#“so when you two do whatever it is you do I will be your advisor because you are so young. and I will give it back.”

[vanhelsingapologist]

killing his dad went fine.

spoilers in tags!

[collieii]

someone probably said this already but in spiderverse i think it's interesting how when pavitr was first introduced everyone thought something bad was gonna happen to him bc of how confident and optimistic he was. and then in the actual movie we see that something bad was supposed to happen to him (police chief dying!) but it doesn't! miles stops it! and miguel berates miles for this, says it's going to cause the universe to collapse or whatever.

there's this idea that tragedy is inherent to spidermans growth, and while it's true that some spiderpeople learn important lessons through loss, no one stops to ask, is it really necessary? yeah, maybe the chief was supposed to die. but why does spiderman have to be formed through tragedy? why do we (as heroes) have to let people die? pavitr didn't lose anyone, and he's still a good spiderman! maybe, if he doesn't suffer, he'll end up better off for it!

so while miguel is arguing for all this big picture stuff about saving the multiverse he's lost sight of what it really means to be a spiderman, he's not looking out for the real individual people. yeah it's just one person who would die, but that one person means something to someone. shrugging and saying "stuff just sucks sometimes, we can't do anything about it" is the opposite of what superheroes do. pretty obviously, miles arc is also a reflection of the struggles people face in real life, working within unequal systems, where it's easy to shrug and say "that's just the way it is" and not ask "but why does it need be this way? can't we do something about it?"

miguel is arguing that you can't have your cake and eat it too. presumably, miles and co. are going to find a way to get around that and change things for the better (and maybe that's why miles has that line about two cakes in the advisors office!)

[mellosdrawings]

I need to know!!

I have no idea if you've already done this but I need to know what Jamil and Kalim's dynamic is in the 10 years in the future thing. How is Kalim doing? Did he get married? To who? What is he up to?

Than you!

(Jamil's phone background pic)

KALIM! Oh dear, I have a lot to say.

First I'm gonna tackle the marriage status subject. I... actually don't ship Kalim with many other characters so I haven't bothered to think about a potential partner. I know the Ruggie/Kalim/Silver is a popular ship or something. Just imagine whoever you want with him, I'll leave that side of the story to your imagination.

Now, for his overall situation! Here's how I see it:

After a handful of years learning under his father, Kalim became the head of House Asim while his father enjoyed early retirement. One of his first decisions was, if not to completely free his servants, then at least to offer them more freedom (that's how Jamil still managed to secure himself some holidays to spend with Leona and Vil). That's also how Najma ended up being able to aim for college and study both tradings and politics. After Jamil leaves to be with his now husbands, Kalim revises his close circle of advisors/investors/whatever other powerful people he'd have by his side, and asks Najma to become his advisor.

Not bodyguard. Not servant. Not food taster. Advisor.

Because he knows he still tends to be too kind or thoughtless and he needs someone as ruthless as Jamil at his side. Jamil has left, so he asks Najma who is studying precisely for the things he needs. She happily accepts.

As for Kalim and Jamil's relationship, it was still tense for years after NRC. They both tried to make their relationship better but their situation wasn't helping at all. Once Jamil was gone with his husbands though, it became better fast. The power imbalance gone and Kalim treating Jamil's family very fairly, even giving such a high position to Najma, they managed to talk things out and start their friendship anew.

Kalim still regularly calls Jamil for advices, so does Najma since he has a lot more experience with Kalim. With Jamil's new status as Ambassador, he's also often in contact with Kalim for events or future deals between House Asim and Sunset Savanna.

The first few times they reunited after Jamil left, it was very awkward. Kalim wasn't sure how to act with Jamil anymore, if he even wanted to talk to him at all or have a drink together or hug it out. And Jamil had a hard time transitioning from servant to prince, so seeing Kalim again made him mentally backtrack several times. Eventually though they worked it out. When either of them is invited by the other, they first spend an awfully long time just hugging until they are both satisfied. They regularly spend time just the two of them to drink and catch up, gossip about whatever latest nonsense happened in their respective palaces, play Mancala, etc etc

When they have to part ways they hug for just as long. Eventually everyone gets used to it and adds a good fifteen minutes to the plannings so those two can take their time.

[augustinewrites]

a/n: bcs childe would absolutely benefit from dating a lawyer (also a repost from one of my other accs!)

“finally!” childe exclaims, fist-pumping the air as he hops to his feet. “i was starting to think you’d all forgotten about me.”

tartaglia aka the eleventh harbinger aka childe had been the subject of multiple meetings you’d attended in the last few days. with him finally in custody, immunity void, everyone wanted their pound of flesh.

you roll your eyes, nodding your head for the guards to open the cell. “you’ve only been in holding for three hours.”

“three very long, very boring hours.” he briefly stretches his arms above his head, rocking on the balls of his feet as he blinks down at you. “so i take it you’re my lawyer?”

“that's correct,” you confirm, telling him your name and stepping back as the guard cuffs his hands, shoving him forward as his partner leads the two of you down the hall. you pretend not to notice as the harbinger studies the manacles, smirking as if he’s already figured a way out of them.

normally, you preferred to stay as far away as possible from the fatui— especially one as dangerous as a harbinger. as the liyue qixing’s main legal advisor, you’d already had a handful of run-ins with the snezhnayan “diplomats,” as they called themselves. while pantalone hadn’t been as cutthroat as childe in the literal sense, his wit and business savvy were just as fearsome.

yet here you were, actually representing a harbinger in court. a major conflict of interest, yes, concerning your current affiliation, but with the harbor temporarily closed for travel and public defenders up to their knees in (fatui) clients, they’d had no choice but to have you take him on as a temporary client.

a gesture of goodwill, lady ningguang had called it. so her majesty knows we gave him a fighting chance in court. our best for her best.

so yes, there was that, and there was the fact that no one else wanted to represent him.

you’re led into the interrogation room, childe moving to pull your chair out for you. “c’mon,” he urges when you hesitate, setting your bag on the table. “i may be a criminal, but my mother taught me my manners.”

you pull out the chair next to it, sitting down and leveling him with a stern look. “pulling out a chair does not cancel out the multiple felonies you’re about to be charged with.”

“please,” he laughs, taking a seat himself when you opt to drag another chair to the table. “you’re giving me way too much credit, babe. i only committed maybe one or two.”

—

“gross negligence, disorderly conduct, destruction of property–”

childe clears his throat loudly, ignoring the glare you send his way. the one that says i told you so.“technically it was lady ningguang that threw the jade chamber at osial, not me. i wasn’t even there.”

the butt of xiao's weapon hitting the floor makes a terrifying sound. that's all it takes to silence the harbinger as ganyu turns the page.

“–desecration, assault, and attempted murder. these are the charges that can be brought against your client by the liyue qixing and the liyue adepti.”

childe pushes out of his seat, slamming his palms onto the table. “attempted murder?”

“please sit down,” you urge, but your attempt to placate him is unsuccessful as he shakes off your hand. “you haven’t been found guilty yet–”

“that makes me sound weak. i got way farther than just an attempt!” he exclaims, ignoring you completely.

“archons, help me,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the heavens for strength. “ganyu,” you interrupt before your client can further incriminate himself, yanking his arm until he sits back down. “could i please have a moment alone with my client?”

“i will give you one minute,” she agrees, but while she turns to leave, xiao remains stubbornly rooted in place.

you smile sweetly at the adeptus. “xiao, if you hear me scream, you can come in here and do whatever you want to him.”

the adeptus chuckles at that (albeit very slightly) as he flashes out of the room, and childe makes an offended noise. "hey, aren’t you my lawyer? you’re supposed to be protecting me!”

your sweet smile immediately drops from your face. “i'm only here because of your right to an attorney, and because almost all of liyue harbor’s public defenders are busy representing your subordinates. ganyu only agreed to meet with us before your arraignment because she owes me a favour, so be nice.”

“well, you’re all wasting your time,” childe shrugs, alarmingly calm for someone in his position. “because i’m a snezhnayan diplomat. i have rights!”

“do you?”

“uh…i think i have rights?”

“you had rights,” you correct sharply. "you forfeited diplomatic immunity the second you decided to commit multiple, very serious criminal offences. so shut up and stop incriminating yourself further so i can do my job.”

“and you could argue that i was just doing mine,” he quips, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. “hey, how long do you think it’d take me to break out of a prison here? ‘cause i’m thinking a week at most.”

cocky bastard.

rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to never agree to represent a fatui harbinger again, even if the pay is as good as it is. “are you really looking to add felony escape to your rap sheet?”

he winks, and you question all your life decisions. “it's only felony escape if i get caught.”

“you will get caught,” you deadpan. “do you seriously think that xiao or the other adepti will let you live if they see you in anyplace but a jail cell?”

“so what? i can fight.”

they might as well convict him now.

you send him one last warning glare as ganyu and xiao return, the latter looking more disgruntled than usual as ganyu says,

“the charges against you have been dropped.”

both you and your client are silent for a moment, because—

“what?”

“holy shit,” childe exhales, nudging your shoulder with his. “you're pretty good.”

you are good, yes, but not this good. “ganyu—”

she holds up a hand. “mr. zhongli sends his regards. you'll be compensated at double your current rate for your time.”

that shuts you up, and the room falls silent at the consultant’s name.

(you wonder if childe knows. it was his purpose, wasn’t it? to draw rex lapis out and steal the gnosis.)

the awkward silence is broken when xiao clears his throat. “while it’s been maintained that the charges be dropped, the qixing and adepti agree that community service and a hefty fine shall suffice in place of a conviction.”

“sounds fair to me,” you agree, because there’s really no better deal than this. you take the contract that the adepti hand you, giving it a quick read before sliding it over to your client. “mr. tartaglia?”

childe simply hands his cuffs to a stunned guard next to him, grinning as he takes the quill from your hand. “where do i sign?”

__________

the relatively peaceful stroll back to your condo is interrupted by the sound of quick footfalls behind you. you don’t have to turn around to know it’s childe, here to make your night even harder.

“don’t you have a community to serve?”

childe bounds up next to you, an annoyingly pretty smile curling on his lips. "can’t i start with taking a pretty lawyer to dinner?”

you hope the heat you feel creeping up your neck stays hidden by your shirt collar. “it’s two in the morning.”

he grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, right. how about a drink then? i know the owner at third-round knockout.”

your pace slows as you glance toward chihu rock. the idea of going home to have a nice, long soak in the tub tugged at you, but you could use a strong glass of, well, anything after this absolute shitshow of a week.

“alright, fine,” you agree tiredly (partly because he doesn’t seem like the type to take ‘no’ as an answer). “just one drink, tartaglia, and only if you’re paying.”

_____

childe liked to watch people.

not in that way, mind you. bold and battle-hungry as he may be at times, he had always preferred silence, and by proxy, silent observation. he was never one for the long-game, but sometimes sitting back to watch and listen to those around him simply proved more beneficial. it was fun to see how people reacted to certain things, especially if the catalyst was an event he’d manipulated.

his people-watching made him an expert at reading between the lines to discern one’s true nature. he tries to apply it here, sitting with you. he doesn’t sense anything particularly hostile (other than your understandable passive aggressiveness), but your silence is heavy with distrust, and the slight the crease between your brows is marring your pretty face.

you’re hiding something. or maybe you think you are.

“stop staring at me,” you mutter without so much as a glance in his direction, the corners of your lips downturned as you sip from your glass.

undeterred, childe leans in, amused when you immediately lean away. clearly you have a good sense of self-preservation. “i’m not staring. i’m…gazing.”

“well, stop,” you warn. “it's creepy.”

a grin curls on his lips. “you like it.”

the noncommittal noise you make isn’t a ‘no,’ so childe decides to take that as a win.

“so…” he starts slowly, a finger tracing the rim of his glass. you’ve had three glasses of liquor by now, definitely not enough to warm you up to him, but hopefully enough that you’ll accidentally tell him what he wants to know in an effort to prove him wrong. “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

instead of answering, you immediately pivot with, “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

“work,” he replies with a click of his tongue. “how does a lawyer become acquainted with a funeral parlour consultant?”

“how does a harbinger become acquainted with one?”

the smartass answer would simply be to gesture to himself. death was his business, his trade, his currency— just like a funeral consultant's.

but he has a feeling the smartass answer won’t earn him more than a smack upside the head so instead he settles for, “like i said, work.”

whatever you mutter under your breath is accompanied by a roll of your eyes, so childe guesses it’s an insult. he scoots his seat closer to yours anyway. “you're from around here. what do you know about him?”

“that depends,” you shrug, swirling the amber liquid around in your glass. “i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what you know.”

“and i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what it is you know."

"hm. then i guess neither of us will know what the other knows.”

childe knows that you know (he doesn’t really, but he has a very strong feeling that you do). he doesn’t even really care if you’ll admit it or not. he just wants to find your line and see what it’ll take to get you to cross it.

which brings him to his next endeavor.

“anyway, are you single? if you are, then great! If you aren’t, i can definitely take ‘em.”

he’s not sure why you choke on your drink like you’re shocked.

“seriously, childe?” you ask, shaking your head slightly.

“why not?” he shrugs, gesturing to his mussed-up hair and scuffed clothes. “are you really saying you wouldn’t take a run at all this, given the chance?”

if looks could kill, you’d definitely be the one being charged with attempted murder. “i wouldn’t even take a walk at it."

something stirs in his frostbitten heart because, archons, you’re mean.

he’s so into it.

“i’ll grow on you eventually,” he assures you, surely almost losing a few fingers as he plays with a strand of your hair. “especially if you come work for me. i’ll double whatever the liyue qixing’s paying.”

he’d get pantalone to sign off on it somehow.

you wrinkle your nose with distaste. “work for the fatui?”

“no, no. you’ll have your hands full with just me. i commit so many felonies that you won’t have to take on another client ever,” he corrects, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. “and honestly? i don’t like to share.”

“not interested,” you say, and he laughs when you shove him away, downing the rest of your drink. “i’ll meet you tomorrow morning to get your community service hours sorted. goodnight, childe.”

all right, you're playing hard to get, childe thinks to himself as he turns back to his drink. but that's okay. the only thing more satisfying to him than catching his prey is the thrill of a good chase.

if you notice him flinch slightly when you pat this hand, you don’t notice, rising from your stool to leave. you can’t leave yet! he hasn’t weakened your defences with his wily charms and roguish good looks. “hey, wait—”

it's embarrassing how long it’d taken him to realize his hand had been stuck to the bar.

frozen to the bar, to be specific. it's even more embarrassing that he hadn’t noticed the cryo vision sitting just above the curve of your ass.

he stares at the ice cocooning his hand in genuine shock and awe. It’s crystal clear, free of any cloudy impurities. he’s from snezhnaya, he knows his ice. “this is— this is hard to do. you’re really good.”

he wonders, briefly, if you’re any good with a blade. he pictures it (fantasizes, actually), but quickly snuffs out the vision because he’s starting to get a little turned on.

but super hot, slightly homicidal guys must not be your type, judging from the way you brush off his compliment and turn on your heel, leaving him with a two-fingered salute.

“see you tomorrow, harbinger.”

he may not be your type right now, but, yeah, he’s definitely gonna change that.

a/n: if you found this on ao3 then congrats! you found my ao3. also if you made it to the end!! pls tell me what u think childe would do for community service in liyue LOL i would love to discuss

[star-sim]

you've got to be kitten me! ☆ jungwon yang

☆ class president! jungwon x troublemaker! fem! reader ☆ summary: jungwon yang, the stuck-up class president, had a secret: at night, he transformed into a cat. when you, the class's residential troublemaker (and one of the people that jungwon simply couldn't bring himself to understand), accidentally discovered his secret, jungwon found himself questioning his role in the school hierarchy. ☆ genre: fluff!!!! highschool! au, classmates to friends to lovers!!! very silly supernatural occurances, follows the asian school system btw, jungwon is lowk a loser and kinda assholey at the beginning ☆ warning(s)? this is very silly!! minor violence (toward animals) ☆ word count: 15.8k ☆ this isn't my usual writing style, or even my usual progression of events, but i was rlly inspired by those old shoujo animes so i tried to emulate certain features common in that genre! lmk what u think! btw it's not edited, i will go back and edit later but rn i'm j tired lol enjoy!

There were two things that Jungwon Yang hated:

Troublemakers, and teachers that talked too much.

Unfortunately, he was now sitting in a room with both types of people.

"You know why you're here right, [Name]?" 

[Name] [Last Name]. You were the class’s relentless troublemaker. He’d known you since elementary and middle school, and you’ve always been the same. Brusque, aggressive, and a little too happy to use your fists.

Jungwon and you were in the same year, and he was the class president. Currently, the class advisor, Jungwon, and you were seated in your shared homeroom class after school. 

Simply put, you've been causing trouble for the past few weeks, whether it be arguing with teachers or other classmates. Initially, the class advisor decided that although you were causing trouble, it was barely disruptive. 

Until today. When you punched a classmate, a guy named Jiho Jang, in the face.

You leaned back in your chair, rolling your eyes. Your gaze hardened, before you let out a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

As Class President, it was Jungwon's job to collaborate with the class advisor to enforce school rules and punish those that failed to adhere to them. His lips curled at your sheer lack of regard for anything around you. It was annoying how you broke every rule in the book, prancing around like you owned the place. Why was it so difficult to just not cause trouble?

"Jungwon, what do you think?"

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, "I think [Name] broke a rule—" you cocked a brow at him, but he ignored you, "By assaulting another student, she should be punished for it, shouldn't she?"

Being the Class President, Jungwon had learned to be well-spoken and level-headed, but sometimes, it was utterly difficult to keep a diplomatic attitude. Because although he disliked people that caused trouble, he disliked teachers that talked a lot just as much.

The class advisor went on talking for a few more minutes, using many words but truly saying nothing. Jungwon learned how to make it look like he was listening when he really wasn't, nodding his head and smiling mindlessly. 

God, just shut up, he wanted to blurt, but he caught himself.

Meanwhile, you clearly did not give a fuck. You looked at your nails, yawned, rolled your eyes, put your feet on the table. You even let out a very loud exasperated sigh. It was almost laughable the way you didn’t care, to the point that Jungwon almost caught himself letting out a laugh at your clear and abject expressiveness.

"Well, Jungwon, as class president," the advisor finally finished her long and drawn-out speech about school rules, "What do you think [Name]'s punishment should be?"

"Punishment?" It wasn't like Jungwon didn't punish people for breaking rules, but for him to punish someone directly felt so foreign to him. "Well, [Name] explained that she did what she did today in defense of another student, and there's evidence to back her up." Jungwon glanced at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "So, I think we should give her lunch detention for a week."

Jungwon disliked you. No, he disliked your behavior. But as the President, he was fair. You had thorough evidence to back you up, so he decided on a punishment that reflected on your circumstances.

Except, the advisor audibly reacted. "Ooh, I don't know about that."

Jungwon's brows furrowed. That was a more than reasonable punishment. "Why not?"

"None of the teachers are available to sit in for lunch detention this or next week," the advisor explained. "What about suspension for a week?"

Suspension wasn't even remotely similar to lunch detention! 

"No!" Jungwon blurted. When he realized his outburst, Jungwon felt his ears burn. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I feel like a suspension is too extreme of a punishment."

His eyes flickered over to you. 

You better thank me, he thought.

 "If it's possible, I don't mind administrating lunch detention this week and next week, since none of the teachers are available."

The class advisor stayed silent for a few moments, before collecting her papers in a neat stack, and shoving it into her desk. "Very well, then." She turned to you. "[Name], you will have lunch detention starting tomorrow. Jungwon will be administrating it."

Then, you were dismissed. Jungwon had to stay back for a few minutes to discuss other class plans with the advisor, before leaving himself. By the time Jungwon walked out of the school building, the sun was beginning to set. However, as he walked out into the school courtyard, he spotted you.

You stood alone under a plum blossom tree. The pink-yellow flowers, now beginning to blossom as winter flew by, were sprawled across the ground, and your shoes, covered in dirt from the early-spring rain, trampled all over them with little regard. As you always did.

And, before he knew it, Jungwon was walking toward you.

It was common courtesy, at least for him, to greet whoever he saw.

"[Name]!" he called out, lips moving faster than his mind. Your head whipped over to him, quirking a brow. 

"Hi?" you looked at him with suspicion.

He couldn't blame you. Jungwon and you were on completely different spectrums of the school social hierarchy. Jungwon was well-known with a clean reputation, and you were infamous at least and a delinquent at most. It wasn't like he had never interacted with you before, but those interactions were few and far between. 

"... Did you need something?" You almost looked irritated that he was talking to you. Were you incapable of at least pretending like you cared?

"I just, " Jungwon had to admit, your gaze was intimidating. He’d heard rumors of you beating up kids that tried to talk to you, and although they were a little ridiculous, Jungwon wanted to be cautious. But, when words came to mind, his wobbly lips formed a soft, forced, smile. "I just wanted to say, I thought it was cool that you punched Jiho today."

When you only stared at him incredulously, Jungwon continued.

"Like,  It was cool that you were trying to defend someone, and I thought that Jiho really deserved it," Jungwon added. "I'm sorry about the detention thing."

He was being partially truthful. Of course, Jiho had it coming. Anyone that picked on underclassmen were just shitty, but cool to use violence against him? Maybe not. It was the first word that came to his mind.

A few silent pulses passed, and Jungwon shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Thanks?" you said slowly, your expression painted with confusion— because why was the Class President praising you for assaulting someone? "Um, I don't think you need to apologize."

Jungwon nodded, his fake smile still painted across his cheeks, ready to spill more courteous words at you.

"You were just doing your job— Hey, are you okay?"

A sudden fuzzy feeling at the back of Jungwon’s head pierced through him. Almost like a switch had turned off inside him, Jungwon was suddenly wobbly on his feet, his eyes looking cloudy and dazed, rolling back in his head. 

"Hey, Jungwon—" you grabbed his arm to hold him upright, your brows crashing together. "Jungwon, are you okay?"

Jungwon's knees felt weak, his head full of static. When his eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, it was a dark, gray-blue mixed with orange.

Shit, he should have kept track of the time. For someone who prided himself for how responsible he was, Jungwon had to admit that he was a little stupid right now. As Jungwon slowly slipped out of consciousness, his mind raced. No, no, no. He did not want this to happen right now, not in front of you.

You freaked out, frantically holding onto him. Why was Jungwon Yang practically fainting on you?

All of a sudden, a big puff of smoke appeared. As you coughed, using your hand to wave away the smoke, you noticed that Jungwon's shoulders were no longer in his hands. In fact, his entire person disappeared from in front of you.

When the smoke cleared, Jungwon was no longer with you. Instead, there was just a pile of his clothes before your feet.

"Jungwon?" you asked, bewildered out of your mind. "Hey, Jungwon, what the fuck just"

Meow!

Did something just meow-

Meeeeowwww!

From under the pile of clothes, a small, black cat poked its head out. Your jaw dropped, panic overtaking your system.

The cat let out another meow, before it began inching toward you. Out of sheer panic, you took many steps back, letting out a small yelp of fear.

"Stay back, cat!" you cried.

Meeeeowwww! the cat meowed at you, only inching closer to you. Each step it took toward you, you stepped back, until your back was pressed against the tree. 

Who could blame you? Jungwon Yang just disappeared into thin air before your eyes, only to leave a cat! How could you not be afraid of that cat?

However, instead of killing you (or whatever you thought would happen if the cat got too close), the cat only pawed at your shoe. It let out another meow, but this time a much softer one. It continued to paw at your shoe, meowing profusely like it was trying to tell you something.

You watched it in disbelief.

You've seen many cats before, it wasn't like seeing a cat was some rarity to you. Just... where the hell did Jungwon go?

Experimentally, you reached out to touch the cat, only for it to jump away from you. You blinked at it. You and the cat stared at each other for a few moments, before it seemed to let out a small huff and stepped toward you. You reached out to it again, and this time, it didn’t jump away. You picked up the cat, holding up to your face so that it was at eye-level.

"Hey, kitty," you gently said, a small frown painting itself on your lips. You pet its soft, black fur, your fingers gracing its ears. Looking around, you bring the cat closer to your face. "Do you know where Jungwon went?"

Meow! was all you got in response, making you frown even more. You gently rubbed your thumb over its nose and soft, black fur.

"Did you take him, kitty?" you wondered, more to yourself than anything. When the cat only meowed, you couldn't help but crack a grin. You booped its nose, before cradling it in your arms. 

You glanced at the pile of Jungwon's clothes a few inches away from you. You looked around, for any sign of him or anyone at all, before sighing to yourself. You crouched down, placing the cat down, too. You neatly folded the pile of clothes, tucking it under your arm. You picked up the cat once more, scanned the courtyard, and started your way home.

Despite what a lot of people liked to think, you were actually gentle. But only sometimes. 

There were some perks to living alone, hundreds of miles away from your family. One of them was that you could bring home whatever animal you wanted, and no one could stop you.

On your way home from school, you decided that you'd keep the cat, whom you named Kong-ee (since its nose looked like a bean). How could you not? It was so tiny, and soft, and cute. Every time you rubbed its cheek, it let out a small meow. When you kissed it on the head, it started meowing profusely. It was so adorable!

If anyone at school saw you right now, they'd think they were dreaming.

You, that one mean and rough girl, playing with a little cat? You, not screaming and fighting every three seconds? Impossible!

You cracked a grin to yourself as you thought about the events that transpired earlier. Jiho Jang was picking on some underclassman, so you gave him a little nudge. When that didn't work, you punched him square in the nose. As you unlocked the door to your apartment, you thought back to how the school administrators reacted. For some reason, it felt like they favored Jiho over you, seeming to take his side before you even explained yourself.

You placed the cat down on your bed. 

"Stay here, okay, kitty?" you gently pet Kong-ee. The cat stared at you with its large, feline eyes, and you laughed, kissing its cheek. The high-pitched meow it let out was cute, so you booped its nose again. "I'm gonna go run you a bath, 'kay?"

As you set your things down to run the bath, you suddenly remembered your Class President, Jungwon Yang.

It seemed like among everyone involved in the situation, he was the only one that was fair. You appreciated him reiterating that fact that you were, in fact, acting in defense of another student, and you could tell that he was trying to give you a gentler punishment. However, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he disliked you. He had this weird attitude, one where he seemed to think of himself as superior to you. You could tell that he didn’t like you, probably because of your ‘troublemaker’ reputation.

Come to think of it, have you ever spoken to him? Sure, you went to the same elementary and middle school as him, but you swore that you've never really spoken to him. You still had no idea what happened to him earlier. He just randomly disappeared from the face of the earth. You still had his clothes, which you threw into the washing machine. 

You didn't think of him any more for the rest of the night.

"Kong-ee," you cooed as you poured warm water over the cat's head. For a cat, Kong-ee was very calm in water. You muttered to yourself, "So cute,"

After drying Kong-ee, you went to eat dinner, study, and at last, go to bed. 

You didn't have a bed for Kong-ee, and you didn't move a lot when you slept, so you just let the little cat lay on your chest. The warmth of the cat was like an extra blanket anyway.

Your eyes felt heavy, so you were fast asleep just minutes after your head hit the pillow.

Jungwon thought he was a pretty smart guy.

But right now, he was absolutely stupid.

He completely didn't take into account the fact that during winter, nighttime came much quicker. He was so distracted by school duties that he totally forgot his curse.

That's right. Curse.

About a week ago, Jungwon was hit with some curse, where every day, the moment that the sun began to set, he would transform into a cat. He'd only turn back to human when the sun rose the next morning. These past few days, Jungwon had been leveeing excuse after excuse about why he couldn't attend a certain event, or why his homework was done so quickly.

Yesterday, even when he should have been running home because he was literally about to transform into a cat, he decided to go talk to you instead. 

And now there he was, still in his cat form, laying on you, that one girl from class that couldn’t follow a rule to save her life.

As a cat last night, he decided that he’d escape out your window the moment you fell asleep. However, your apartment was many stories high, and he couldn’t fight off his feline instinct to snuggle up into something warm. So there he was, laying next to your sleeping face.

In his cat form, Jungwon could see your alarm clock. These days, sunrise was around 7AM, and it was 6:57. Just a few more minutes, and he should transform back into human. Hopefully, he won't wake you up.

Jungwon's plan was the moment that he transformed back into his human form, he would take his clothes (the one that you picked up and washed yesterday), and leave. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. Hopefully, you’d forget all about this, and his life would resume.

Meanwhile, Jungwon observed your sleeping face. It was weird. You usually had a scowl on your face, but your sleeping face was completely peaceful. He’d never seen you so… calm. In fact, last night was probably the most normal he’d ever seen you. Jungwon always kind of expected you to be rough with everything, but the way you treated him as a cat was almost… kind of nice? 

With his paw, Jungwon gently touched your face, a small meow escaping his mouth. Your lunch detention started today, so he’d have to spend his next few lunches stuck in a room with you. He dreaded it. He had other things he wanted to do, even though he was the one to suggest that he administrated–

Poof!

With a puff of smoke, Jungwon transformed back into his human form. Except, he was now naked, sprawled on top of you. 

Quickly, though with wobbly feet, he stumbled over to the clean folded stack of his clothes. 

Just as he was finished putting on his pants, reaching for his shirt, Jungwon heard a shrill scream.

He whipped his head around to see you, staring at him horrified.

Oh.

Shit.

The last thing you expected was to wake up to a shirtless Jungwon Yang in your room. 

"What the fuck are you—" you, still groggy, pulled your comforter over your shoulders, suddenly feeling exposed— "Jungwon, what the fuck? What are you doing here?!"

The boy only stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers, jaw dropped. It was only when you began throwing pillows and plushies at him that he began to get defensive.

"W-Wait, [Name]!" he staggered over to you, amidst the slew of pillows being projected at him. "[Name], let me explai— Ow!"

"Get out, Jungwon!" you shouted, hurling nearly every object on your bed at him. Simply for the reason that your Class President was literally half naked in your room, your face felt warm. With anger. "Get out, get out, get out— Oof!"

Behold, Jungwon tripped over one of the pillows as he floundered over to you, leading him to fall right on top of you on your bed.

A moment of thick silence engulfed your bedroom as the two of you stared at each other. Jungwon's cheeks flared. It was absolutely over for him now. 

With a rough, but flighty, hand, you pushed his chest off of you with a scowl. 

"Get off," you grumbled, shoving him again.

"Right..." Jungwon quickly pulled away from you. He sat at the edge of your bed, his head hanging low. His entire neck and face were red with embarrassment and shame. You probably thought he was a creep, a pervert, a weirdo! Would you tell people at school? He could already hear the rumors: “Class President Jungwon Yang is a freak!” 

"Well, aren't you going to explain yourself?" you nudged him harshly with your foot. You still covered yourself with your blanket, looking at him with the most hostility that he'd ever seen from you.

"Wait a minute," you muttered to yourself. You shifted around your bed, feeling around your comforter. "Where's Kong-ee?"

Jungwon let out a nervous laugh. 

"About that...."

(Long story short, you grabbed Jungwon by his shoulders, and said, "You're lucky that you were cute as a cat, because I was considering kicking your ass.")

Honestly, you thought Jungwon was a little weird, if not snobby. If you were asked how you felt about him a few hours ago, you would have said that he was a little self-important. But after the fiasco this morning, the only word you had to properly describe him was strange.

You supposed that you couldn't blame him. He didn't choose to be cursed into a cat, and he most definitely didn't choose for you to take him home. It was just a little embarrassing that the entire time, the cute cat that you were excited to take care of was just your Class President that probably hated you. It made you squirm a little bit.

After Jungwon gave you a (very thorough and evidence-based) explanation, you kicked him out and got ready for school as you always did.

When you got to school, you couldn't bring yourself to meet Jungwon's gaze, and luckily, it seemed like he couldn't either. You weren't shy, and you weren't the type to get actually flustered, but you felt a twinge of humiliation. 

Why, of all people, did it have to be the guy that you were spending your lunch detention with?

In fact, as you sat in lunch detention, there was a thick tension in the air. It was just you and Jungwon in an empty classroom, completely silent save for the sound of chattering and people talking from the other rooms down the hall. 

You were supposed to be doing homework, or something, but you preferred staring out the window. Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungwon sitting at the teacher desk, writing something out.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored. Normally, you were perfectly fine with getting lost in that head of yours, but for some reason, today all your thoughts were just... stale.

"Yah," you suddenly said, directed at Jungwon. The boy's head immediately shot up. "What are you doing right now?"

"Writing..." he answered curtly. His expression was awkward, very different from his usual composed face, the one that he used when he ordered people around. You tried not to show your discomfort on your face, but Jungwon was just an open book. 

"I'm bored."

He blinked at you owlishly, before narrowing his eyes. "Well, do you want a book?"

You groaned, leaning back against your chair and throwing your head back. If this was how lunch detention was going to be for the rest of the week, you'd die.

Jungwon watched you silently. He let out a sigh, before setting his pen down. He picked up the papers that he was just writing on, holding it up to his face so that he could read it. 

"Jungwoo and Sullyoon." You shot him a questioning look, and he continued. "Liz and Minji."

"What the hell are you saying?" you questioned.

Jungwon held up the papers; on them were elaborate charts with many columns. It was a list of some sort.

"It's the beginning of the month," Jungwon began. "I have to make a schedule for who's on cleaning duty."

You cocked a brow at him, making him continue.

"I might be the president, but I don't know a lot of our classmates well," the boy's feline-like eyes fluttered over to you. "I'm having trouble making the pairs. I don't know who gets along with who."

He stared at you for a few pulses, almost like he was asking you to help him. You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. You pulled a chair over to where Jungwon was sitting, plopping down. This was better than doing homework.

"All right then," you snatched the paper. You scanned the list, your nose crinkling at some of Jungwon's choices. "Why would you put Bae with Aran?"

Jungwon’s brows crashed together, just by the way you seemed so indignant about his choices. 

"I don't know," Jungwon shrugged, unable to hide the slight offense on his face. "I thought they were friends."

"Nah," you sucked in a sharp, exasperated breath. "Bae was trying to get with Aran's boyfriend, so Bae and her friends jumped her."

The way it came out so casually from your lips was almost laughable.

"Ouch."

"And why would you put Jihan and Rei together?"

"Why, are they not friends?"

"No, because Rei is friends with Liz, and Jihan hates Liz."

"Well, what about Rei and Hikaru?"

You groaned, punching Jungwon in the arm. "I'm actually gonna kick your ass."

Out of nowhere, completely out of character, Jungwon couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. There was something so laughable about you, of all people, knowing the business of your classmates, and not him, the literal president. It was almost ironic, the way you seemed to be so passionate about the ongoings of the classroom. He immediately clamped his hand over his mouth the moment you shot him a glare, but he was unable to swallow another laugh. 

"Yah, laugh again and I'll actually do it."

Jungwon let out another laugh. You grabbed his forearm, softly punching his shoulder again. The way your lips jutted out, the gloss on them shining under the light, was too much for Jungwon to handle. For someone so tough and violent, you looked so petulant, almost like a child, when you were angry. Your brows furrowing like caterpillars and the way your lips parted in offense was his favorite part.

You stood up abruptly, grabbing Jungwon's collar and pulling him up with you. Your lips pulled together in what could only be called a frown.

"You're so annoying," you grumbled, tightening your grip around his collar. "Kill yourself."

Jungwon's lips pulled upward to reveal his sharp canine teeth. 

"Sorry," he said with a smile. It was weird, the way that it was a genuine smile, as opposed to the fake one that he found himself giving out.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time that day, but you loosened your hold on his collar. When he let out another small laugh again, you raised your fist at him. It was supposed to be purely threatening, you weren't actually going to punch him. And Jungwon could tell, just by the look on your face.

But that was when the worst possible person walked into the detention room: the class advisor.

"[Name] [Last Name], are you trying to assault the Class President?!"

And that's how you got after school detention, too. Administrated by the one and only Class President himself.

"Look, [Name], I'm sorry—"

"It's whatever."

And it really was whatever.

No matter how many times Jungwon explained with the advisor and administrators, they all wouldn’t believe them. He clarified seemingly hundreds of times that you, in fact, were not trying to beat him up. Still, they wouldn’t listen. Because he was the president, they simply assumed that Jungwon was defending you to not cause trouble.

You appreciated his efforts, you really did. The way his face scrunched with frustration as he let out a deep, exasperated sigh was enough for you.

“It isn’t whatever,” Jungwon ran a hand through his dark locks, huffing. “It’s unfair.”

Now the two of you were back in that detention room. You were sitting down, bored, while Jungwon paced around. He couldn’t say that he liked you, but he couldn’t stand for something so utterly ridiculous.

"It's not a big deal," you seemed more unbothered than Jungwon was. When he looked at you with a pinched expression, you sighed. "I really mean it, it's not a big deal."

Jungwon chewed on his bottom lip pensively. "But they're not being fair."

You shrugged. "This isn't the first time that it's happened, you know."

When the boy frowned, you continued. "Sometimes, the administrative system is kinda fucked. It's just something we hafta accept."

Jungwon's nose scrunched, before he made his way over to where you were sitting. He stood at the edge of your desk before you, his fingers tapping anxiously. He studied your face: your expression was painted with sincere and utter indifference. You didn't care. But he did.

"I'm serious," you noticed the uneasiness on his face. "Just let it go, Jungwon."

"It's just..." he breathed, "I'm the President, aren't I supposed to be the one with a louder voice? Why won't they listen to me?"

You gazed at his face.

Jungwon Yang, the Class President. He’d always seemed snobby, but he was surprisingly earnest. There was an essence of naivete in him, a sort of innocence and optimism that you couldn't shake off. Jungwon was almost intense with the amount of conviction he had. 

"Well," you finally said. Under the desk, you tapped your shoe against his. "We can't do anything about it now."

You brusquely got up, moving toward the teacher desk.

"B-But—"

You plopped down on the teacher chair, kicking back. "Are you going to let me help you with your presidential duties or what? I’m bored."

You looked at him, dead serious. You gestured to the papers sprawled across the desk. 'Well, aren't you going to join me?'your expression read.

Jungwon finally exhaled.

He couldn't argue with you.

Because like him, your conviction was just as strong. You were realistic, too realistic that it was almost painful. But the intensity in your judgment was not to be challenged.

"Fine."

You never expected Jungwon's presidential duties to be so tedious. But what was surprisingly unsurprising was Jungwon's crazy amount of effort. Of course he put every ounce of his energy into perfecting the class calendar or the class seating arrangements. Although you did help him, there were a few moments of complete silence, as Jungwon sat in deep thought trying to figure out how to approach a certain issue. His zeal was almost freakish.

You let out a yawn. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Time?" Jungwon perked up, glancing out the window. Shit. It should be sunset soon. Why does he keep losing track of the time? He began shuffling his papers together, shoving them into his school bag. "Shiiiit, I have to go now."

"Man, I feel like I've never heard you swear—" Realization hit you. "Oh, right."

You helped him put his things away, but it was too late. Within seconds, a puff of smoke already engulfed the room, leaving a pile of clothes, and a tiny black cat.

You groaned. Not again.

"You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You decided that you'd take Jungwon home with you once again. As you laid on your back in your bed, you held his cat form up carefully, yet your words were harsh.

"God, you're so stupid, Jungwon," you scolded him. "Does this happen a lot? Where you don't keep track of time and just transform out of nowhere?"

Jungwon let out a small meow, hanging his furry head in shame. 

"Ughhh," you lamented. You gave the top of his head a small tap, equivalent to you hitting the back of his head if he was a human. "Do your parents know?"

Jungwon responded back with a bunch of meows, like he was trying to talk to you. 

"Whatever," you tapped his nose with your knuckle. Normally, you’d probably recoil at the thought of being this close to your Class President, but because he was a cat, you couldn’t help the desire to smother him with love. You held Jungwon's face close to yours. You rubbed your nose against his, cooing at the small meows he let out. You chuckled. "You're so much cuter as a cat, you know that right?"

Jungwon meowed, his short paws extending out to touch your face. You grinned, leaning into his touch. "You're so annoying at school. So annoying that I thought about punching you once. But I like you more as a cat."

Meeooowww!

"Have you eaten yet?" you brushed his fur back, rubbing the spot behind his ears, earning a purrrr. Jungwon shook his head. Then, you scratched his chin. "Can you even eat human food?" Jungwon shook his head again.

"Fine," you muttered, more to yourself. "I'll go buy you cat food."

The walk to the convenience store was quiet, save for your coos at Jungwon. On Jungwon's end, he was ecstatic. Each time you kissed his head or babbled back in response to his little meows, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. It was weird, so weird, to see you be so… gentle, and loving, and caring. It was like a flip switched the moment you stepped out of school. Weren’t you supposed to be a delinquent? Why were you so tender? He hated it, he hated it so much. But now you were peppering his face with kisses, and Jungwon couldn’t resist leaning into your warm touch.

"Which one do you want, Jungwon?" You took him through the aisles, letting his small, black paws dictate what you'd buy. 

"Are you serious? Salmon Gravy Poultry shreds?"

Jungwon meowed profusely, his paws flailing around almost offended. He couldn't control his feline cravings in his cat form! What did you expect him to choose, a Triple Dipple Mcdouble Wouble Hamburger?

You threw your head back, laughing at his cute frustration. You pinched Jungwon's nose, before going to the cash register.

That night, you sat with Jungwon wrapped in a blanket on your lap.

"You can still help me with my homework, right?" you said, petting Jungwon. 

Meoooowww! was his response (as always), but the way his feline eyes squeezes into thin crescents, his mouth turning upwards, told you his answer was a very enthusiastic "Yes!"

You and Jungwon came up with a system.

One meow was yes, two meows were no.

It was safe to say that Jungwon let out many double meows in succession.

"Maybe I was wrong," you grasped his little paws like they were his hands. "You're still annoying as a cat."

Meow!

You giggled, before turning off your lights. 

You gave Jungwon his own bed— a stack of pillows and blankets. You didn't want another incident, did you?

Oh. My. God.

It was past 7AM. The sun was up in the sky shining its yellow face so obnoxiously through the blinds.

However.

Jungwon was still a cat.

For the past week or so, he turned back into his human form the second the sun peeked through the clouds. But why not today? He had to figure this out before you woke up, or you might freak out, and that would make him freak out—

"Oh my god, Jungwon, why are you still a cat?!"

Long story short, you took him to school with you.

If Jungwon was a human, he would have refused profusely. Curse him and his tiny body, he had no way of refusing you.

And that's how Jungwon found himself stuffed in your pocket.

"Stop fussing!" you gently smacked the back of his head. "You're gonna get us caught!"

Meeowww! was all he could say. It was strange seeing the school through such a tiny lens. It didn't help that he felt like he was on a goddamn rollercoaster because for some reason, you decided to walk with a pep in your step today. 

"Where's Jungwon? He's normally not late like this," Wonyoung Jang, the class's secretary asked just as you walked in. After a round of "I don't know's" it seemed like everyone suddenly remembered what (allegedly) happened yesterday: you assaulted him.

"Hey, [Name], did you do something to him?" someone asked. You shot them a questioning look. You ignored them, taking your seat in the back, being careful to not crush Jungwon. 

"Yah, [Name]," one of the boys in your class (was his name Haruto, or something?) came up to your desk, slamming his hands down on your desk. "What did you do to Jungwon?"

You looked around the classroom— they had to be playing with you, right? Such a ridiculous accusation based on ridiculous evidence from the most ridiculous people.

"Uh. I didn't do anything...?" you answered sincerely, confusion strewn across your face.

"Hey, let's not lie, [Name]," Jinni, the class treasurer, smiled at you. "Just tell us the truth. What happened to Jungwon?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. 

"You were the last person to see him yesterday," one of your classmates pointed out. "Something's fishy."

"Well, I don't know what you guys want me to say," you scowled. "I'm sorry, I guess? It's not really my business what goes on with him."

Before another person could join in, and most definitely escalate the situation, the bell rang, starting class.

Meanwhile, Jungwon internally frowned. Why was everyone so quick to accuse you? Sure, you got into scuffles, but they were being baseless with their accusations. All you did was walk in, and you were bombarded with questions. While class went on, he let out a soft meow, using his paw to touch your hand.

"Jungwon, what do you want?" you whisper-yelled at him.

Jungwon couldn't imagine what it would be like to have everyone see you with suspicion. When the teachers didn't believe him earlier, it was frustrating. He never considered how you felt. Your quick resignation to the flawed administrative system was upsetting.

Almost like he was trying to comfort you, another small meow came from him, his paw petting your hand.

You smiled gently, bonking him softly on the head, before turning back to the board.

As the day went by, Jungwon caught a real glimpse of what it was like to live like you.

From the pocket of your sweater, he could see the nasty glares that people sent you, simply for being in the same room as them. The way that people would scurry away from you, cower under your gaze like you were some kind of monster. Jungwon didn't know how anyone could endure that for much of their high school career. The more he watched you from your pocket, the more he could see your hard exterior cracking. You were genuine in that you didn't like people that much, but he could tell by the way that your lips twitched slightly, eyebrows knitting together for a split second as you wistfully watched groups of friends giggle together. 

As lunchtime started, you slowly made your way to the detention room. That entire hall was mostly empty, probably because no one wanted to be near where you'd be. 

You reached inside your pocket, your knuckle brushing against Jungwon's ears.

"Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish you were human right now," you said quietly to him. Jungwon meowed, rubbing his cheek against your finger. "I’m gonna be so bored."

As you cracked the detention room door open, you were met with a group of boys.

Of course you knew them. Everyone liked to lump you in with them, as "bangers," but anyone that understood who they were knew that you were far from their friend.

While you just caused trouble occasionally, they were actual delinquents.

"Hey there, [Name]," one of them grinned at you. You stopped at the doorway, narrowing your eyes at them. They never talked to you unless they wanted trouble.

"What do you want, Gyuvin?" you huffed. Jungwon from your pocket peeked his head out.

"We don't want anything from you, [Name]," another of them, Ricky Shen, took a step forward toward you. The rest of the boys followed suit, pulling you into the classroom and surrounding you.

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. The way they were circling you certainly triggered your panic mode, but you swallowed it down, choosing to keep a hardened gaze instead. 

"Right," you nodded slowly. 

The next thing you knew, you were pushed to the ground with a yelp and thump! The way that the rest of them peered down at you condescendingly. You heard a small meow come from your pocket, so your hand shot to your pocket, your palm protectively cradling Jungwon.

"We're just bored, really," Gyuvin smiled, leaning down toward you. "Just wanted to see if this kitty bit back."

Silence enveloped the room as you glared up at them. You had to think fast. You honestly did not have the energy to put up a good fight right now, and you didn't want to. How could you evade this?

Your eyes shot around the room for some sort of escape. Unfortunately, there was only one: the door, and it was blocked by a few of the boys.

"Oh? What's that in your pocket?" It seemed like they noticed your hand clutching your pocket so firmly.

They yanked you up roughly by the arm, shoving their grubby hands into your pocket while others held your arms back.

"Hey!" you yelped, struggling against their grip. They're gonna find Jungwon!

Your worst fear came true. Gyuvin pulled out a thrashing Jungwon from your pocket. Even in his feline form, you could see the panic in his eyes. You tried to escape their grip, pulling away as hard as you could, but they overpowered you.

"What's this?" Gyuvin asked, a nasty grin on his face as he observed Jungwon.

"Give him back," you grumbled behind gritted teeth. You tried to pull away again, but it was no use. Gyuvin cocked a brow at you, before throwing Jungwon on the floor. Jungwon let out a small meow of pain, but as the boys approached him, he hissed loudly, his pupils dilated and his black fur standing up on his back. 

Ricky glanced at you, making sure that you were watching, when he landed a kick at Jungwon. 

"Jungwon!" you shouted, straining against the boys that held you back. 

"Fuck," you muttered to yourself. You didn't want to fight. Jesus Christ, the last thing you wanted to do right now was fight. But you could not stand for this. 

"Jungwon?" A smile was growing on Ricky's features. "Y'know, [Name], I thought that you murdered Mr. Class President or something. But it looks like you're obsessed with him more than anything."

Your hands balled into fists, biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood.

Assholes. That's what they all were.

It was Ricky's turn to land a kick on Jungwon.

That's when you had enough.

With all the force you could muster in your body, you stepped on the guys who held your foot. You didn't know how hard it was, but it was hard enough for them to loosen their grips on you, letting out cries. Your body was on overdrive now. The only thing you focused on was getting the fuck out of there.

"Yah, get her!"

You dashed to Jungwon, snatching him up and jamming him into your pocket. You flung the door open, but Ricky and Gyuvin grabbed both of your hands before you could make a run for it. Ricky pulled you in by the waist, so that you were flush against his chest, while Gyuvin pressed against you from the front.

"Let go of me," you protested. 

"Nuh-uh," Ricky whispered in your ear. 

"Why're you so resistant to us, [Name]?" Gyuvin rasped. "We just wanna be your friend."

Meanwhile, Jungwon, although injured, creeped out from your pocket. With them so close to you, it would be awfully easy for Jungwon to land a few claws on them. It wouldn't hurt to give them a few scratches, right?

With a loud hiss, Jungwon jumped out from your pocket, landing on Ricky's chest. With all the might that his small body could gather, Jungwon scratched the boy's chest with high-pitched shrieks. Almost immediately, Ricky stumbled backward, letting go of you. You took that opportunity to land the hardest kick you could to Gyuvin's crotch. Then, you plucked Jungwon up, and made a run for it.

You ran until you reached the girl's bathroom of the south building, far enough from Ricky and Gyuvin and their little henchmen. You took in shallow breaths, staggering into the bathroom. You held onto Jungwon tightly.

Finally, you dropped down to your knees, slumping against the wall. With a hiss, you observed the bruises on your wrists, where the boys had held you.

You took off your sweater, gently placing Jungwon on it.

He nuzzled his face against your leg, purring when you pet his head.

"Hey, Jungwon," your voice was quiet, the quietest that he'd ever heard. "You okay?"

Meow!

Your nimble fingers ran against his fur, and when you ended up on his side, Jungwon hissed. Upon closer inspection, that part of his abdomen was bruised from the earlier assault.

"I'm sorry, baby," you unconsciously used that name, your heart hurting for him. It must be horrible being so small and helpless. You tenderly caressed his face, with him leaning into your touch. "Does it hurt?"

Jungwon nodded. Although all the energy was sucked out of you from that scuffle alone, you jumped to your feet.

"The nurse's office is just down the hall," you said to him. "I'll go get some things, okay?"

Jungwon meowed to you as you left.

He'd never actually seen you fight anyone.

Were you harassed like this often? Was that why you were reported to be fighting people, when you were really just defending yourself? Why did people want to bother you so badly?

The pain in Jungwon's side was bearable, but the way you were so quick to get help was so admirable. 

In fact, all this time that he spent with you, you never looked to fight people. Instead, you were actually so eager to be helpful. How did you become known as the class's troublemaker when you actively avoided trouble? All you’ve been so far was kind to him.

Was he wrong about you?

Just as Jungwon was about to go on pondering...

Poof!

Jungwon coughed, and suddenly, he was human again.

But, like always, naked.

He scurried into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door.

"Jungwon?" you wandered back into the bathroom, unable to spot a little black cat. "Jungwon, where'd you go?"

When a deeper, masculine voice responded, you almost jumped out of your skin. "I'm... in the stalls."

"You turned back?!"

Jungwon felt his cheeks warm up. How was he going to explain this to you?

"Why are you in the stalls?"

Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm... uh.. naked right now."

.

.

.

"Oh."

"C-Can you please go get me clothes?"

When you came back with a set of male school uniform (that you stole from some kid's locker), you threw it over the stall door, a little flustered.

Jungwon finally came out of the stalls, an awkward expression on his face.

"Did the clothes fit right?" you asked. Granted, you thought you stole from the underclassmen, so the clothes you got him might be too small. "Are they too small?"

"No," Jungwon quickly answered. "They... They fit just fine."

He stared at you. "Thanks, by the way."

You blinked at him. "For what?"

"For everything you did for me back there," Jungwon took a deep breath. He still couldn't wrap his head around how your status as the class delinquent came to be. "You were really cool."

"Cool?" You raised a brow at him, but you couldn't hide the curve in your lips. "I thought it was pretty cool how you scratched Ricky."

Jungwon snorted. "That's nothing compared to the last-minute kick to Gyuvin's crotch."

You laughed, but clamped your hand over your mouth. 

"Sorry," you murmured.

"I mean it," Jungwon was looking at you with wide eyes. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "It was, like, straight out of a comic book."

"Right," you nodded slowly, the corners of your lips quirking up. You perched down next to him, pulling the first-aid kit you nicked from the nurse's office. You didn't know how Jungwon's cat-human curse translated injuries. That is, you didn't know if he'd have the same injuries he sustained as a cat in his human form. "D'you mind lifting up your shirt for me?"

Lift... up... his... shirt... for... you?

Jungwon choked on his spit, coughs spouting from his throat. As he coughed up a storm, a sharp pain in his abdomen pierced through him. He clutched his side, letting out a soft groan of pain.

"Shit," your fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, "You're bruised there, aren't you?"

You began to flip up his shirt to get a better look of his wound, but Jungwon quickly stopped you.

"W-Wait!" his cheeks flared. You gave him a weird look. "How am I going to get married if you see me shirtless?!"

.

.

.

For the Class President, Jungwon Yang was a little dumb.

You gave his head a soft smack.

"You dumbass," you chided him. "I've already seen you shirtless."

Jungwon's eyes widened into saucers. You sighed, rubbing your temples.

"Remember when I woke up to you half naked the other day?"

Oh. Right.

"And you're not going to be tainted if I see you shirtless. Stop being a baby and just let me see your injury, you loser!" With flighty eyes and red ears, Jungwon let you pull up his shirt, your fingers gently brushing against the brownish-purple bruise beginning to form on his side. He let out another hiss of pain when you pressed on it. "Does that hurt?"

"Y-Yeah."

Carefully, with the roll of bandages, you wrapped his torso. Although it was completely normal to you, Jungwon felt weird as your arms circled his waist. He could almost feel your breath on his neck. He'd been close to you like this as a cat, but it just felt different when he was a human.

You then gave him an ice pack, instructing him to hold it against his side.

"You're good at this," he complimented. You were very knowledgeable on how to treat wounds. 

"Well, I get into a lot of fights, y'know?" You flashed him a toothy grin before treating your own bruises.

Jungwon's heart dropped to his stomach. That was... really sad.

"Wait!" he blurted, reaching out to clutch your arm as you wrapped your wrists. "Let me help you with that."

"Um, okay."

Jungwon wasn't nearly as experienced as you, and his bandaging job was very clumsy. But you appreciated the effort.

When you were done, the two of you sat in a short silence.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked you.

You thought for a few moments. "I think I'm gonna jump the fence and leave."

"Huh? Why?"

You shrugged. "I refuse to go back there after what happened. Plus, lunch already ended, and I don't feel like serving after school detention today."

You'd already made up your mind, beginning to collect your things.

Jungwon blinked.

For the first time ever, he, too, didn't want to go back. Jungwon had never skipped a class in his life, let alone jumped the fence. 

"Why are you staring at me like that?" you nudged him with your foot. He looked up at you; you were ready to leave.

Jungwon breathed. This might be one of the hardest decisions of his life.

"Can I come with you?"

"If you're going to be worried, you should probably go back."

Jungwon swallowed down hard. He'd never skipped class before, and even if he really wanted to, he couldn't ignore the anxiety bubbling inside him.

"I'm not worried,” he clenched his fists. 

"Right."

After jumping the fence, you and Jungwon were free.

"Where are we going now?"

"Home."

Jungwon felt like he'd come home with you so much the past few days, to the point that he nearly memorized the way there.

Except, as he entered the doorway, your entire apartment looked different.

"Why are you so surprised?" you switched on the lights. "You've been here many times already."

"I know, but," Jungwon scanned your kitchen and living room. "Nearly every time I've been here, I was an 8-inch tall cat."

You went into your bathroom silently, leaving Jungwon to walk about your apartment. He'd never really got a good look at it. He observed the picture collage on your fridge, of you and your parents and friends, smiling so brightly. The peach soda - scented candle on your counter seemed so out of character for you, but for some reason, it made so much sense. From the arrangement of the throw pillows on your couch, to the fuzzy rug, to the pile of mail sprawled on the coffee table, your apartment felt so you.

When you emerged from your bathroom, Jungwon did a once-over. He'd seen you in your pajamas before, but for some reason, when he saw you now in your cute polka-dotted fluffy pajamas, you almost looked... cute. Someone as brooding as you in such cutesy pajamas gave him whiplash.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing..." but Jungwon couldn't hide the way his lips curved upwards.

You yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap."

"Okay."

.

.

.

"Can I join you?"

Jungwon had expected you to throw him a pillow and blanket on the floor, similar to what you did with him as a cat. But you didn't.

You patted the spot next to you on your bed, looking at him expectantly.

And that's how Jungwon found himself laying next to you like a sardine.

He felt like a child the way his hands felt clammy, feeling a wave of anxiety with each movement you had. In his defense, he'd never slept in the same bed with a girl. In fact, he couldn't remember a time where he was as close to a girl as he was right now.

"If you're uncomfortable, you can-"

"No, I'm okay!"

He felt your eyes on him for a few moments, before you sighed. You jammed a pillow between the two of you, creating a border of some sort.

"Is that better?"

Jungwon didn't know why, but he felt a twinge of disappointment.

"... Yeah."

The next few minutes were full of silence. Jungwon laid still like a statue. From the corner of his eye, he could see you snuggling up with a plushie, almost kind of like how you snuggled up with him when he was a cat.

An unconscious frown spread itself on his cheeks. 

He.... also wanted to be snuggled like that. Was it weird that he craved that closeness to you? He reasoned to himself that he was just used to it, since he’d spent the majority of his time with you as a cat. 

In a moment of pure boldness, Jungwon snatched the pillow between you and him away, throwing it on the floor.

You sent him a confused look. "Hey there."

Jungwon's eyes were shaky, yet they trained on the plushie you had in your arms. Then he looked at your face, then back at the plushie, then back at your face.

"You need something, Jungwon?" you asked, almost concerned.

"I— Uhm," his eyes kept flickering from your face to the plushie. At a certain point, he was glued to the plushie, unable to hide the pout formed on his lips.

For someone who was good at pretending to smile, he wore his feelings on his face so clearly, you rolled your eyes.

"You're so annoying," you muttered under your breath. You chucked the plushie in your arms to the side. You then threw your arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Jungwon let out a surprised yelp, but you ignored him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, careful not to touch his bruised abdomen. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses. "Is this better?"

Jungwon audibly gulped, but he eased into the feeling of your arms around him. "Y-Yeah..."

You were so close! He could smell the faint scent of your perfume, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry. You snuggled up against him, the sound of your soft breaths, which were slowing down into a steady rhythm, filling his ears. 

Jungwon took a deep breath, and melted into the warmth that was your arms. 

He wouldn’t mind doing this many more times, he thought. Would he?

And soon, he drifted off into dreamland, too.

Your eyes fluttered open a few hours later. Your bed was usually warm, but this time, it was very warm. So warm that you wanted to melt into it, completely and utterly disarmed by the comfort that you felt.

What time is it? was the first thing you thought.

The second thing you realized was that you could hear a heartbeat in your ears. Not your heartbeat, but the heartbeat of someone else. In fact, you were laying on someone's chest. 

Jungwon's chest.

There the two of you were, sprawled out on your bed. Jungwon gently held your head against his chest, his other arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, while your arms wrapped around his torso. Your legs were tangled. You didn't remember falling asleep like this, but it wasn't like you minded the position. You simply sunk back into him, basking in the warmth.

But Jungwon did.

As his eyes shot open, he immediately noticed the current position you and him were in. You felt him tense under you, his arms beginning to curl back into himself. But the warmth that he provided as your personal human heater was just too good, so you grabbed his arms, putting them back into the position they were holding you in.

"It's cold, Jungwon," you muttered, snuggling up against him.

“[N-Name],” Jungwon’s voice came out soft. He’d just woken up mere minutes ago, yet he was wide awake. There was a weird pounding in his chest that he couldn’t explain, one that thrummed so loud that he could hear it in his ears. Your touch felt like burns on his skin, an unforgiving scalding boil, hot to the touch. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Why was he suddenly feeling this way? Was he ill? Was he going to transform into a cat?

“[Name],” Jungwon whispered again, a little louder. His words got caught in his throat the moment he said it, wanting to swallow it the moment they left his lips. He didn’t know what he would say, but he just said your name to hear it on his tongue. 

“What?” you groaned, eyes gently shut but words lazily spoken.

Jungwon peered down at you. His ears felt like they were going to melt off his head. His skin seared with that scorching type of sting, the one that ached. 

“Nothing,” he murmured, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath you took. Soon, your breathing stilled, and Jungwon was sure that you’d fallen asleep completely.

He observed 

It was weird. He'd seen you up close like this before as a cat, but now that he was human-sized, it somehow felt so much more... intimate. Jungwon found himself digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched you sleep. He couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

Plunk!

Hey, what was that sound?

Plunk!

Jungwon's head shot to your bedroom window. Then, he heard yelling outside.

As he got up to check out the commotion, you tugged on him.

"I already told you..." you murmured dreamily. "It's cold."

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. "But, what's going on outside-"

"Ricky and Gyuvin," you answered, this time tightening your hold on the boy. "They like to... torment me... sometimes."

Just sometimes? Jungwon thought. Really, how often were you getting harassed like this?

Before Jungwon could answer, you were fast asleep again. From then on, Jungwon refused to move, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber.

But, there was one thing that he took heavy note of.

First, it was 7PM. It was completely dark outside by now, the blue-gray shrouded with clouds, only the yellow moon illuminating the sky.

And second, that he was still human.

Ever since that day, Jungwon hadn't turned into a cat even once.

However, while one phenomenon disappeared, another one emerged.

Jungwon's insanity.

Jungwon considered himself one of the, if not the most, sane person in every classroom. But right now, insanity was spiraling onto him like no other.

Weeks passed, and Jungwon couldn't shake off that tender, yet explosive, feeling he got when he was close to you.

After your week of detention was lifted, you and him slowly saw each other less and less. He couldn't help but feel disappointment when he locked up the detention room one last time, saying his goodbye to you.

You two were still in the same class, still saw each other everyday, but he didn't get to speak with you. 

And that was when Jungwon resorted to observing you.

He was naturally observant, but all this time, Jungwon had been observing the bigger picture. 

It started off with watching the doorway in the morning, praying that every person that passed was you. Then, Jungwon found himself watching you every passing period. Who did you talk to? Who tried to talk to you? What expression did you wear on your face?

Then, Jungwon took to roaming the school perimeter, under the excuse that he was just "patrolling the school for any trouble," when really, he was hoping that he'd run into you. This extended to after school. On the occasions that he actually ran into you, you'd shoot him a sly grin, making cat hands or ears over your head. He knew that you were doing that to tease him about his cat days, but his cheeks felt warm for another reason.

Have you always been that pretty? Of course, you'd always been cute, but did you always glow like that? Was Jungwon always into girls that looked like they could kick his ass? Why did the intimidating look on your face make his heart race?

Jungwon was in denial for a while, until he was at a Class Council meeting, when one of the members asked him casually, "Hey, what actually happened between you and [Name]?"

In retrospect, they were clearly referring to that one time you "assaulted" him. That incident remained shrouded in mystery for a while, as Jungwon refused to talk about it.

However, Jungwon jerked up at that question, his face painted with a look that could only be described as “constipated” at the sound of your name. Did someone find out about his cat transformation curse, and how you took care of him in that state? No, that would be too specific.

"Jungwon?"

"Y-Yes!"

Wonyoung and Jini shared a look, before a grin spread on their faces. 

"You make it seem like you guys were kissing, or something. We’re just curious about what actually happened."

A weird noise came out of Jungwon's throat, his eyes wide like saucers.

Kiss...ing?

"Oh my god, don't tell me you actually kissed [Name]--"

"I didn't!"

And he was telling the truth. But the bright, red color on his face betrayed him. The Council teased him all about it, even going so far as patting him on the back for "scoring a baddie" (Wonyoung's words, not his). He denied it, he denied it with his full chest. He held his head high, nose pointed to the sky, denying it like his life depended on it. 

But Jungwon couldn't help the weird feeling of pride that swelled in his chest. He liked the thought of kissing you, and in a weird, twisted way, he liked the way that people thought that you and him were together. Of course, he gave all of them a scolding for jumping to conclusions, but later in the day, when he was alone and reflected on the day, his cheeks began to hurt.

And that marked his actual descent into madness.

You began showing up in his dreams, smiling at him with those pretty, glossy lips, which he hadn't noticed until now. The grins you’d flash him across the room when he passed by, and the way you’d make cat hands or ears over your head whenever you saw him to tease him, made him feel weird. Gosh, did you have to be so pretty? Jungwon couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He craved your warmth, the warmth you gave him when you held him to your chest, the warmth you gave him when you hugged and called him annoying. Was it weird that he liked the way you could beat him up?

Jungwon was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone dinged.

Today was another mundane day, where he spent his lunch period in the Council room, looking through the schedule.

It was the Class Council group chat.

wonyoung jang: my friend said something fishy is going on in building b

wonyoung jang: someone go check it out?

jini choi: can't, i'm in a meeting rn

jini choi: jinwoo?

wonyoung jang: forget it he never checks the gc

wonyoung jang: jungwon?

Jungwon was already on it.

It wasn't uncommon for people to cause problems during lunch. In fact, that seemed to be the time when most people created the most commotion—

Oh my god, it was you.

When he rounded the corner, there you were. You had your arms crossed over your chest, backed up against a locker. The ones cornering you? Ricky, Gyuvin, and their lackeys.

"You're getting boring, yeah [Name]?" Ricky grinned. "I don't see you fighting back as much."

You shrugged, but you were clearly tense, narrowing your eyes. "I don't want to deal with you guys anymore."

Ricky slowly buttoned his shirt, revealing scars. Scars from scratchmarks. The same scars that Jungwon gave him.

"You see this?" his gaze hardened. "You and your goddamn vermin gave this to me.'

You looked at him incredulously, but you couldn't hide the small curve in your lip. "Okay. And?"

Ricky slammed his fist against the metal locker next to your head, making a loud clang! You cried out in surprise, jolting in place. Heck, even Jungwon was startled, quietly jumping out his skin for a second.

"You think this is funny?" Ricky slammed his fist again, relishing in the way you squeezed your eyes shut in sheer bewilderment. "You think you can get away with this shit?"

Your eyes darted around. Clearly, you were out-numbered and overpowered. Yet, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Yeah, I do," you muttered. "It was funny, the way you screamed like a girl, Ricky."

Ricky snatched your face, his hand clutching your chin. He leaned in close to you, so close that you felt his breath on your face. 

"You bitch."

Meanwhile, Jungwon's heart raced in his chest.

It was getting out of hand: how many people chose to bother you. You were honestly just minding your business, why did people want to pester you so much? He needed to step in before things escalated. And get you the fuck out of there.

Jungwon's body moved quicker than his mind. 

"Hey!" he shouted, making his presence known. Everyone's head whipped over to him. Jungwon gulped as his mind went into overdrive trying to figure out what to say. Curse himself, why did he jump into this without thinking? What a genius.

"Look who it is," Gyuvin slyly stepped forward. "[Name]'s little crush."

If Jungwon wasn't about to be jumped, he would have turned red at that little comment. He was too focused on the fact that you were in possible danger. 

"Yanno, Mr. Class President," Gyuvin paced toward him, his brows raised to his forehead. "[Name] here named her cat after you. Isn't it weird how she's obsessed with you?"

Your eyes were wide like saucers, sending him warning signals. 

'You need to leave,' your eyes read, but Jungwon ignored it. This entire time, he pranced around as the Class President, feeling righteous, yet he never even tried to empathize with someone like you. How could he claim his title but be so clearly blinded by dumb prejudice?

Gyuvin gestured for Jungwon to come closer, pulling him so that he was right in front of you, face-to-face.

"This one causes a lot of trouble, doesn't she?" Gyuvin rasped. "Parading around like she's some kind of queen, when really she's just a little cunt."

"I know you're angry, Jungwon," Ricky added, motioning to you. "Let your anger out, won't you?"

They were right about him being angry. But not at you, not at the world, not at whatever internal conflict he had. 

At them.

Jungwon's hands balled into fists.

"You guys are out of your fuckin' minds," he grumbled, his shoulders shaking. Before they could respond, Jungwon raised his fist, and swung in as hard as he could at Gyuvin, square in the jaw. Immediately, the rest of their lackeys stumbled back, screaming out their leader's name.

This was your opportunity to fight back. Kicking off the wall, you landed a kick at Ricky in the stomach, pushing him to the ground. "Your breath stinks, by the way."

With your back turned, the next thing you heard was a yelp of pain.

Shit, Jungwon!

You yelled his name.

Jungwon, to your knowledge, was not a fighter. He didn't fight people daily, he wasn't violent, he didn't tell people that he'd "kick their asses" like you did. For goodness's sake, he was the Class President. He'd never even had a missing assignment, he was most definitely not going to be able to fight back, let alone land a punch—

But instead of seeing the poor guy on the floor with everyone else beating the crap out of him, you saw the opposite. Jungwon, with only a minute cut on his cheek and bruised knuckles, stood tall, while the rest of the guys (including Gyuvin) groaned on the floor.

How did he..?

Jungwon snatched your hand. Before you could process what the hell just happened, he started profusely asking you if you were okay, if you were hurt. Right in the middle of a whole bunch of dudes groaning in pain.

You squeezed his hand, before running off, pulling him with you.

"You're so annoying, Jungwon!" you scolded him as you wrapped his knuckles in the nurse's office. "Why would you jump into a fight like that—"

"You were in trouble," was all he said solemnly. 

"So what?!" You looked at him incredulously. "You're insane. You're the President, why would you—"

As you chided him, Jungwon found it difficult to focus. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, or the way that you were so close to him. As he sat on the counter, you found your place in between his legs, dabbing rubbing alcohol on the cut on his cheek. It stung, but he only dug his teeth into his bottom lip, instead gluing his eyes to the way your lips moved.

"Jungwon, are you even listening to me?!"

"Yeah, yeah."

You smacked his shoulder. "And you're still recovering from an injury from a few weeks ago, what would you do if they tried to kick you in the stomach again?!" You flicked his forehead.

Jungwon couldn't help the way he felt his lips lifting up. The way you worried about him made his chest feel warm, mindlessly nodding along and agreeing with every word you said.

"You know what?!" you huffed, a hand coming up to rub your temples. "How the hell did you beat them up so quickly back there?! That— That was unreal."

Jungwon opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. "— Do you also have some curse that makes you unnecessarily ripped all of a sudden?"

Your hand came up to squeeze his bicep. Although it was hard, especially when he flexed it for you with a grin, revealing his toned arms, it still didn't explain how the hell he was so strong.

"I didn't tell you?" Jungwon smiled. "I used to do Taekwondo."

"You did not tell me. I don't think there was ever a conversation where that came up—"

Jungwon threw his head back, letting a laugh tumble from his lips. "Well, now you know."

It must have been something in the air, because Jungwon would not have done this any other time, but he slithered his arm around your waist as you cupped his cheek gently, fixing up the cut on his face. His hand dangled at your hip, his fingertips brushing up against your thigh. Your eye fluttered over to it briefly, but you didn't seem bothered. In fact, you actually leaned in closer, your other hand sliding up his chest to grip his shoulder for stability. As he was sitting and you were standing, his head angled up at you. The way you gaze down at him, your expression rested, made him almost feel light-headed.

"What if they spread rumors about you, Jungwon?" you asked quietly.

"I wouldn't care," he answered simply.

"But you're the President," your brows knitted together. 

"So what?" Jungwon breathed. "Should the President be concerned over silly rumors?"

"Won't people be suspicious if it suddenly came out that Jungwon Yang beat up a few guys?"

If you asked Jungwon this a few weeks ago, he'd be worried out of his mind. He'd be afraid of his reputation being ruined, he'd be afraid of what others thought of him. But for some reason, it didn't concern him that much anymore.

"That's their problem, not mine."

Just as those words left his lips, his phone began to blow up. He glanced at it briefly; it was probably the groupchat or something, but as it continued to ding, you motioned to it.

"You might want to check that out."

So he did.

wonyoung jang: jungwon we need you right now

wonyoung jang: it's BAD BAD

wonyoung jang: everyone's saying you jumped ricky and gyuvin

jini choi: mr president we need you NOWW

You peeked over his shoulder, only seeing the last message.

"You should go, Jungwon."

"I don't want to."

You gave him a look.

"Suddenly so rebellious?" you nudged his shoulder, the corner of your lip raising. "C'mon, you have duties."

Begrudgingly, Jungwon up and left the nurse's office, sending you the brightest smile he could muster. 

The moment Jungwon stepped into the classroom, he was bombarded– no, completely besieged– with questions. The mere amount of people hounding him with questions was so much, that all their words blended together.

“Okay, okay!” he shouted, putting his hands out in front of him. “One at a time, Jesus Christ.”

They called for a very "needed class discussion."

Long story short, Jungwon thought that everyone was kind of dumb. The way they were all concerned about whether or not he actually beat up Ricky and Gyuvin was ridiculous. Although Jungwon was honestly tired, he wanted to be smart with his words. He didn't want to scare them, did he?

"No comment."

"I don't feel like talking about it."

"I have nothing to add to that."

He found himself crinkling his nose a little too often as those words came out of his lips more times than he could count.

"Jungwon," some girl in the back of the class spoke up. "I heard rumors that you and [Name] are dating. Is that true?"

The class erupted with even more talking, people from other classes even lining the doorway to listen to it. The way that lunch should have ended a long time ago, but the teachers let this continue because they were also nosy and wanted to know. Did it really matter that much?

"Man, I don't know how I feel about that."

"But Jungwon's too good for her."

"[Name]? Of all people?"

They didn't even know you, how could they come to that conclusion if they never even spoke to you?

"But [Name]'s a bitch!"

"How is our Class President dating a bully?"

Jungwon's lips pressed together to form a thin line as thin as paper. He'd always thought that he'd been good at controlling his emotions, but the anger that was threatening to spill out of his throat was rising to a boil, bubbling to the point that if he didn't do something about it now, he'd absolutely implode.

"That's enough," he said, too quiet for anyone to hear. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing, behind Jungwon slammed his hand on the front table. "That's enough!"

The room went silent.

He took a deep breath, trying his hardest to contain his feelings. 

"I don't see the relationship between my love life and the class's affairs," he said simply. "We are having a class discussion, and in our class discussions, we discuss problems relating to the class. In what way is the person I'm romantically interested in a problem that relates to the class?"

Silence.

Jungwon looked around with a cocked brow, expecting an answer.

Silence.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. 

He was tired.

As he pushed past people crowded at the door, Jungwon turned over his shoulder.

"By the way, I think [Name] is pretty cool. You guys should talk to her some time, maybe you'd be happier if you did."

And then he left.

Jungwon expected to find you back in the nurse's office, but he found you down the hall, your arms crossed over your chest, leaning against the wall.

He rushed to you, clutching your hands.

"[Name]," he said, "Hi."

You raised your brow at him, the corner of your lip lifting. "I'm pretty cool, aren't I?"

"Shut up," Jungwon muttered under his breath, but his eyes stayed stuck on you. He squeezed your hands. "Everyone's so annoying."

"I know," you squeezed his hand back. "You were cool back there, Jungwon."

Jungwon's cheeks warmed up at that compliment. Now that he realized that way your hands were in his, he felt his face prickle with heat. "Thanks..."

Somehow, your gaze felt too much for him to take. Jungwon avoided your eyes, choosing to look down at the floor. He felt your hand gently grasp his jaw, before forcing him to look at you.

"I really mean it," you said. "You're really the coolest. It's almost scary."

Jungwon opened his mouth to respond, but before he did...

Poof!

But this time, it wasn’t him that turned into a cat.

It was you.

"Not again!"

Jungwon seemed like a cat person. And he most definitely was one. 

The moment that your cat form appeared at his feet, he scooped you up. Taking off his uniform blazer, he carefully wrapped you in it, before (to your complete and utter surprise) he jumped the fence, skipping class.

You meowed profusely. You had no idea how Jungwon did it; as words tumbled out of your mouth, they only came out as meows, and when you tried to clutch his forearm, all you could do was curse your annoyingly small paws.

If it weren't for your feline form, you'd be scolding him, chiding him for skipping class.

He was silent until the two of you reached a stoplight, when he took you out of the wrap that was his blazer. With his thumb, gently rubbed the spot behind your ears. Without even realizing it, you purred, leaning into his touch as if to say,"More!"

Jungwon chuckled, and you could feel his chest rumbling. 

How embarrassing! How did he do this everyday for nearly a week and not go completely insane?! When he began rubbing your nose, laughing at the way that you fussed, Jungwon softly squeezed your stomach.

"It's my turn to take care of you, [Name]," he murmured, holding your feline face up to his. From your much smaller form, you could see every detail of his face— from the curve of his eyes, to the blemishes on his nose, to the divots in his half-chapped lips. You'd be lying if you didn't say that Jungwon had a nice face. You brought your paw up to his cheek, to which he chuckled again. He took your paw with his hand, before nuzzling his cheek into it.

When Jungwon finally arrived at his apartment, your question (where were his parents?) from weeks ago was finally answered: he lived away from them.

"Just like you," he whispered against your fur, rubbing your head as he flicked the lights on.

The next thing you knew, you were being bathed in warm, soapy water, as strawberry-scented bubbles filled the little bathtub. Jungwon dried you with his softest towel, and then you were eating the cat-equivalent of a five course meal.

"I feed the stray cats sometimes," he explained to you when your feline eyes gazed at him questioningly.

Was it normal for you to be so tired? You usually weren't this sleepy at this time in the day, yet you were. As you laid on Jungwon's lap, purring at the way his fingers ran through your fur, your eyes felt heavy.

It wouldn't hurt to doze off, right? After all, you were with Jungwon.

Jungwon tucked you into his bed, placing you on a pillow before covering you with a small blanket. He booped your nose.

Although he'd willingly skipped class today, he still had his own responsibilities that he'd like to attend to. He looked over all his homework, filing through all his important Presidential duties, and jamming in all the extra studying that was necessary. 

It was a quiet few hours for him. Every hour, or so, he'd go to check on you. Each time he did, you were soundly sleeping. Since you transformed into a cat during the day, there was no telling when or how you'd transform back. He wondered how you'd react when you transformed back. Would you be bashful about it? Or, like always, would you call him annoying, and tell him that he spread his "disease" to you? Jungwon's lips curved at the thought of that. You were cute as a cat, but he thought you were cuter as a human, obviously. 

As he worked away, Jungwon didn't notice the way the sun slowly sank into the horizon, its yellow face eventually disappearing. He was deep into focus when he heard a crash, and a small yelp. Coming from his room.

"Jungwon?" your voice called.

Immediately, he dropped his pen, dashing straight to his room. You were awake now, he thought. Maybe he could fit in a nice conversation with you, get closer to you, but that might be difficult when you were so pretty—

Oh.

The moment that Jungwon busted his bedroom door, he really didn't know what he expected.

But he definitely didn't expect to see you.

Naked, sprawled on his bed.

!!!

You let out a shrill scream. Jungwon's face flared with heat, immediately turning around. He buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"S-Sorry!"

He felt like he could have increased the global warming rate and melted multiple ice-caps just by the sheer amount of heat radiating off of his face. It was so bad that his eyes began to water from pure embarrassment. 

Jungwon must be dying, he thought. He might actually drop dead now.

He heard rustling, before your voice, much quieter than he'd ever heard it, murmured, "You can look now..."

Jungwon turned around, but he still kept his eyes shut. If he looked you in the eye now, he'd probably combust on the spot. Slowly, his eyes peeled open, to reveal you, just as embarrassed as him, curled up on his bed, with his blankets wrapped around you.

"Sorry," you muttered, your eyes glued to the floor, too shy to meet his. Your bottom lip jutted out to form a pout, your brows softly furrowing.

Jungwon waved his hands in front of him profusely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Y-You have nothing to apologize for."

"Right."

.

.

.

"Jungwon, I'm naked—"

He was already on it. Your school clothes were still in the washer, so Jungwon dug through his closet, throwing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He let you do your business, and just when Jungwon thought that all his embarrassment was gone, he saw you in his clothes.

Shit.

Jungwon clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to hide the growing smile on his cheeks.

You looked so... cute.

"Yah," you kicked him with your foot, still buried in his blankets. He could see the way your eyes were shifty, still avoiding his. "What're you laughing at?"

"Nothing," was all Jungwon said, but a smile was apparent in his voice.

"Stop laughing!" you threw a pillow at him.

This scene has happened before.

Jungwon laughed, his eyes pressing into thin crescents as his sharp teeth came into view. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. Why did he have to look pretty when he laughed?

You threw another pillow at him. Jungwon snatched the pillow off the floor, charging toward you. You let another shrill shriek escape your lips when he managed to land a hit on you with the pillow.

"Jungwon!" you cried, as he grabbed another pillow, hitting you on the top of your head. You struggled for another soft and plush weapon to use against your assailant, but alas, he was much faster and stronger than you, "Jungw— Hey!"

"You started it!" He was kneeling at the edge of the bed, when he reached for yet another one of his pillows. When he did this, Jungwon had to climb onto the bed entirely. You hit his hand away from his target pillow.

"You already have two pillows!" you nudged him with your foot. "Don't be unfair."

"All's fair in love and war," Jungwon said simply.

You stared at him incredulously, before you bursted out laughing. Jungwon's ears burned, but he didn't budge.

"Okay, you nerd." With that, you seized the pillow that he was so desperately trying to obtain, only for Jungwon to try to rob you of it. For the next few minutes, you and Jungwon struggled over the pillow, ripping it out of each other's hands.

"Let go!" you cried.

"Absolutely not!"

It was going just fine. A friendly pillow fight. Right?

Except, Jungwon miscalculated one of his movements, causing him to launch himself forward. He landed right on top of you, his hands right beside your head with his arms caging you below him.

Oh.

Oh.

With his dark locks falling over his face, Jungwon gazed down at you with wide eyes. The way you looked back up at him, eyes glittery and lips parted, your breath heavy from the earlier play-fighting, made his heart race. Why were your lips so glossy under the light? Why did his bed fit you so perfectly? Why did you look so pretty when you were in his clothes in his bed in his arms? Why did he want to lean in and—

On your end, your heart was palpitating just as much as Jungwon's was. But of course, you didn't know that.

The lamp next to his bed casted a dim, orange light, and even under the shadow, Jungwon's honey tan skin glowed. 

There was something about the way his toned arms dangled over your head, or the way you could see his collarbones peeking out of his shirt, or the way that his neck just looked so goddamn kissable right now—

The two of you could have been staring into each other's eyes for minutes or for hours, there really wouldn't have been a difference.

"Uh, sorry," Jungwon finally said, the embarrassment finally settling in. He began to maneuver off of you, the warmth of your touch being ripped away from him.

No! You didn't want him to get off of you! You wanted him to be close to you!

You grabbed his wrist, yanking him down. Instead of caging you, Jungwon instead was now met with a faceful of your chest, much to his embarrassment.

"[Name]...!" he spluttered, but you didn't care. You pressed your hand on his back, making the rest of his body relax into yours, before you ran your hands through his hair.

"I'm tired," you muttered in his ear. "I want to sleep."

"Y-You just woke up..!" his voice was muffled by your chest and shoulder.

"I don't care." Your fingers stopped in his hair, before you reached for his lamp, switching it off. "We're sleeping."

All Jungwon could do was sigh, admitting defeat to you. He relaxed into your body, taking in your sweet scent, though with reddened cheeks. He thanked the newfound darkness for concealing the color of his face. Realizing that you were no longer playing with his hair, Jungwon clutched your hand, dragging it and plopping it right on top of his head.

"Play with my hair, [Name]."

"You're annoying," you whispered, but you complied. You were so warm, and soft, and calming. Jungwon felt all his worries melt away, which was why he couldn't help but nuzzle his face into your chest. You cocked a brow at him, pausing to flick his forehead. "Okay, you perv."

Jungwon shot up. "I'm not a—!"

You pushed his head down back into your chest, your other arm coming up to hold him in place. "Go back to sleep."

And who was he to refuse you?

Jungwon and you saw each other quite often after that. In passing, you'd always shoot him that signature smile, accompanied by a punch on the shoulder, or a light slap on the arm, or even a soft shove. Some days, you'd drop by the Council room and say hi to him, maybe even look over his Presidential papers. You got suspicious looks whenever you did, but the glare of the class's residential troublemaker and the Class President was enough to send people spiraling.

Day by day, Jungwon's feelings grew for you. Exponentially. It could be little things, like how you'd send him questioning looks when someone said something questionable, or the way that you'd scrunch your nose whenever he purposefully stared at you. But it was also the other moments outside of school that he valued, like when he found you feeding a few stray cats, or when he saw at the grocery store stocking up on cat food (just in case you or him turned into a cat again, your words not his). 

Little did he know, you, too, blossomed a crush. You didn't talk to many people, so Jungwon was special. You liked that he was diligent and hard-working, and his snobbery wasn't really existent. He was one of, if not the only, person that you chose to tolerate. He was cute, someone that you wouldn't mind being around.

It's been long known to Jungwon that he wasn't always as smart as he thought he was. But sometimes he thought he was plain stupid.

“I like you,” Jungwon blurted one day after school, as you helped him look over his papers. The moment that those words left his mouth, Jungwon wanted to eat them. 

As spring came rolling into your lives, the days were getting longer. Sunlight illuminated the empty classroom, casting a delicate shadow on your features. 

Jungwon didn't know what came over him, what spirit decided to possess him in that moment.

After a few moments, you said, "Okay."

.

.

.

Okay?

Just.

Okay?

Jungwon squeezed his eyes shut as his heart plummeted to his stomach. Of course he had no chance with you. How could he? Was he getting ahead of himself? Had he been misinterpreting your relationship this entire time?

Just as embarrassment crashed down on Jungwon, you clicked your tongue.

"Can you stop panicking?" you asked frankly. When you noticed his very red expression, you huffed. "I didn't reject you, if that's what you're thinking—" you pinched your nose-bridge— "Just, let me think of a response."

That only made Jungwon sink deeper into his seat. Oh, he was so naive! What would happen after this? He didn't want to lose his friendship with you, not at all! Maybe he should die, maybe the earth should just open up right now and eat him alive—

“Jungwon,” you finally said. “I think you’re really cute.”

Jungwon held his breath.

“But,” you continued. “This is a little fast for me.”

As catastrophe rained down on his shoulders, you stifled a giggle.

Setting down your pen, you rested your face on your fist, gazing over at the boy.

Gently, as if he were a piece of glass, your fingers clutched his chin, moving his face to look at you. Jungwon's eyelids fell shut at your touch. Biting back a grin, you leaned in toward him. Experimentally, you came just close enough for Jungwon to feel your breath against his lips, ghosting you lips over his. You watched the way his brows knitted together, his lips wobbling.

Cute.

You pressed one kiss on his right eyelid. You felt his shoulders tense under you, but you only smiled. You pressed another kiss on his left eyelid. Before he could react, you pulled away.

“Take me out on a date first, yeah?” there was a smile in your voice.

Jungwon stood frozen in his spot, before his eyes shot open.

Date?

“And bring me flowers,” there was a teasing, but also dreamy, tone in your voice. “I like roses.”

The way Jungwon just stared at you with widened, glossy eyes, dumbfounded beyond words made you throw your head back, laughter bubbling from your chest.

You leaned in toward him again, collecting his hands in yours.

“I like sweets, but anything with too much chocolate makes me sick,” you leaned in closer. “I’m free every day, since none of the teachers are on my dick anymore.”

You put your finger to your lip in thought. “If you don’t want to go anywhere, we can come over to my house and nap. I like being hugged and I get cold easily.”

“W-Wait, what?!”

Jungwon felt so much blood rush to his face, he almost fainted.

"I like you, too," you said simply, as if it were just another fact and not one of the most ground-breaking discoveries of Jungwon's life! "I want you to take me out on a date."

Jungwon blinked.

You got up from your chair, yawning and stretching. Then, you began packing up your things.

"I have to go now," you flashed him a grin. "I'm tired."

As you made your way to the door, Jungwon finally realized where he was, and what the hell was happening: you, his crush, liked him back, and this was his chance.

"W-Wait!" Jungwon blurted, his hand jerking out to grab your wrist. Almost like you were hoping for him to do that, you turned over your shoulder, humming.

"This Saturday!" Jungwon gulped down those dumb words that threatened to spill out his mouth, the ones that would make him look even more like a fool. "Go out with me this Saturday, 5PM."

You only smiled. "Okay. Saturday, 5PM. Got it."

The two of you stood like that for what felt like hours. Jungwon darted his tongue out to swipe over his bottom lip. He wanted to say something to you, but he simply couldn't bring himself to utter words.

"You won't turn into a cat, on me, yeah?" you teased him, the corner of your lip raising up. Oh, how much he wanted to kiss them. How would your hand fit in his? What should he wear? Where would you go?

"No..." Jungwon answered, too dazed. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You slipped out of his grasp, making your way out of the room. Though, your footsteps as they faded away sounded more excited than usual.

Jungwon was left there in the classroom, alone. He blinked a few more times, letting a few more pulses pass, before his face broke out with a smile.

There he stood, hiding his face in his palms. 

Oh, he couldn't wait until Saturday.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

[gavisuntiedboot]

Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

~

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

~

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

[queers-gambit]

Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[flawseer]

On Mudwing Culture

My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:

Mudwings are seriously into food.

I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.

But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.

The State of Food Preparation on the Continent

Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.

There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.

More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.

And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.

Why is that, and how did it happen?

Historical Benefits of Cooking

Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.

Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.

As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.

So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.

Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.

The Role of Food in Mudwing Society

If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.

Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.

Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.

And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.

Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.

If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.

Is there any evidence for this in the books?

To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.

I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.

I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.

[nmyphomania]

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 3: Breeding]❞

Summary: Some advisors piss Zuko off about a baby, and he decides you’re the only one who can fix this situation.

Warning(s): F! Reader, breeding, mating press, messy kissing, rough sex, snowballing, mouth-spitting, minor dirty talk, dub-con if you read in between the lines, creampie, multiple orgasms

WC: 1.6k

•𑁍•

You never really understood how you and Zuko could possibly go from one situation, to an entirely different one in seemingly mere minutes. More appropriately, an hour or two ago. His advisors were talking to him about how they oh so needed an heir to the throne to be conceived at once. How they preferred a boy to become the next to hold the title of the Fire lord, another preferred that he should be taught extensive firebending training to become as powerful as Zuko was by sixteen. Zuko came back to his quarters pissed as ever just listening to the advisors, he couldn’t believe half of the shit that ran loosely from their ignorant mouths.

The more thoughts of the meeting streamed through his head, the harder he plowed his hips down into you. Thinking about the situation never made his temper falter from any less upset he was in those moments, the bed underneath began to thump against the solid walls unforgivingly. Zuko’s hands went to grip at your fleshy hips, hammering himself forcibly into your salivating folds that could only go basically numb from his assaults. She submitted to his every will during his bout of anger, wails somewhat muffled out due to the thickness of the duvets on the bed, eyes going straight to the back of her head each time Zuko would slam dead on her g spot.

“You want a fucking heir, I’ll give you one, maybe even fucking three.” He spat, more to himself than out loud. You, however, heard this and wholly melted into the mattress with a significantly louder sob than the rest. The man above you lifted his leg up to stamp flatly in the mattress to support his impossibly deeper movements, they sped up smoothly with all his preceding thrusts, greatly affecting the ability to intake a proper lung-full of air. It's like he was a different person when he was upset, there was no negotiation on power play, no playfulness, nothing. He just raw-dogged your insides into a thick pulp with your fucking third orgasm of the night.

His hips spanked fat red marks into the underside of your ass, the rough contact didn’t even hurt anymore. The pain had grown so great that now every time he slapped painfully on your skin, the harsh sting was reduced to a dull, numbed out soreness. From your fingers flying all the way down to your toes felt like pins and needles prickling the surface of your naked body, even your throat started to burn from all the screaming your vocals could barely even support. He finally groaned longingly once your walls came in on his dick, spewing out another trail of juices from the couple’s connection. A strong hand gripped until fingernail marks dug into your flesh, aiding him to propel you back onto his length to intensify his hips’ jolts forward.

A burning sensation now stinging at his pelvis from the reckless use of his toned hips along with his propped up leg, the ecstatic crescendo of his orgasm peaking just behind a couple more thrusts. Drilling the head of his cock so deep he was sure he made it to her heated womb desperately asking for his cum to breed her to the brim and beyond. To plant whatever he could produce from his depths in the midst of her beaten up insides. Heaving his angry arousal along the embrace of her gummy walls around him.

“‘m gonna, do it in you. I hope that’s alright..” He muttered out almost apprehensively. You choked out whatever intelligible words you could form, “Y-yes…Zuko.”

Zuko abruptly flipped you around to stay put on your back, legs being pushed back until her knees hit the mattress beside her head. Standing slightly above her, he moved closer to re enter inside of her in such a crude position on the surface of the bed. From over her own body, he planted deeply inside of her messy pussy, roughly molding out his dick inside of her pitiful sex like some hungry animal. Tears accumulated at the corners of your eyes from the physically demanding position you were now forced into, your legs felt like they could give out from being pushed beyond their flexibility limits. All liquids being forced out of you splashing on his face, creating a wet sheen over his body.

Long, drawn out keens from the both if you sounded into the atmosphere of the room from your mutual stomach-caving finish. Zuko fucked his orgasm inside of her even further, plunging whatever wasn’t already balls deep inside of her. It's like his cock touched the very part of her soul that made something snap in her mind, continuing his jarring pushes downward. So deep, so big, so amazing, you could virtually feel the thickness of the base of his dick in your throat, never letting up fucking you as passionately as he did.

“Give me another I know you can do it f’me love.”

Everything went impractically faster leaving you a filthy mess, you couldn’t even think straight without thinking about how his dick is currently beating down your guts at the moment. Drool seeped steadily from the corner of your mouth, eyes twitching from the immense amount of pressure and jerks from the overwhelming senses of their sex. You could barely wrap your arms around him as he had you mostly pinned down in this foreign position, so deciding it was best to just lay there and take it like some desperate bitch. Sputters, some bubbles and your eyes glued to the back of your head, your mouth left gaping as he leaned over to kiss you gently on your exposed neck.

“Good angi, give it to me Zuko!”

The breathed-out comment sent something rushing through his veins, he couldn’t decipher it but god, the way she looked him into his eyes taunting; hell even daring him to get her all sorts of knocked up. As knocked up as he could even get her, filling her up until her stomach bulged even more prominently. He grew dizzy, legs failing to keep him up through the process of gaining one more blissful finish, his voice nothing more than hoarse whispers of sighs, pants, all telltale signs of him getting so much closer.

Zuko strokes decelerated gently, allowing him to continue to delve inside her deep, relaxing his body so that he can place a firm hand to wrap itself on the base of her neck.

“Open.” She listened wordlessly, he conjured up a petty strand of saliva to spit into the warmth of her open mouth. Letting her lap at his dribble by sticking her tongue out wide, and flicking at anything that came from him. This urged you two into a languid kiss, breathing frantically against each other’s mouths whilst Zuko resumed his previous pace from before. Their lips would meet every now and then, but not for long. You sucked in his bottom lip, licking up into the unexplored space of his mouth. He took the chance to wrap his lips around your tongue, bobbing his head unhurriedly, almost methodically.

As the night dragged on, the both of you were nearly drunk off each other’s lips, hands, skin even. Another couple of orgasms came out of the time and effort both of you put into loving on each other all of his cum only reserved for going inside of you, now working on the final one of the night, the two of you were pressed on the wall rutting into each other like some hormonal teenagers. She threw her head back on the wall with a thud, swallowing thickly, a slightly painful climax ripping through her sobbing pussy. Zuko pulled out of you entirely once he finally came, making you drop on your knees to catch his cum in your mouth. His whole figure tenses and jerks erratically in the heat of the climax, clouding his mind and any thoughts that seemed to run rampant. He huffed, bringing his hand up to bite down on a fist while he blew his literal bodily capacity inside your tight mouth.

As you took all of the stripes of white flinging all over in both your mouth and throat, his abs convulsed and rolled under his pale skin. You watch as he furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his fist out from between his teeth in awe at how hard he came.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere”

Going to pull yourself up with the use of the nearby nightstand, he brought both of his hands to snake around your neck before pulling you into a deep kiss. He swirled around his own essence with his curious tongue, wiping away the stray trail falling from the side of your mouth. It was thick, sloppy, and almost sweet tasting; and the two of them shared how ever much could be evenly distributed between each other.

His right hand went to trace around your figure that outlined your body he knew all too well, traveling across the stuffed swell of your stomach. Maybe, and hopefully so, that a few healthy babies could be conceived from your bred and worked out body. Some of it dripped along the plushness of your thigh, running out from between your naked folds from the overfill he bestowed on her from the events of that evening. Just beautiful, he never said this aloud but he thought it, sliding his hand down even further to fully palm possessively at your throbbing heat he could most definitely lose his mind over.

•𑁍•

Tags:

[screeching-bunny]

I’m not sure if you accept thirst asks, but if you do, then, goshhhh imagine giving ‘it’ to one of your concubines and they just keep repeating the words “Thank you thank you thank you” as they suck and lap at your 🫢. They repeat the words like a prayer, almost as if they were worshipping a god (you).

But if don’t accept thirst asks then please feel free to ignore if this ever makes you uncomfortable.

Yandere! Concubine Harem Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’ NSFW!!! MINORS DNI. This is my first time writing nsfw content so it’s kinda bad 💀.

In a magnificent office filled with many luxuries sat a grand ruler by their desk surrounded by towering piles of paperwork. The ruler's regal figure was draped in a robe of royal purple, adorned with gold trimmings, symbolizing their authority and power. As the sun's rays filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow upon the room, you sighed wearily, with brows furrowed with the weight of your responsibilities. All was quiet but if someone listened closely they could hear the faint sound of slurping.

“Can’t you be quieter? Can’t you see I’m trying to get some of my work done!?”

Beneath you and between your legs was your consort on his knees. He was undressed and was as naked as the day he was born. The man was known for his fierceness and cold heart was currently panting under you like a dog. The sounds of gasps and moans could be heard coming from the man. Currently his lips were red and swollen from the rough treatment that you have given him. Saliva dripped down his mouth as he was desperate to have a taste of you. He sucked and licked as if you were the only source of water he had in years. There was a look of desperateness in his eyes, it made you chuckle at how pathetic he looked. A constant mumbling of “thank yous” came from him each time he had a chance to breathe air.

The consort, whose name you couldn’t have bothered to remember, was as hard as a rock. Having enough of how slow this was going you decided to throw him down onto a couch. You made your way on top of him, positioned yourself, and slammed down right onto his member.

“Ahhh, agh!!”

Tears leaked from his eyes as he began to tremble. Your arms were pressed firmly into the cushions as you made your fierce movements as he was beneath you. He was huge and swollen within you. You began to rock your hips continuously down on him. His breathing became more harsh and stuttered. You leaned down and began to nibble down on his bottom lip. The kiss was very strong and aggressive. When your consort needed to breathe you made sure to slam your lips back on top of his again. His hands on your waist while your tongues intertwined with each other. Devastating pleasure overcame your consort. His eyes were hazy and you could feel a pump of warm liquid form inside of you. When you released from the kiss his mouth was red and swollen with a string of saliva attaching the two of you.

“Ah, ah, agh!!”

“I can’t believe you came from a kiss. Ugh whatever, a few of my advisors will be here any minute. If they catch us doing this, I won't be letting you off easy tonight.”

It was safe to say that the advisors were never allowed entrance into your study due to… your other matters. However, the next day whenever the maids came near that room, their faces would instantly turn bright red. The sounds that came from that room yesterday were definitely something else and they couldn’t help but blush from it. They just couldn’t believe it went on for an entire day! The good thing was that at least the maids that were in charge of cleaning up your mess got a massive raise but holy cow did you really have to break a sofa?!?! The only thing that they could do was pray for your poor consort.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

M!troll x f!reader

1.3k words and finally getting at least into fluff

You did not like whatever Zen’jan was hiding, and the way he looked upset to see you when you found him upset you more than you thought it could. Back home Zen’jan is acting off, something weighing on him heavily that he seems hesitant to talk about.

————

Zen’jan sat down at the hearth and immediately began arranging the wood and coals to get it lit. The two of you had walked home in complete silence and he seemed to plan on keeping that up.

“Are we going to talk about whatever that was?” you asked, annoyed.

“Come sit with me, please” he asked, almost begging.

“If I sit with you will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Yes, but please just come sit with me” he was really was begging. He looked desperate and just sad, staring up at you looking more like a wet house cat than a king’s advisor and war hero.

Hesitantly you sat next to him at the hearth instead of across from him as usual and he scooted closer to you until his leg was against yours.

“I am sorry that I left this morning without saying anything” he began, he was not looking at you and instead busied himself with arranging the wood and coals in the hearth some more. “I did not know how to talk to you and just needed space to think”.

“Then why not tell me that earlier?”

“Because I could not think clearly earlier, and it is still hard to find the words now”.

“The find whatever words you can, but please tell me what’s wrong, I was worried about you” now you understood how he must have felt the other day when you were in bed and not telling him what the problem was. It was not a good feeling.

He reached past you to where the flint and steel sat on your other side, leaning against you a bit and almost nuzzling his cheek against the side of your head for a moment.

“It is not usually a big deal, just a normal part of life but I do not think humans have it, so I was not sure how to explain” still he did not look at you, but instead lit the hearth.

Once more he reached past you, this time leaning a lot of his weight against you and very much nuzzling against you when he went to grab the bag in grain.

“What in the world are you doing?” you snapped at him more than you intended to.

“I am sorry, I was trying to give you space like always this morning, but it was proving hard, that is part of why I needed to clear my head and left”.

He had been unusually close to you ever since you left Ba’tual’s house. Walking close enough to you so that his arm brushed against you and moving closer if you stepped away. The pleading for you to sit next to him, the leaning and nuzzling against you, it was weird for him.

“So what’s with all the touching?” you asked.

“It is usually not like this for me, though this is also the first time I have ever had someone in my life this time of year so that may have something to do with it” he trailed off.

“Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

A long silence hung heavy in the air while Zen’jan seemed to gather his thoughts, “I do not know how to say everything in common exactly, but it is a very old thing for us. Early trolls could only have children at certain times of the year, and it is not like that anymore, but some of the… impulses remain” he was fidgeting with the flint and steel, turning them over and over in his hands.

“Impulses?” you pushed him, you figured you knew what he meant now but wanted the clarification anyways.

“It is different for everyone, with how much we have changed over thousands of years and the migrations, and really it has never bothered me much. A little annoying, but nothing I could not handle myself”.

“And now?” you pushed again.

“And now, I just desperately want to be close to you. That is all, I swear”.

You regarded him closely, leaning forward to try to see his face where he had his head hung. He looked embarrassed, refusing to meet your gaze.

“And so you left this morning because you didn’t know how to say that?”

“Yes, because I feel like a flustered teen in his first rut and all I want is to be close to you. I could not stop watching you when was setting up for breakfast. I just wanted to sit at your side and run my fingers through your hair, to rest my head against yours, to just be close. I could not think and it felt so awful, and I did not want to burden you with my problems”.

“Oh” you said softly. It was not what you expected, none of it was.

“I can stay with Bira or Ba in the meantime, just for a week or so. I do not want you to be uncomfortable or to ask for more than you are willing to give. I have already probably asked too much of you” he said as he scooted away from you a bit. At this point he had turned to face away from you, very flustered by everything.

You instead scooted back closer to him and leaned your forehead into his shoulder, “I can learn to be comfortable being close, if it’ll help you”.

Ba’tual was right, you probably should be kinder to Zen’jan. He was still sleeping on the floor every night to give you space, he spent a week taking care of you and waiting on you hand and foot when you were on your period, he made you breakfast every morning and dinner every night, he left you little gifts around the house, and you still flinched and shied away whenever he was close.

“You do not have to do that, but I appreciate it” he said without looking at you.

“I suppose you are my husband, and you do so much for me, so I want to be more comfortable around you”.

You felt him lean his weight back against you without saying a word, but you saw the shift in his body language, the tension drop from his shoulders.

“If you are alright with it, may I hold you?” he asked.

You nodded against his shoulders.

Slowly he shifted to face you and pulled you against his chest so that you sat between his legs. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his forehead against the top of your head, his tusks brushing the sides of your head at this angle.

Being this close to him was weird feeling but not unpleasant. His size enveloped you completely and you could hear his heart racing with your head pressed to his chest. He smelled like incense and something warm and dark you could not place your finger on.

Once more you felt him nuzzling his face against you and you could hear a soft trilling sound, almost a purr from his chest.

“So, the nuzzling, does that have to do with all this?” you asked.

He froze, his face still pressed against you and the trilling stopped “Oh”.

“Oh?”

“I am sorry, it is just an impulse. I can stop” he apologized.

“It’s alright, I was just curious, you don’t have to stop”.

You felt him resume rubbing his face on your head and you hear the sound begin again.

“Trolls used to do this so that their partner would smell like them, though most of us do not have the actual ability to do it, but the impulse remains”.

You smiled into his chest, “You remind me of a big cat”.

“A cat? I do suppose that is rather fitting” you could hear his smile as he spoke.

“You even sort of purr like one” you teased.

“Ahh, that, yeah. I do not know exactly how or why exactly, but if I am happy and relaxed enough it happens”.

“So are you happy then?”

“More than I have been in many years”.

Part 6

[heartysworld]

Your Beauty Never Scared Me || Lucien x Reader

Your relationship with your future mother-in-law was not bad, but you knew she likes to keep her distance most of the time. You turned the corner of the big hallway, finding yourself in front of Lucien's chambers. His mother was outside, pacing in front of the doors. Tears were streaming down her face.

"My Lady, what is happening?" You asked worriedly.

"Oh Gods, they have ruined my boy, my beautiful boy." She sobbed sitting down on a chair, hands covering her face.

"Who and what have they done? Is Lucien okay?" You asked once again, kneeling before her shaking form.

"His brothers, they attacked Lucien on his way back from the training field. I am yet to seen him, all I was told is that the healer has been called and nobody is allowed in. I heard his screams, my boy was tearing the skies, his voice was full of so much pain." She said.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Lucien being attacked and injured. The situation in court wasn't the best but you never expected for it to go this bad. You could only hope that Lucien would be okay, that's all you cared about.

You and the youngest son of Autumn are about to be wed in less than a moon. Your father, one of Lord Beron's most trusted advisors, had long ago noticed your fondness of the red-haired Prince, and after a long discussion with the High Lord and his Council it was decided, you two were to be married. Lucien was happy, you were as well. After a long agonizing few hours of waiting in front of the door, the Lady of Autumn was finally allowed in. You couldn't hear much from the inside but one particular loud scream scared your soul away, making your heart beat even faster than it did before. What had they done to him?

Time passed before the wooden doors creaked open again. Slowly, her ladyship slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her back.

"Is he in a lot of pain? Will he be okay?" You asked with a worried expression.

"Listen, Y/N... what you're about to see... Nobody would blame you if you decide to annul the marriage proposal." She said making your heart stop, your face went completely pale.

"What... what are you talking about? I would never! I love Lucien I would never do such thing!" You exclaimed. You felt offended that anyone would ever think this way of you. Have your signs of affection not been enough.

"Listen, dear..." She started again but you couldn't listen to her any longer, you just wanted to see your fiancé.

Walking past her, you headed for the doors, pushing them open. You were met with complete darkness. The curtains were drawn, the door to the balcony was also closed. It felt more like a cave than a room.

"Who's there? Y/N?" A voice rasped from the darkness. You immediately recognized it as Lucien's.

You took a few steps closer to one of the windows, reaching for the blinds to pull them apart.

"No! Don't you dare!" Lucien hissed.

"Lucien, love, what happened?" You asked with concern, heading to his bed as you sat down on its edge. In the darkness, your hand managed to find his, giving it a light squeeze.

"I think you should leave, Y/N. I can't bear seeing the look on your face when you catch sight of what I've become." Lucien said, his voice raspy from all the screams he had let out not long ago.

"No... Lucien, I am not leaving, not now, not ever. Whatever happened, I am ready to endure it by your side. I am to be your wife, I will never leave you. Please, my love, let me see." You whispered. His desperation made you feel even worse, to think you'd leave him just like this.

You felt him move around in the bed. The only light in the room was coming from the opened door. Lucien slowly raised up his upper body, the lonely stream of light falling right on his face. What you saw made your eyes water like a waterfall, your hands went over your mouth while tears started falling down your cheeks.

His left eye was gone, the entire half of his face being covered in bandages that went all the way up into his hair down to his chin.

"I don't expect you to still want to give yourself to me." Lucien said, his hand never letting go of yours regardless of his words.

"Lucien, no, look at me," you said, when his head remained lowered you repeated your words, "look at me, Lucien!" You raised your voice.

Slowly his gaze met yours, his healthy eye was teary, ready to release its tears.

"I've loved you for so long, my love. Nothing could ever make me detest you, your looks are the least of my worries. You're the one I want to call my husband, the one whose children I want to carry and whose life I want to share. We will get through this together. I need you to speak to me, about everything, whatever you're feeling I want to know about it. That's the only way we could be able to handle every challenge fate throws at us." You said. Your free hand slowly laid on his cheek, feeling the coldness of his skin.

The two of you spent hours in his chambers, at one point he asked you to lay in bed with him. You nestled safely in his embrace, careful not to touch his face. The entire day was spent in bed, talking, you were even able to make him laugh twice, which made your heart flutter. A few kisses were exchanged as well, at the time night had fallen, Lucien was already asleep against your chest while you combed your hands through his beautiful white hair. He looked so peaceful when sleeping.

A quiet knock was heard, followed by the doors opening. The healer from earlier stood at the entrance of the room, a bag in his hand.

"It is time for me to change the Prince's bandages, my lady." The old man whispered.

You nodded slowly. With your hand on Lucien's back, you softly shook him awake, a quiet groan escaping from his mouth. He never liked being woken up.

"My love, it's time to clean your wounds. The healer is here, you must get up." You whispered against his forehead.

His body tensed when your words sank in. There was no way he could make you leave, you were going to see how damaged he was.

"It's okay, hey, I love you. I love you a lot." You said, cupping his cheek softly.

He nodded, slowly rising from the bed in a sitting position.

You followed the healer's every move, trying to memorize the process as much as possible so that whenever it was needed you could take care of your future husband as well.

It was nothing complicated, after a few tries you were confident in your skills and knowledge.

Lucien didn't complain, the opposite, he was actually glad that it was you who took over in taking care of him. He was always more comfortable in your presence and nothing could change that.

Years passed and your love for Lucien never disappeared, it became even stronger with each day. Drastic changes occured all around Prythian. Lucien was now the emissary of the Night Court, away from the wrath that used to rule his life. Beron was long dead, defeated by Eris after he tried to murder his mate as revenge.

Lucien still had his insecurities,but you spent every moment possible reminding him how much you loved him until every single ounce of doubt was gone from his mind.

You had recently given birth to your first child,a little girl who was the most precious angel ever. When Lucien held her for the first time you recognized the look on his face from that horrifying moment years ago. He was worried about his own daughter being repulsed by his appearance.

However, your little girl was all smiles and giggles. Whenever she was in her dad's arms she always wanted to look at his face, she was adorable and had him wrapped around her finger. You knew that your family would be fine,as long as there was love present.

If you're interested in more check HERE !

[sanyu-thewitch05]

I couldn't stop thinking about this, so, can you make a smut story with a yandere king x witch reader?

Sure!

A/N: Sorry if this is answered very late. School and work have been piling up.

TW: Smut, dubcon, manipulation

"What should we do with the king? His condition..." A royal advisor says, peeking into the room to see his majesty, King Ren, in a sickly state.

"Well, I suppose we must offer up someone to him as a sacrifice," The royal wizard replies, using his staff to conjure up a list of candidates. "We will hold an event where we say we're choosing the king's wife. No one must know our true intentions."

"Hey, Fredrick, what about the girl on the very bottom of the list? Why don't we choose her and kill two birds with one stone?" The king's head servant suggests, pointing at your picture.

"Y/N L/N. She is the daughter of our most troublesome and dangerous witch. If we offer her up, we don't have to worry about her following in her mother's footsteps and wreaking havoc," The royal wizard says, selecting your picture. "She should get a letter saying to come to the castle this night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mother, we got a letter from the royal palace requesting my presence," You say, sitting down at the dinner table.

"I wouldn't go. They'll probably kill you," Your mother replies, putting food on the table.

"Still, they're promising a hefty sum of money for my presence. We could turn this shack in the swamp into a beautiful mansion in the swamp. Plus, we could have extra room for Dad to stay in, instead of letting him roam the swamp," You suggest, giving your mom the letter.

"Alright, I'll let you go. But only if you take my satchel of potions, charms, and trinkets," Your mother replies, moving her dark green hair out of her face. "And put some seaweed from the estuary in your hair as a snack."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you fly to the castle, you see the royal advisor, the royal wizard, and the lead servant waiting for you on the front balcony.

"Welcome, Miss Y/N, we have been waiting to see you," Frederick greets, offering to take your broom.

"Ah, it's been about 14 years since I've seen you. Still remember you turning my dad into an alligator," You reply, giving him a passive-aggressive smile.

"Let's not focus on the past and bad times. You're here to help the king," Frederick responds, leading you to the king's bedroom.

When you reach the king's door, the wizard unlocks the chains wrapped around the door handles. They fall to the floor, and you open the door to the pitch-black, smelly, messy room. You walk inside, and the doors slam shut, and hear the sound of chains being put on.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!" You yell, banging on the door.

"I'm sorry, but it's the only way. Don't worry, you should survive him," Frederick says, standing guard outside the door.

"Open the damn door!" You shriek, trying to open the door.

Your ears become hot, and you feel someone's breath on your neck. You turn around and see the king in his twisted state. His skin is deathly pale, his veins are a glowing magenta, and the pupils in his violet eyes are hearts.

"King Ren?" You say, staring him in the eyes. "You seem quite ill."

"Wow, you're really pretty," Ren murmurs, his dry and cracked lips touching your neck.

You look at his nails and see they're overgrown, cracked, and yellow. The reality of your situation settles in, and you push him to the ground, and grab the lamp.

"Stay away from me! I don't want whatever sickness you have!" You yell, backing away to the other side of the room.

"I'm only sick with love for you," Ren says, crawling to you.

You pull open the curtains and curse at the sight of bars on the windows. You try to pull on the bars, but they don't budge. Before you could turn around to face the king, you feel his face in your ass.

"Hey!" You scream, pulling him out as he licks your pussy.

"Haha, you taste great," Ren says, pulling up your dress again.

"What the fuck is wrong with everyone in this castle?!" You yell, kicking him and keeping a leg on his chest.

"You're so beautiful. I promise I'll obey every command you give if you just let me kiss you once," Ren begs, still pulling up your dress. "You smell so good. Please tell me no one else has had you yet."

"Fine, I'll let you kiss me once and only once."

"I can do any type of kiss I want?"

"Sure, whatever type of kiss you want to do! Hell, you can kiss me wherever you want!"

"Great."

Ren stares at your pussy, then suddenly puts his mouth on your underwear. He groans in pleasure, using his tongue to slide your underwear aside, then sticking it inside you.

"Ooh-shit! When I said you could kiss me, I thought you meant above the waist!" You moan, letting your dress fall over his head.

Ren giggles, his tongue swirling around in your walls. His lips pucker up on your pussy lips, but they don't release. His do a sucking motion, driving you wild. The king grabs your ass and opens his mouth more.

"Ren, what are you doing?" You ask, trying to pull Ren's head off of you, only to have him spank your ass with both hands.

Ren's mouth is fully open, covering your whole pussy. His lips still suck on your pussy as his tongue pleasures you. As you moan through Ren's promised "kiss", his eyes become glazed over.

"Ren! Ren!" You moan, trying to keep yourself standing, but failing as your jelly legs stop working.

You fall to the floor, the king's lips still not letting go.

"Ren, I'm going to cum!" You yell, feeling yourself about to meet the limit. "Ah!"

Your cum flows straight into Ren's throat, and he generously accepts it, swallowing every drop. He pulls his tongue out and lets his mouth close so he can pucker his lips again. Ren removes his puckered lips, moving away from your pussy for just a brief second, only to give a quick smooch to your sensitive vagina. Your orgasm again, more cum flowing out of you, and he laps it all up.

"Now will you please tell me what's going on?" You pant, sitting up and looking at the king.

"You see, I was cursed to fall madly in love with the first person I see. Nothing more, nothing less. Now then, are you going to kiss me back? You surely didn't think a kiss from the king would be free?" Ren says, unbuckling his pants. "Pucker up those lips, sweetie."

His wide, lengthy, cock dangles in front of your face,twitching-begging to be touched. You give one small smooch to its tip, and Ren's eyes focus on you as if he's expecting more.

You move to his balls and kiss both of them, getting a small grunt out of him. You go to his shaft and begin kissing your way up his dick. His cock twitches as you do so, and his eyes start to become cross-eyed.

"T-That's right, sweetie. Kiss your beloved king's cock," Ren moans, his ass tightening.

When you kiss his tip again, you open your mouth slightly and lick it. Your lips finish kissing his cock with a pop, then he forces your mouth open and ejaculates all of his precious, royal, sperm into your gullet. You swallow his thick cum, and he lifts you onto the bed.

"Frederick, open the doors and bring the finest of toys! My beloved and I need some more time together!" Ren yells, a hand moving your panties down.

The doors open, and Frederick comes in and sees you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sweetie, now that we've got all of our urges out, do you want to have a dinner date with me? Oh, what am I saying? Of course, you're going on a dinner date with me. If you didn't then I'd kill everyone in this castle, and it would be all your fault," Ren says, giving you a hickey on your shoulder.

"Please, don't hurt anyone," You beg, your body too tired from satisfying the king's urges.

"I won't sweetheart, as long as you obey me," Ren replies, leaning down and kissing your lips.

How deplorable. How disgusting. How could a kiss cause so much chaos?

[ruinofchimera]

Please tell us more about Voldemort's relationship with Severus, and why you think it differs so much from Voldemort's other relationships

Whatever it is that lingers between Tom and Severus—power, manipulation, some dark bond none of us can fully grasp—it naturally ignites chaos in the mind of the beholders. And if you’re eager to feel that burn, I’ll gladly embrace you in it. To you brave, reckless souls, I say this: your wish is my command.

So, here we are, picking apart how Severus Snape—mudblood, poor, and bruised from the heavy hand of a Muggle father—managed to land himself a spot at the table with the most rabid pack of blood purists you’ve ever seen. A table, mind you, he had no business sitting at. The Death Eaters, that tight little clique of privileged purebloods, had no real reason to let in this scruffy little outsider. Sure, Snape was useful. Very useful. His skills were sharp as knives, and he could do their dirty work, get his hands filthy so they didn’t have to. But useful doesn’t mean welcome. Useful doesn’t mean accepted. You know who else was useful? Fenrir Greyback and his mangy lot. They brought terror to the doorsteps of half the wizarding world, and did Voldemort’s cause no small service. But did they get a place at the inner circle? Did they get respect? Hell no. They were the dirt beneath the boots of the real Death Eaters. Useful filth. And then there’s Snape, embodying everything these purists claim to despise—a half-blood with a tainted surname, living in squalor, dragged through the muck by a Muggle brute of a father. By all accounts, Death Eaters should have spat in his face and tossed him out like yesterday’s rubbish. But no. Not only does he get a seat at the table, he rises. He’s placed on a pedestal, standing closer to Voldemort than some of the most loyal, purest-blooded lackeys in the room. Voldemort, in all his cold-blooded glory, didn’t just tolerate Severus. He raised him up, right in front of their sneering, offended faces. Now, here’s where it gets really interesting. If you think Voldemort did this out of some sense of gratitude, you’ve missed the point entirely. Tom Riddle doesn’t do gratitude. That kind of sentiment is beneath him, an alien concept. Voldemort doesn’t reward; he uses. Deeds done in his name are expected, not appreciated. You’re not going to get a pat on the back from a man who thinks the world owes him its loyalty. Snape’s service should’ve earned him nothing more than a brief reprieve from pain. A loosening of the noose around his neck, if he was lucky. That’s Voldemort’s way—keep them all desperate, keep them all afraid. So why did Snape, of all people, get raised up? Why did he, the least likely among them, become a favorite?

Mind, it’s not just me declaring Snape as Voldemort’s favorite. That dark, twisted bond is laced into nearly every interaction between the two, as if something unspoken and festering passes between them. But it’s Narcissa Malfoy who lays it bare. A woman born into the highest echelons of pure-blood privilege, the very foundation on which Voldemort’s so-called supremacy stands, doesn’t hesitate when she calls him “the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor.” Let that sink in.

Here is the wife of Lucius Malfoy, a man whose lineage is steeped in the darkest of traditions. But when her family’s future is on the edge of a wand, when her son’s life dangles by a thread, she doesn’t rely on Lucius, doesn’t turn to Bellatrix. No, she comes to Severus, because deep down, she knows. They all do.

It’s something more insidious, something that slips through the cracks in the floorboards of Voldemort’s ideology. He is the one Voldemort trusts, the one Voldemort leans on, the one whose counsel can shift the dark winds of fate. That is real power, raw and untouchable. Narcissa sees it—how could she not? Even with all her aristocratic pride, even with the weight of her name and her family’s legacy pressing down on her, she understands that none of it means a damn thing next to what Snape has. Narcissa, with her family’s long, proud heritage, has to grovel before someone who, by the very logic of Voldemort’s cause, should be inferior. But Snape is different, and everyone knows it. They may not say it, they may not even want to admit it, but they know. He operates outside the lines, above the fray, immune to the very rules that were meant to keep people like him down. Snape, the half-blood, the one with the muddied past, holds a kind of sway that no one else in Voldemort’s ranks can claim.

Oh, there comes the bitter irony of Peter Pettigrew. After years of scraping and groveling, thinking he’d earned his place in the Dark Lord’s favor, Peter is handed over like a rag for Severus to wring out. Peter, one of the smug Marauders who’d gleefully hounded Snape through school, reduced now to something just shy of a house-elf, bowing and cringing under Snape’s very roof. A cruel twist of fate, no doubt arranged with Voldemort’s signature malevolence. Was this some attempt to plant a spy in Snape's house? Maybe, if you take it at face value. But think for a moment—Voldemort, who couldn’t pry Snape's treachery from his skull with all the power of Legilimency, putting his trust in Wormtail to do the job? The rat that couldn't outsmart a dormitory prank, never mind a master of deception like Severus?

No, this isn’t espionage; this is karma. Cruel, twisted karma orchestrated by the Dark Lord himself. You can almost picture Severus watching Peter scuttle about his house, casting him those withering, superior glances—knowing full well that Tom has given him this indulgence, this little taste of vengeance. Snape treats Wormtail with open contempt, because he knows he can. He knows it’s allowed, expected even. It’s as if the tables have turned in the most bitter of ways, a humiliating reversal of fortune. Pettigrew, who once revelled in Snape’s humiliation, now reduced to the lowest of roles, while Snape—Voldemort’s golden boy—sits at the top. Isn’t it delicious? You’d have to be blind to chalk it up to coincidence. Moreover, Pettigrew’s fate is all the proof you’ll ever need that Voldemort’s rule isn’t founded on something as simple or sentimental as loyalty. Loyalty? Sacrifice? Please. Pettigrew’s life was one long, groveling act of desperation to stay in the Dark Lord’s good graces. You bring your master back from the brink of death itself, and still, all you get is contempt. Voldemort demands service, sure. But service? Guarantees nothing. And when you set Severus and Peter side by side, the question gnaws at you. Why? Why is Snape the favored one, the exception, the enigma in Voldemort’s otherwise brutal, predictable hierarchy? What makes him different? There’s something between them—something that doesn’t follow the usual logic of power and punishment. Voldemort doesn’t just tolerate Snape’s defiance; he rewards it, bends the system to accommodate it. Something unspoken, something hidden behind the masks they both wear, grants Snape a level of favor that Pettigrew could only dream of.

What’s crucial to grasp here is that Voldemort doesn’t spare anyone. His entire ideology is rooted in cruelty, in domination, in the ruthless obliteration of all who oppose him. He doesn’t just eliminate enemies; he obliterates them, wipes them from existence without a second thought. And yet, here’s the anomaly: Lily Evans, mother of Harry Potter, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a Muggle-born witch, is offered a chance to live. Live. This decision, however, is directly tied to Snape. Snape had begged Voldemort to spare her, and it is this plea—Snape’s plea—that softens the Dark Lord’s otherwise unyielding cruelty.

To truly grasp the enormity of this act, we need to take a step back and consider Snape’s position in all of this. Remember, Severus was just 21 years old when he found himself pleading with Voldemort, one of the most dangerous dark wizard in history, to spare Lily Evans.

Snape wasn’t the imposing, confident figure we often associate with him thanks to Alan Rickman’s performance—he wasn’t a man exuding quiet menace, seemingly capable of standing toe-to-toe with Voldemort. No, at this point in canon, he was barely more than a boy, a young man fresh out of Hogwarts, with no powerful lineage or wealth to protect him.

And yet, despite this—despite the sheer imbalance of power between them—Snape dared to approach Voldemort. Voldemort. With a plea. Not for himself, but for a Muggle-born witch. At best, Snape’s request might have been laughed off, dismissed as the desperate wish of a foolish young Death Eater. But it wasn’t. For some reason, Voldemort didn’t just tolerate Snape’s plea—he actually acted on it.

Consider how critical this moment was to Voldemort’s larger agenda. At the heart of his entire scheme is a singular, consuming fixation: the annihilation of the child prophesied to be his undoing. Harry Potter is Voldemort’s obsession, the one threat he must eliminate to secure his dominion. The Potters were no longer just enemies—they were the key to his future, and Harry was the focus of his most crucial mission. In this context, sparing anyone even remotely connected to Harry was an extraordinary risk. Leniency wasn’t just unnecessary—it was dangerous. By showing mercy to Lily, Voldemort risked undermining his own carefully constructed agenda. And this wasn’t a moment where Voldemort could afford to make mistakes.

This unprecedented act of “mercy,” this concession Voldemort granted Snape, became the very thing that led to his downfall. Had Voldemort simply killed Lily Evans on the spot, as he did James, she would never have had the chance to sacrifice herself for Harry. The protection her sacrifice invoked—the ancient magic that saved Harry’s life and turned Voldemort’s killing curse back on him—would never have existed. Voldemort, the cold strategist, fell because he didn’t bend for anyone—except, inexplicably, for Snape. And that single, dangerous deviation cost him everything. That’s how it’s all started.

And there it is— how it’s all ends. Voldemort’s final words to Severus Snape before he executes him. But pay attention to how he begins. “Clever man,” he calls him. He suggests that Snape might’ve already known the truth of the Elder Wand’s treachery. Tom would never acknowledge someone’s cleverness if it undermined his own intellectual abilities. If he implies that Snape may have already unraveled the mystery of the Elder Wand, it undoubtedly indicates that Voldemort had recognized Snape’s crucial role in the wand’s problems long before. It’s not just idle chatter or casual flattery. No, it’s a bloody confirmation that Voldemort himself had long ago pieced together the mystery of Snape’s involvement with the wand. This wasn’t some last-minute realization that forced his hand. It wasn’t ignorance that delayed Snape’s death, not at all. It was deliberation. Voldemort, for all his cruelty, wasn’t stupid. He suspected, long before that moment, that Snape was at the center of the problem with the wand’s loyalty. He just chose not to act on it until the very last moment.

He held back from executing him, searching for any other way around the wand’s limitations, trying to find a solution that didn’t involve killing Snape. But when it came down to it, when all other options were exhausted, Voldemort finally made his move.

And what does he do? He delivers a speech. A bloody speech, full of regret and excuses—“I regret what must happen.” Does that sound like the Voldemort we know? The Dark Lord who kills without a second thought, who carves his empire from the bones of the disobedient? Hell no. This is the man who thrives on fear, on swift, brutal punishment. And yet, here he is, delivering justifications like some guilty executioner. This isn’t Voldemort’s usual method. This isn’t the whip coming down fast and hard. This is something altogether more… hesitant.

That speech, soaked in rationalizations, tells us everything we need to know. Snape’s death wasn’t just business—it was personal. It’s a messy, ugly end to the unexplainable dynamic between them. Even at the very end, Voldemort is bending, twisting, trying to justify his actions to the one man who had managed to worm his way under his skin. And in that second, we see something rare—a glimpse of the complexity in their relationship. Voldemort’s usual ruthless efficiency is absent.

His “I regret it,” spoken once more, stands out like a blade in the gut, sharp and unexpected, slicing straight through Voldemort’s usual cold indifference. The Dark Lord, who has never spared a thought for the wreckage in his wake, lets these words hang in the air, unnatural as they are. A man who’s never known the weight of remorse now offers something that almost feels like regret. Not true regret, of course—Voldemort doesn’t have the luxury of feeling something so weak, so human. But still, It’s not a sentiment he offers to anyone else. It’s almost as if Voldemort doesn’t know how to process this lingering attachment, as though Snape’s mere existence demands something from him that Voldemort is incapable of giving. Snape occupies some strange corner of Voldemort’s mind, twisted and dark it may be, that not even the Dark Lord himself seems to understand. Despite the fact that I’ve painted a whole canvas of tangled thoughts on the strange relationship between Severus and Tom, I’ve barely begun to tug at the thread of their inexplicable dynamic. There’s so much more I could unearth, layers of intrigue and tension that ripple through every scene between them, and I could easily go on for hours about the small, delicious details woven into their story. But, as it happens, my full-time job is already sharpening its knife and aiming for my back, so I'll have to bring this whole saga to a close with the following quote:

For me, the intensity of this scene speaks volumes about their relationship, capturing the very essence of what makes these two so bloody fascinating. The way their gaze alone can make Death Eaters flinch under the weight of their unspoken understanding. It’s not fear, not exactly. It’s something colder, something deeper. As though they’re witnessing a bond forged in the dark, a grim understanding that none of them can ever be a part of.

That’s what keeps dragging me back to these two. The tension, the labyrinth of contradictions, the complex tangle of manipulation. I want to look away—hell, I should look away, just like the Death Eaters did. But there’s something about it, something that coils around me, tightening like a serpent’s embrace. Can you blame me?

[sorcerousundries]

If you're taking requests, could you please write something about which Lotr and The Hobbit characters would be most attracted to a reader who's really intelligent and good at debating them? Like I'm picturing a sort of Rivals to Lovers dynamic where the reader is super smart and really good at arguing their points, but I'm curious which Tolkien characters you think would be most into that type of partner 🤔

I can totally picture Eomer falling for a person like that because he honestly seems perfect for Enemies to Lovers arcs, but tldr what Tolkien characters do you think would be most attracted to a super intelligent person who could debate them into the dirt? Thanks!

I have been alone all my life but with the compensations of intellect.

Lord of the rings and The hobbit characters react to an intelligent reader

Warnings: none

Includes: Elrond, Thranduil, Gimli and Éomer

A/n: thank you for your request <3

Content under the cut

Elrond — Friends to lovers

You and Elrond would meet in a fairly formal setting, maybe during a business gathering or a dinner of sorts.

You would be chatting with some high noble who would introduce you to lord Elrond and the two of you clicked immediately.

He would often invite you for tea and insist you stay for dinner, maybe offering you a bed as the hour gets later.

He is knowledgeable about history, lore and the affairs between both men and elves alike, he would likely be drawn to someone he can engage deeply in discussions of middle earths past, present and future.

The debates between you and lord Elrond would be competitive but friendly, if he lost he would shrug it off, the pinnacle of healthy masculinity. If he won, he wouldn’t care, maybe tease you if your friendship started to grow closer but never in a cruel, condescending way.

He would grow feelings slowly yet steadily, he would never force himself on you but he couldn’t deny the flutter of his heart whenever you’d smirk triumphantly as besting him during a debate of which medicine would be best to use for a rope burn, the simple action making his heart warm.

As your relationship turns romantic your playful banter wouldn’t stop, it would only grow, turning into silly debates before bed as you two move in chorus around the bedroom, performing your separate night routines though you’d never allow the room to grow silent as you chat about whatever topic comes to mind.

Overall he’d enjoy having a partner that he could chat away with, it’s rare that he finds someone who equals his intelligence, let alone best it.

Thranduil — Shared traumas

Thranduil would likely already be acquainted with you, after all the king knows everything that happens in his kingdom.

Though he only started to cultivate a relationship with you when you outwitted him in his own throne room, for the first time a millennium the king of the woodland realm was left speechless, you intrigued him, instead of sending you away he invited you to join him in his study.

The debates between you two would be filled with romantic tension, heated discussions would be filled with you leaned so forward your nose would also my be touching his, as you did something that countered his you would pull back, thoughts of how his eyes would dart down to your lips so quick you almost didn’t see it would flood your brain.

He would love discussing battle strategies and such, even better if an elf and you saw the battle for yourself.

Nothing pleases him more than falling back on you when he doubts his leadership skills, after having to listen to courtiers and advisors drone on about their ideas and excuses, he can go to and simply sit across the room as you answer his questions logically, not even looking up from your book.

Your relationship would start to turn romantic when he confided in you about his troubles, his worries for his son, even telling you about the death of his wife.

And who knows, maybe he’ll pull you in for a kiss before you turn in for the night.

Gimli — opposites attract

Gimli would first see you at the court of Elrond, during the forming of the fellowship.

He never thought his heart would lurch from his chest when he saw an elf sitting at lord Elrond side, chin held high and regal.

Not even his admiration for lady Galadriel could compare to the way his heart jumped at the sight of you.

While he’s not typically seen as a debater, Gimli has a strong sense of pride surrounding his culture and way of life, he would be drawn to someone who can engage in conversation about dwarven history and culture with him.

He would hold an immense level of respect for you, often coming to you to double check any technical blueprints or a different perspective if he’s struggling to visualise how something would come together. He would appreciate someone who can offer unbiased opinions not swayed by any existing rivalry between elves and dwarves.

Any debates with him would lively and high spirited,he would engage enthusiastically defending his views with passion and light hearted humour, your discussions could range from history and craftsmanship to the simple differences between elves and dwarves.

He would let out a small “oh!” As you kiss him on the cheek, nodding him a farewell after helping him find scrolls about an ancient smithing technique, his smile turning his eyes into slights as he pumps his fist once you’ve turned your back.

Eomer — Enemies to lovers

Eomer would find your intelligence intriguing and infuriating at the same time.

His warrior ideals and loyalty to Rohan would initially clash with your more logical approach to things, your debates would arise over strategies in battle most likely.

Early on in your relationship, misunderstandings were the main fuel to your bitter relationship. Your critical views on his leadership or warfare would be interpreted as disrespect, driving a wedge between you two.

But as the power of Sauron grows, you’re forced to put your differences aside.

He would begrudgingly admit that you’re actually very useful in a fight, offering new ideas that contrast his own.

However one night as your both sat around the fire, when every other solider has turned in for the night, he might open up, revealing to you his fears about not being a good leader, you in turn offer him insights and philosophical perspectives that resonate with him.

He thinks about the conversation when he nods silently before sauntering off to his tent, laying in bed staring up at the white linen cloth of his tent, the words he forgets as he slowly realises he in-fact wasn’t listening to your words, instead focusing on the curve of your lips and the brush of your eyelashes against your cheeks every time you blinked, the way your eyes gleamed as the fire crackled.

He frowns as the words “oh shit, I’m in love with them” echoed in his inner monologue.

He doesn’t tell you through words rather showing you, right before the rohirrims marched to Gondor he would give you heated kiss, displaying not his passion as a warrior, but as a lover.

[extra-v1rgin]

The reader is a wolf hybrid written with a vagina and breasts, I don’t think there’s any direct references to gender.

Contains: Mentions of previous poor living conditions, Imprisonment (sex doesn’t occur while reader is directly imprisoned), Cunnilingus, Vaginal fingering, Vaginal Intercourse, Groping.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

“Criminal case number forty-seven.” The chains around your hands clink loudly as a guard drags you forward. “The defendant has repeatedly robbed several stands throughout the capital. Jail time has had no effect and we seek more severe punishment.”

You keep your eyes on the ground. Without your comfortable cloak you feel exposed. The fur on your arms stands on end. Your hideous appearance is revealed in the scrappy prison clothes you wear. You suppose you really do look like some sort of criminal now.

“Are you a kobold?” A loud voice rings out. The words bounce around the ornate room until they burns your ears.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to dignify his idiotic question with a response. The crown king or prince or whatever should just sentence you to death by hanging and leave you be.

The guard to your left smacks the back of your head. “Answer,” he commands gruffly.

“I’m not.” You mumble the words so softly you’re sure you’ll just be reprimanded again but the quiet words appear to be satisfactory.

“Beastkin then? Or some kind of-“

“Laios focus on your duties!”

Your eyes flick upwards to watch the… advisor or confidant- you can’t pay attention to the intricacies of royal life -scold the king. They exchange quiet words that even your sensitive ears can’t make out. When the conversation ends you bow your head once more.

“We’ll keep her in the barracks for further investigation.”

Your ears twitch but otherwise you don’t react. Music sounds from your restraints again, jingling as you’re dragged off.

—-

The cells in the castle aren’t much nicer than any of the others you’ve been in. Most are relatively similar other than the temperature inside. You’re warm here at least which is better than the wooden walls that let in every gust of wind back on the outskirts of town.

The guards are the same, quiet and rude.

You sit around for 3 days in absolute silence. All the other cells are far away enough that you don’t know who else is kept locked up. The only sounds you hear are footsteps from the floor above and murmurs from the guards. They probably think they’re being quiet but you can still hear everything the pair is saying. Mostly it’s useless gossip. You now know all about who’s fucking who and who slacks off and who is stealing extra portions at dinner.

Every once in a while you hear a murmur about the king. There’s so many rumors about him that you don’t know what to believe. You can trust the guards a little bit more but nothing they say is useful in any way.

“The guy’s fucking weird, friends are too.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s been through fifty chefs at this point. All the food tastes fine but he fires them after one week.”

“We get to eat some exotic shit though.”

“Damn right.”

All you get is the same bowl of porridge three times a day. For dinner there’s two dry slices of beef to accompany the slop. You treasure the meat though. Even if everything tastes the same having protein is a gift. You chew it slowly as if you can pull any kind of flavor out of it.

You don’t know why you’re here. You’ve already been tried for execution twice and it’s likely the third time will be the charm. It’s a miracle you’ve kept your hands this long. Most dogs get put down after their first bite.

—-

By the fifth day the guards have gotten bored enough to bother you. Their swords clang against your door. “Are you awake?”

You don’t answer but they peak through the slot in the door. “Hello? You got hearing problems?”

“No way she does, her ears are fucking giant.”

“Whaddo you think she is?”

“Why the fuck would I know? Maybe some kind of beastkin or an ogre or something.”

“How dumb are you? That’s not what ogres look like.”

While their focus turns away from you, you shrink against the wall. Your appearance has often been debated and you’ve heard just about every comparison by now. With how much you’ve heard about ogres you thought they might not mind your circumstances but they found you too human. Now you exist in a limbo with no race to call home. Even your own mother discarded you.

They murmur about a wide variety of monsters. Even you don’t recognize most of the things they list. For a place devoid of monsters the guards seem to know a lot about them.

—-

Someone slams their fists against your cell. As his face comes into view a short guard reveals himself. His nose is big and his neck is skinny. It reminds you of a bird. In response your stomach growls.

“Hands against the wall.” You obey wordlessly. There’s no point in delaying your death another day.

“You better thank the divine or whatever you believe in. His Majesty wants a personal interview before sending you to the gallows.” He laughs at the end. Though you can’t do much to retaliate a harsh growl scares him for a moment. He slaps you afterwards but it doesn’t hurt much. His hands are strangely thin. It only adds to the bird imagery.

You follow the man with a wide smile. He complains about your fangs but that only makes your mouth open wider. You run your tongue over your sharpest canines.

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’ll be a dead bitch by the end of the day.”

You’re not smiling about any supposed freedom, it’s just fun to watch his eyes trace your teeth. Will the king react the same? Too many stories go around to know if he’s actually a brave hero or another coward hiding behind fables.

When you enter he looks much less extravagant than he did a few days ago. The lion-skin cloak is gone from his shoulders. A crown sat atop is head but it was a plain band of gold. You still admired how it shined in the low light of the room.

You’re still trying to figure out what you think of the man when the guards leave and you’re left alone.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Laios extends his hand but you ignore it. You keep your eyes pointed at the table now. He should just drag you towards the guillotine and have it over with.

The man seems unperturbed and smiles widely at you.

“Oh and you shouldn’t worry about… dying or anything.” He pulls an odd face that isn’t quite a frown. “We’re all about rehabilitation here- or well it depends, but mostly rehabilitation yes.”

“So you’re gonna give me a job cleaning up shit or something?”

“Probably not, Marcille handles that kind of thing though. The job assigning I mean. She’s very good at it.”

You go quiet again. You’re not sure why the king has to be involved in something as simple as this. He speaks very casually but appearance wise does give off an air of royalty.

As the silence stretches on for a bit too long before Laios takes it as a cue to open his mouth again. “I’m interested in your heritage, if you’ll share. I meant to ask if you were beastkin earlier but I didn’t get an answer!” His eyes light up and you find yourself caught off guard. Usually the people who take interest in you do it for less than honest reasons. Laios hasn’t completely ruled out that possibility but his innocent look does relax you slightly.

“Ah well I don’t really know the full story.” Your mother had barely ever spoken to you about anything, much less your progenitors. “My mother was one, a beastkin. She was a werewolf. I don’t know about my father though.”

“Amazing! I didn’t know beastkin could have children. We’ll have to write to Izutsmi.” He stands up, knocking his chair backwards. Quickly the man crosses over to you. He easily towers over you. The eyes of his lion cape look down on you in judgement. “Can I ask you a few more questions?” He’s growing loud, almost shouting.

“Maybe.” Laios is making a mad dash back towards creepy territory but he still looks rather excited so you push down the feeling.

“Can I see your hands?”

This time you do extend just one. He cradles it for a moment, twisting your wrist and curling your fingers. It’s such a delicate touch. You’ve never had someone hold you without intending to hurt.

Laios’s thumb glides over the thick skin of your palm. “It’s like a paw pad,” he murmurs. You’re glad that he doesn’t mind your silence. As he moves upwards to trace over your nails, claws, you wince. They’re brittle and chipped in some places. Overall they have a strange stripped texture that looks hideous.

“Are they good for digging?” The question catches you so off guard you stifle a laugh.

“I dunno. I’ve never tried… I guess they’re good a tearing through wood though.” Not enough to escape any kind cell of course, but enough to piss off the guards.

“Ah that’s clever!” There’s a lot of firsts happening today. You can’t remember receiving any compliment without a sarcastic undertone spoiling it. It makes your cheeks burn a little but you try to will the feeling away.

Without asking, though honestly you don’t care, his hands trace their way higher up. Laios runs his fingers through the short fur on your forearm. “The color matches your hair, though the texture is a little different.” To confirm he plants a hand on your head, right between your ears. Immediately they flatten while a growl bursts out from your chest. “Sorry.” He pulls back with a sheepish look. “Does that happen instinctually?”

“Usually… sometimes I know why but sometimes it just happens I guess.” Slowly your ears rise back up as his hand lowers.

“If I ask can I touch your ears?” Immediately they flatten again.

“No!” It’s a commanding tone that comes out louder than you intend. There’s a hint of embarrassment but Laios doesn’t look bothered so it quickly fades.

“Your tail?”

It curls around your hips protectively. If you keep saying no will he get violent? Is your death still set in stone? Getting friendly with a king might not be such a bad idea.

“Just the tip of it.” Slowly your tail sticks out to the side. As he approaches it you hold your breath.

“Ah it’s so soft!” He pinches some of the fur between two of fingers. “Does it feel nice?”

“It feels… fine.” It’s like someone petting your hands. The sensation itself is calming though.

He continues on this path for a while. Laios comments on your inhuman features with fascination and listens when you tell him no. When you don’t allow him to measure your tongue or poke his fingers into your ears he happily moves on to another aspect of your canine features.

You’re still debating if his interest in you is flattering or creepy when the king finally seems to tire himself out. Actually one of his attendants knocks softly on the door and Laios wilts. You’re happy to have his hands off you but overall the experience was not entirely unpleasant.

Afterwards you’re brought back to the chilly prison with snarky guards but you carry the warmth from your meeting.

—-

After your third meeting you get moved from the prison to a proper room. It’s still solitary with a guard outside your door but it’s nicer than anywhere else you’ve ever been. The bed is plush and soft. Since you first ran your hands over it you’ve picked up the habit of sleeping nude. People knock properly before entering now and fur covers most of your back.

While you don’t sleep longer you do sleep better. One hour in a huge bed with an actual mattress gives you better sleep than you’ve had in your entire life.

The meals you eat are filling and delicious. You can’t help but scarf them down as quickly as possible. Somewhere in the back of your mind you regret not savoring the food but you can’t help yourself.

The guards are just as rude, seemingly aware of how you first came to the castle. You don’t necessarily expect any better but it does sour the extravagance of everything else.

In between meetings with Laios you stay tucked away in your room. Whenever you leave people narrow their eyes as you pass. The hallways are too confusing and there’s nothing to do anyways. If you don’t have to steal and scrounge around for food you’re happy to laze about. Everything you need is within reasonable distance.

When you do meet with Laios the meetings stretch to be longer. He always seems to find new questions to ask you, rarely repeating asks you’ve already turned down.

If you need breaks between the man counting tufts of fur and measuring the growth of your claws he agrees. Though even when you eat or simply rest in the silence golden eyes observe you intently.

“Can you eat raw meat?” He easily interjects in the middle of a quiet meal.

As with many of his questions you don’t know the answer. You admit the truth sheepishly each time but he accepts your answer.

“If I bring you some will you try it?”

“Maybe…” Your nose twitches at the thought. It can’t be any worse than rotten meat and that didn’t taste half bad either.

—-

Looking forward to your meetings with Laios is an awful thing. He brings you divine food (At least raw meet agrees surprisingly well with your tastebuds) and a few gifts even if they’re thinly veiled things to test you with. You go through a few different physicals, one by an actual doctor, and general trials. Laios makes bold comments about your natural strength and other physical characteristics. It gives you a rather big head.

His questions get a little bolder but after your thirty-fifth bubble bath you’re a little more lenient with what you allow. If he wants to check your ears or count your teeth then you’re happy to allow him.

The whole time Laios’s interest in you was purely based on your characteristics. Some might’ve considered him rude— he had barely asked you any personal questions after all —you liked his open attitude. A few humans had had an interest in your form, though for less strange purposes (or possibly more strange depending on how you looked at it). Though rather than approaching you openly most resorted to tricks or sly words. It made your stomach twist uncomfortable.

Laios was earnest. If he wanted to measure your feet and stride you knew there wasn’t an ulterior motive. It made complying with his requests easier despite how strange they got.

That was perhaps your downfall. Questions got more wild though you knew the reasoning was the same. Once he had asked to measure your tongue, insistent that it looked longer than any human-races. He hand crammed his fingers into your mouth, oddly stroking the wet muscle.

“Do my fingers taste weird? Do you think you’d ever eat a human?” You couldn’t answer with his rough fingertips still tracing your tastebuds.

“Ha your tongue is longer! I wonder if your vocal cords are different too. Kobolds have trouble speaking the common language because of it. Though your speech sounds fine.” While he speaks his fingers slip from your mouth. His hand traces your neck, skimming over your Adam’s apple.

You smack your lips a few times to get the taste of skin out of your mouth. It didn’t taste good or bad (well maybe it was a little bad), just strange.

“Do you want a drink?” Laios hardly looks guilty as he offers you a cup to cleanse your tastebuds. The tangy juice is a welcome change.

“Is that all?” The man tries not to subject you to more than one or two strange requests a day. You haven’t been out long but you’d be surprised if he asked for another odd exploration.

He looks a little disappointed now, as he always does at the end of your meetings. Still he excuses you with a wave of his hand and a small nod.

—-

Laios does not call on you for almost a week, a strange break in your schedule. While your visits are not always daily they happen at least twice a week. The king’s curiosity is never-ending. Though you wonder if he has finally asked all his questions.

You’re hesitant to leave your room, and instead find ways to entertain yourself inside. There are a few books with simple enough language that you can read them. You’re happy to take bathes and sleep to fill up the rest of your time, but admittedly you miss your meetings. Faintly you’re aware of the great power Laios holds over you as a king but he’d also the only man that hasn’t turned his nose down at you. Even with the upgrade in your residence the guards still snicker and sneer when they near you.

You’re awfully bored without him as a companion. In the end books aren’t very entertaining and taking too many baths makes your fur dry. The lack of contact with others drives you to taunt the guards. It created a nice distraction right up until they stopped responding at all.

So when the man finally shows onto your room you nearly leap into his arms. You hope your excitement isn’t too obvious.

Laios enters your room fully, closing the door behind him. He’s oddly quiet and the guards outside your door have been dismissed. “Is it alright if I sit?” He moves to rest at the edge of your bed. The man wears a serious expression but he sinks deeply into your soft mattress.

You struggle to think of what could have the normally cheerful man so quiet. His lips press together into a sharp line. “I have been very glad to have you indulge my questions… Though I believe that they’ve all been answered. I think Marcille is mad at me for letting you stay here so long.” His eyes don’t quite meet your face. Your ears flatten as you realize what he implies.

“I see.” Your disappointment is plain. You barely try to hide it though you feel a bit foolish for growing so comfortable. “Though I’m surprised you quieted your curiosity.” It’s a bad attempt at lightening the mood. Laios reacts strangely, staring resolutely at the floor.

You aren’t particularly good at reading others but the quiet here is like whispering in your ear. “Or you have found someone else to aim your questions at?” The idea doesn’t quite hit its mark. Laios responds much too openly.

“Ah no. Most people just get angry at me.” He looks very sad about it and you find yourself caring too much. You almost ask him to visit but that is much too forward. It’s more likely you will skip town and find another place to get arrested.

“Right well… I am glad you’ve told me in person.” The words sound lame. It’s not a proper goodbye.

Laios still doesn’t move. He seems comfortable in your bed. You would rather be the one sitting but you don’t want to move too close.

“I have… I have more questions truthfully, but I don’t think you would want to answer them.”

You blink. “I have answered them so far haven’t I?”

“Marcille scolds me for being too open. If she knew what I wanted to ask I’m sure she’d curse me.”

You stifle a laugh. “Most others would already considered my virtue compromised. I don’t think I had any in the first place.” Even as a theif you are aware of how people gossip. Whether you are a vagrant or a peasant little will change others view of you.

It takes you a moment but you gather all the maturity within yourself. “I’m happy to go, but you should not let others decide what I will be comfortable with.”

“I’m sure you’ll be mad.”

“Well I’m often mad so that’s fine.”

Laios’s shoulders relax and you’re sure he’ll ask another question of you.

—-

You stand nude. It’s more embarrassing than you expected. For all your criminal activity you’ve never been convicted for public nudity. Even on the rare occasions you’ve been observed naked it wasn’t as if the observer had any interest in you. Usually they were simply kicking you out of a bathhouse or spare room you tucked yourself into.

“There’s no fur on your stomach!” Laios in all his excitement forgets to ask before placing his hand over the area. The temperature difference pushes a weird noise from your throat. His hand is large, it covers half your skin. “Does it just not grow there?”

You struggle to respond. Laios looks at you with no issue but you feel… shy. Maybe for the first time in your life.

“Y-yea. It’s like that on my face and feet too.”

“I noticed that too. Isn’t it funny that plenty of humans grow hair one their faces but you don’t?” He has a strange idea of what funny is. You offer a tight smile and he seems satisfied by the reaction.

Laios finally takes his hand off your stomach. The skin there tingles in the aftermath.

“D-do you…” For the first time ever Laios looks embarrassed himself.

Encouraging him may be a bad idea but you urge him on cautiously. “It’s ok, you can ask.”

“I got yelled at last time.” The man scratches his head. “How many-“ he mumbles the last bit, “-nipples do you have?”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. Your face ignites in embarrassment and indigence.

“I-I’m asking because most animals have multiple! Even minotaurs have four. I mean you’re already naked.” At the reminder you’re quick to hold an arm over your breasts.

“Just the two… sorry.”

Laios does look slightly disappointed. “Your reproductive system is probably more similar to a humans. If you’re only having one or two kids at a time then that would make sense.” His eyes trace over your stomach again. It’s like he had x-ray vision.

The man stops touching you, instead walking around your entire body. He circles you four or five times. When he dips around your back you focus to make sure your tail stays still.

The appendage keeps lifting up and to the side. Once you noticed it you had tried your best to stop the behavior, but unless you focused on your tails actions it tended to move on its own.

Laios, as observant as always, notices. “Your tail does some funny things! I grew up with dogs so some of the behavior is familiar to me.” You don’t particularly enjoy the comparison.

“It just does what it wants most of the time. Most of it is random I think.” Your tail doesn’t exactly wag when you’re happy. About half of the time it agrees with you. Right now it’s an annoyance.

“I should’ve been keeping track better.” Laios sounds sorely disappointed in himself. His hand ghosts over the fur and then goes in closer. The way he suddenly holds your hips startles you. A disgrungtled noise escapes your lips. The odd squeak makes your cheeks burn.

“Sorry.” He releases you quickly enough but you stay in place. “Am I making you uncomfortable? We can be done.”

“It’s fine.” You should crawl into a hole and die but you doubt you can move.

“Are you sure?” He lingers behind you, hand hovering an inch or two away.

You have to answer through gritted teeth. “Yes.” When his hand goes back to your hip you don’t know whether you should stiffen or relax.

Laios stands closer now. Your back occasionally brushes against his chest. The only bothersome part is that your tail is squished upwards. It’s not painful but it is highly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing now?”

“Just feeling, it’s good to do that sometimes.” His hands move with purpose. They trace up your hips and under your arms. It’s quiet except for his breathing that warms the back of your neck.

“The difference between fur and your actual hair is interesting.” Laios brushes against your scalp but doesn’t comb through it. You’re glad, his clumsy fingers would just tangle it. “The fur sheds right?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?!” He runs a thumb over your neck, where your fur starts to grow in.

“Just a little I guess. It’s bits and pieces until the summer when it gets worse.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Itchy… and I ruin all my clothes.”

“Are you- do you turn, naked? O-or does the fur grow in thinner?”

“Thinner fur most places, but on my chest and neck I loose it completely.” You hide from his gaze as it shifts down to the area. You want to scold him for staring but you find it more embarrassing than something you’re truly uncomfortable with.

Laios scratches absentmindedly along the slope of your shoulder. His eyes narrow with concentration until thin flecks of grey pull free. The man seems pleased with the strands of fur that he’s pulled out. His eyes flicker back to your chest.

“You can touch it.” You have no idea what propelled you to say that but the words have already left your mouth. Afterwards you can’t do much except bite your tongue.

There’s such excitement in Laios’s eyes. “Can I really?” His hands are already poised to grope you. It’s almost off-putting but you nod your head.

His hands cup your breasts gently. Surprisingly you don’t have to hold back any noises or shudders. The warmth of his skin is pleasant but your fur dampens any erotic sensations. Laios squeezes, glances at your face, then squeezes again slightly harder. You frown slightly, if anything the handling is a little uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t feel good?” The man sounds slightly surprised. Almost immediately his hands fall back to his sides.

“Um, it feels fine. You can keep going if you want.” Most of your shyness disappears with the lackluster touch.

He’s blushing now, a pretty addition of color. “I want to figure out what makes you feel good…”

You don’t know how to respond. Laios is nice to you. His hands are sometimes a little too rough, but they’re warm. “Like, sex?” You’re embarrassed again.

For the first time you’re the one to surprise Laios. His mouth opens and then clamps it shut. “If that’s something you’re- uh, interested in.”

You took a long minute to consider if this was what you wanted. Something you were “interested” in. Laios had… technically, imprisoned you, or at least his laws led to the guards imprisoning you. But he was also a handsome and honest. His face was stained red as you stared at him intensely.

“Ok.” It was unlikely an opportunity like this would arise again. Sex wasn’t at the top of your bucket list but you didn’t want to give up the chance to actually enjoy yourself.

Laios seemed surprised again by your response. He didn’t move any closer for another minute or two. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he stumbled in your direction. One large hand moved to your hip.

“I’m not actually an expert.” Laios coughed into his hand. “So let me know if… somethings wrong.” It was unclear what that implied but you nodded dutifully.

After a deep breath the man moved in to kiss you. You were surprised that he chose a more innocent and soft action to begin with. You expected your hands to go right to your ass. His lips were clumsy but your own were as unfamiliar with the movements of a kiss.

The blond wastes lots of time exploring your body. His hands run up and down your stomach. They dip down to your thighs but don’t quite reach your pussy.

You pull Laios back until you bump into the table, sitting down on it. Your hands remain wrapped in his shirt. You’re not sure where else to put them.

When the man pulls back you feel slightly shy again. His eyes go straight to your cunt now that there’s no reason to avoid the area. The first touches are hesitant. Once the man is more sure of himself his thumb runs over your labia and spreads the lips apart. Your hairless center is exposed to his eyes. The cool air makes your quivering muscles tighten and relax.

Laios notices your slight wetness. His lips twitch excitedly. The man’s actions get more bold. His finger dips into your warm cunt. It’s thick and even a single digit spreads your hole wide open.

Both of you look down breathless as his finger thrusts in and out gently. Your foreheads bump together which prompts your eyes meet briefly.

“Does it feel good?”

“U-um it’s fine I guess.” The finger itself isn’t uncomfortable, but Laios’s pink face and his breath against your cheeks is much nicer. A sudden urge to kiss him strikes you again but you hesitate. Though the man is exploring your naked body the idea of gentle touching feels much more intimate.

He moves forward to sink the entirety of his finger inside of you. It’s still an odd feeling of just the right amount but nowhere near enough. Though once the digit is planted firmly inside your core it wiggles around slightly to rub against your walls.

More wetness slips from your core. It sticks to Laios’s finger and dries sticky on your thighs. The slick is enough to smooth the way for a second finger. This stretches your walls slightly but other than a heavy breath you manage not to react.

Laios is focused. His other hand grips your hips tightly. You barely wiggle but each time you shift his hand twitches at your side. The man’s head is tilted so far down it almost collides with your chest. You don’t need to see his eyes to know exactly where they’re pointed.

Eventually his fingers pull free from your hole. You expect him to try for a third but there’s too long of a pause. His actions are somewhat obscured. Though his hand becomes visible once more as it raises to his lips.

“That’s- That’s-“ You don’t know what else to say as the man licks his fingers. He dips his tongue in between them to get every drop of your slick.

“It’s a strange taste.” He laughs and you’re horrified. “Salty…”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from scolding him. Instead you try to focus on the feelings more. Laios’s fingers go back in between your legs and thats much better.

There’s more exploration and it’s nice.

“Can I use my mouth?” The man sounds so excited. He smiles wide and continues to pet your walls gently.

You shake more. “Do… do people do that?” You know what sex is but some of the finer details escape your knowledge.

This time you finally manage to catch Laios off guard. His cheeks are a very pretty pink. “I’ve… read about it.” You’re not sure if you’re inclined to put your faith in his literary knowledge.

“If you bite me I’ll… rip your tongue off.” It’s a lame threat that rings hollow. Laios smiles weakly and kneels down. His hands pry your thighs even further apart so his head can sit between them.

“It’s warm,” he mumbles. You’re not expected to respond to it. Laios’s lips near your cunt and you resist the urge to shove him away or cry.

When they touch the outer lips of your labia you breathe out heavily. The feeling is almost ticklish as you tremble. Though as Laios pushes against you harder the arousal comes back. His lips are much softer than his fingers were. They’re soft and slow against the entrance of your core.

His tongue reveals itself and you bend over into his head. The feeling is wet and smooth as Laios sinks into your cunt further. He takes the map born from his fingers and retraces it with his lips. You weave your fingers into his hair and can’t decide where to guide him. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips without anything to stop their exit.

“W-wait I’ll-“ You’re familiar with the idea of an orgasm. Though the feeling pushing through your gut is frightening you know where it ends. It urges your thighs to squeeze Laios’s head and keep him in place. Your hips rock into the strokes of his tongue.

The man himself eagerly continues. He doesn’t mind how you try to suffocate him or the strange moans you let out.

Laios keeps his tongue inside of you even after your orgasm. His strokes are much softer now but you continue to twitch with overstimulation. You keep your hands in his hair to try and stable yourself.

The man laps at your cunt until he’s satisfied himself with the taste of it. He pulls away, cheeks and lips shiny and wet. His eyes are half-lidded and still focused on your core.

You slump backwards, breathless. Whining you push him backwards. He sits backwards on the floor and you’re slightly pleased to see his erection underneath his pants.

Laios scrambles upwards and hesitantly stands in front of you. He seems unsure of how to proceed.

“G-give me a second and then we can…” You’re unsure if he wants to fuck you properly or if his mouth was the end goal.

“Did it feel good?” The man looks slightly embarrassed but he seems pleased too.

“Yes.” You break eye-contact. There’s a very pretty pillar in the corner. The bottom of it twists into ornate curls.

Laios draws closer to tower over you once more. “I’m glad.” He pats your head gently and moves his hand to cradle your cheek.

You push past the gentle moment and move forward. Laios seems surprised when you move to tug at his waistband but he lets you drag it down. The shape of his cock is a little more clear through just his boxers. It’s plump and you don’t have anything to compare it to but the size is nice as well. The thought of putting it… well it’s not so large you’re frightened.

Before you reveal his cock to your eyes you glance upwards. “Take your shirt off.” It feels better if he strips off the rest of his clothes before revealing himself. You find a moment to breathe in the seconds it takes for the man to pull off the other layers he wears.

There is a good amount of muscle barely hidden under fine layers of fat. It is clear he is well fed. You find yourself jealous of his figure.

“Alright, underwear now.” If Laios will listen to your orders then you are content to watch. He slips his boots off and steps out of his pants. The man shows no shyness as he pulls his underwear off. You are the one who stares now.

Again you have never truly seen a cock. Glimpses of nude old men on the streets were not pleasurable nor sufficient. Laios is young and handsome which extends even between his legs.

“Can I touch?” You have the common sense to ask first though your hand is already moving forward.

With a nod you cradle his length in your palm. It’s warm and heavy, alive. You wrap your fingers around it, what you think is an acceptable tightness. Laios’s breath deepens and he leans towards you. His chest is warm against your shoulder. Each sigh echoes against your head.

Mostly you just feel his cock. You don’t have much intent on getting him off like this. Watching him twitch and shudder is entertaining enough. You spread your legs further apart and urge him forward.

Laios breathes heavily against your shoulder. “Sorry I might be bad… I’ve never done this part before.” You have to stifle a laugh and pull him closer still.

“Go slow.” You let the man position you, pushing and shifting until you’re a perfect display. You try your best to stay still but your legs shake slightly.

His cock is much scarier when it’s positioned right at your entrance. Though Laios is still slightly clumsy, gripping your arm much too tight, he takes his time moving. The head of his dick is suddenly right at your entrance. Both of you are once again staring right at your cunt. Your view is slightly worse but that makes the feeling even more intense.

The stretch isn’t as bad as you expect. There’s a soft pain but with gritted teeth you ignore it. Laios does his best to get you used to the stimulation, rocking slowly. He only plants himself a few inches in for now.

Though it’s clear the man has to restrain himself. He breathes very heavily. His grip on you was impossibly tight before but now you’re sure bruises will bloom tomorrow. You’re forced still to let Laios take control.

He finally plants himself inside of you fully and nearly crashes into your arms. You guide his hands around your waist and wrap your own around his neck. For a moment there’s reprieve. Laios shifts slightly but doesn’t attempt any big movements. A minute or two passes where you both simply breathe.

Very slowly he tries a thrust, pulling out only an inch or two before sinking back in. You let out a pathetic whine and bury your face into his shoulder. He repeats the movements a few times, pushing another small whine from your throat.

You don’t do much except hold onto Laios’s shoulders as he builds up a momentum. It is very gradual but you find yourself still startled each time there is an imperceptible shift in speed. The pace grows until a horrible squelch sounds from your bodies pressing together and pulling apart. Sweat makes your skin shiny and sticks weird to your fur.

Laios doesn’t struggle with the fast movements. His muscles are much more obvious in action. You did not care much for a sturdy man when they only used their strength to subdue you. As a support however you are happy to have him to lean on. There isn’t much else to ground you.

You let out an embarrassing chain of whimpers and more dog-like noises. Laios’s hand cradles your throat ever so gently. “I- hah, I still wonder what your v-vocal cords are like.” The casual statement coupled with his breathless voice and cock buried deep inside you is a horrible combination. You feel horrified as your cunt squeezes tighter. Laios shouldn’t be charming but you don’t hate his stupid… everything. You certainly don’t hate anything about him right now.

Once you catch your breath you force the man to kiss you again. His big mouth is much more bearable when it’s occupied. If he wasn’t fucking you right now you’d force him to use it once more.

His hand is off your neck but it hasn’t stopped traveling. It stops over your uterus. Very faintly he can feel how his dick shapes your insides. Though his true goal lies slightly lower. It does not take long for Laios to find your clit and promptly attack it.

At first his actions are slightly too aggressive but after a moment or two he finds a gentler movement.

All your focus falls to your cunt. Despite both of you being beginners to this activity Laios shows great talent. Once his fingers attached themselves to you the end was near.

You’re not sure if it’s good to try and warn the man once more of your climax. Your tongue is thick and slow. Instead all you can do is offer another kiss and fall into the feeling of pleasure.

Laios only overstimulates you for a thrust or two. He pulls out of you slowly, and takes his cock in his own hand. Within a few jerks of his wrist the man releases onto your thigh. You are too tired to complain, instead content to rest your head on his shoulder. Your companion does the same. He leans against the desk and falls into your form.

For a moment you share heavy breaths and slow caresses. Finally Laios clears his throat. “There’s probably a rag here somewhere.” He goes to full away but you let your claws prick his flesh.

“Stay.” It’s pleasing to have a king listen to your commands. He now shifts to come closer, lingering between your legs. You pull your head back, only enough to see his face. It’s pink and shiny with sweat but still rather attractive. Peeking downwards you mean to study his physique. Instead you notice the fur you’ve shed. Quickly enough you look back upwards to avoid any more embarrassment.

You’re entirely unsure of what to do now. The sex was good… but you had no idea if this was just another version of his odd questions. For a moment you feared he might still wish to cast you out.

Laios squeezed your hips gently. The movement was likely meant to be loving but it startled you upwards. Your forehead smacked against his chin and both of you let out a groan of pain.

You didn’t know whether to whine or laugh. Instead a weird combination of the two popped out of your mouth. It prompted a small smile from Laois, whose cheeks grew even redder.

The small exchange smoothed out the awkward air. You pulled away from Laios fully and ignored the cold air against your stomach and chest.

“You can stay, as long as you’d like by the way.” He leans in more.

“Ah, so was this all a trick to keep me here.” You’ve never been one to make jokes but you manage a cheeky smile.

“I-it wasn’t! You can go if you want.” He moves to back up but you’re quick to snatch his wrist.

“I’ll stay.”