowing you to adjust to his size.

When you shifted against him he took it as a cue to finally move. He pulled out almost the full way before he was sliding back in slowly. It drew out a choked moan from the both of you. His length dragged against your walls hitting that spot each time.

“Harder, please, harder!” You cried out. You trusted him enough to know he would keep his strength in check. You knew he could crush you, as lifting you earlier seemed like nothing to him.

The pace was gentle until he picked up a merciless pace. Each powerful thrust pushed him in deeper to you. You were quickly unraveling approaching your second orgasm in record time. The sensation of everything was addicting as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Tears built in the corner of your eyes.

He mouthed at your neck murmuring, “My mate. My sweet little mate, so good for me. Taking me so well.”

Nearing your orgasm you began trembling in his embrace. “Come again for me, my love. Give it to me.”

You clenched around him, shattering around his cock and in the same moment he sunk his fangs sunk in between your neck and shoulder. The pain meshed with the pleasure into an addictive eliquer that flooded your system.

He kept going. “Too much Jin!”

Licking clean the marking he pulled away from your neck. He pressed your legs up into your chest. He could see his cock going in and out of your swollen lips. He kept pounding into you, somehow reaching deeper into you. “I’m going to fill you up, love. Do you want it baby?”

You nodded. “Give it to me.” Tears were spilling form your eyes from the overstimulation.

With a final slam of his hips his length swelled inside you spilling his seed within you. When you expected it to end his length was still swelling at the base.

“Jin, what’s happening?” Your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Shhh, baby, its okay.” His mouth slipped back over to your neck, kissing over the fresh mark. He peppered you with affection as his hands soothed your flesh. He relaxed your legs until they wrapped around his waist holding you close.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore the knot stopped swelling. You heaved, panting slightly from the painful stretch.

“You did so well.”

You smiled, pulling him to your lips to kiss. The way he was looking at you as if you were his world had you reaching up to cover your face.

“What just happened?”

He stilled, “Do you regret it?”

You pulled your hands away form his face. “No, no, no.” He easily succumbs when you pull him closer to you. You rub your nose against his back and forth, wanting to return the affection. “It was perfect.”

He flushed crimson.

You spend hours after within eachothers embrace, even when his knot swelled down. You talked, whispered words of affection to eachother and fell into eachothers embrace again. Like the first time his touch is gentle, he praises the moon for bringing him to you. He leaves no part of you untouched, and you his.

You feel at home for the first time in a long time.

When the sun rises, you wake in his arms, head in the crook of his neck, as he held you tightly to his chest. Bodies still bare, you both felt there was no need to cover, he had his hand over your hip. Breathing in the scent of him and . The silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The sound of his heartbeat in your ear was calming.

Slowly pulling away from his neck you reach up and caress his face. With your thumb you trace under his eye and cheek with a butterflies touch.

“I love you.”

He smiles. “No. I’m supposed to say it first.”

You quirk a brow at him. “Who says so?”

He opened his eyes, the trails of sleep still evident. “I do. I love you, always have.” He captures your lips in his.

“You stayed.”

You pulled away. “Of course, I would.”

He smiled. “I know, but to have you here. In my bed. Next to me. It all seems like I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy, you dork.”

“But you like it.”

Giggling as he peppers kisses all over your face you manage to worm out of his embrace. You jump out of bed. Taking his dress shirt from off the floor you toss it over yourself buttoning up a few buttons. “Don’t sour the sweetness too soon, wolf boy.” You let the last word roll but with no real malice. You know the word will rile him up.

From the bed he watched you. He had never seen anyone more beautiful. You had his heart that was for sure. He tossed the blanket off of himself chasing after you. “You take that back.”

You giggled running down his hall and out of sight with him chasing right behind you.

Even after the wildest journey, some things in life, like home, just won’t change.

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